x
In the depths of Dome Sublevel 27, darkness loomed heavily, an almost palpable force that pressed against Steed and Tara as they navigated the oppressive silence. Steed kept a close watch behind Tara, his senses tingling with a mix of anxiety and alertness. Each echoing footstep seemed amplified in the stillness, and he felt the weight of the shadows closing in around them.
Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as a scratchy, filtered voice reverberated through the cavernous space, its tone cold and commanding. “Iceman, put your hands on your head.”
Without hesitation, Steed complied, his heart pounding in his chest. He clasped his fingers together, palms facing upward, the gesture a show of submission against the unseen threat. The voice continued, its authority unwavering.
“Now turn your hands over. In a moment, a light will shine in your eyes. Walk into it—Tara first, then you, Iceman. You will have to stoop, but don’t unclasp your hands. Do you agree?”
Steed nodded, his face stoic despite the rising tension. Tara turned slightly to glance back at him, her eyes wide and searching, but the dim light cast deep shadows that obscured their features. The atmosphere crackled with uncertainty, a feeling that the very walls were listening.
Then, without warning, a blindingly bright rectangle of light cut through the darkness, illuminating their figures with an intensity that made them squint. The harsh brightness felt almost alive, its glow sharp against the gloom. Tara stepped forward instinctively, compelled by the light that beckoned her like a moth to a flame.
“Stay close,” Steed whispered, his voice barely audible over the sudden rush of adrenaline in his ears.
Even Tara had to bend low to avoid being scorched by the brilliance as she moved into the beam. Steed followed closely behind, every instinct screaming for caution as he navigated the constricted space. He felt the oppressive weight of the air, thick with tension, as he stooped to enter the narrowing beam of light.
Just as he finally crossed the threshold, the light extinguished abruptly, plunging them back into the enveloping darkness of the sublevel. The silence rushed back in, heavier than before, wrapping around them like a shroud. The abrupt transition left a ringing in his ears, and Steed could feel the chilling weight of uncertainty settle in the pit of his stomach. The shadows closed in again, and they were left to wonder what awaited them in this enigmatic and foreboding space.
As Steed and Tara navigated the dim, oppressive corridors of Dome Sublevel 27, the air grew thicker, heavy with the scent of damp concrete and rusting metal. Suddenly, a voice erupted from the shadows, cold and commanding, slicing through the silence like a blade.
"Iceman, put your hands on your heads."
Steed tensed at the command, instincts flaring. The darkness around them seemed to pulse with menace, and as the voice instructed him to clasp his fingers together, the reality of their situation sank in. With a subtle nod, he complied, the motion filled with resolve. Tara, standing close beside him, cast a fleeting glance back, her face momentarily illuminated by the faint light from the corridor behind them. In that brief moment, he could see the fear flickering in her eyes, a stark contrast to the steely determination that had fueled their escape thus far.
Suddenly, a blindingly bright, narrow rectangle of light burst into existence before them, illuminating the space with an intensity that felt almost tangible. It was as if they had walked into the gaze of a cosmic spotlight. Tara moved forward instinctively, drawn into the brightness, but Steed hesitated for only a heartbeat before following closely behind.
Even in the harsh glare, they could see the outline of the Underground's operatives standing menacingly before them, weapons raised. Steed’s heart raced as he recognized the deadly neutron spears they wielded—sleek, elongated instruments that hummed softly with stored energy. The spears were crafted from a shimmering metal that reflected the light in a blinding dance, their tips glistening with an otherworldly sheen, as if hungry for action. Each spear was designed for maximum lethality, capable of delivering a devastating blast of energy that could incapacitate a target in an instant.
As they stepped through the light, a wave of vulnerability washed over Steed; he felt exposed, trapped in the merciless glare. Just as he moved to shield Tara, the light abruptly extinguished, plunging them back into darkness. But it was too late—their movements had already been noted.
In an instant, the blinding spotlight snapped back on, illuminating them both in stark clarity. Steed quickly pulled Tara to his side, attempting to shield her from the danger. Yet, in that very moment, they were surrounded by the sharp, threatening points of the neutron spears, their glass-silver tips glinting ominously, mere inches from their skin. The coldness of the metal was a stark reminder of the peril they faced.
Steed felt the weight of the situation press down on him. With the neutron spears positioned so close, drawing his weapon would be futile; the operatives were too alert, too poised to act. A tense silence enveloped them, broken only by the faint, mechanical hum of the spears, which seemed to amplify the threat they posed.
A tense silence enveloped them, punctuated only by the soft hum of the spears, amplifying the danger of their situation. With no way to fight back, Steed could feel the weight of impending doom settle heavily over them, the realization that they were trapped in a precarious standoff, their fates dangling in the balance.
"Hold still, Iceman, or die where you stand." The voice came from the shadows, cold and merciless.
Steed stood frozen, his muscles tense beneath his uniform. Beside him, Tara stood just as rigid, her breath quick and shallow, eyes wide with fear. The spear points pressed closer, glass-silver and gleaming in the dimness, humming faintly with energy. These weren't ordinary spears; they were neutron spears, deadly and unforgiving, capable of disintegrating a body with a single strike.
"Is she the one?" a second voice hissed from the darkness, laced with suspicion.
Other voices joined in, angry whispers echoing through the unseen chamber. "She betrayed us! Kill him! Kill them both! Tara, you sold us out! Iceman butcher! Iceman murderer!"
The accusations hung heavy in the air, pressing down on Steed and Tara like a physical weight. They stood immobilized, only their heads turning slightly as the voices hissed around them, filled with venom and distrust. The light flickered out suddenly, plunging them into pitch-black darkness, but the danger was still all too real.
Steed could feel the heat radiating from the spear points, still hovering perilously close to his skin. The tips glowed faintly, giving off an eerie, soft light in the dark, their shafts disappearing into the shadows beyond. When the point of one touched his side, it made a soft hissing sound, causing him to flinch involuntarily from the brief, stinging burn. Tara whimpered softly beside him, her body trembling.
"I'm not here to kill you," Steed said, his voice steady despite the tension in his body. "I'm a Runaway. She brought me here because I begged her to help me."
In the faint glow, Steed raised his hand, palm up. His crystal, embedded deep in his skin, blinked red in the gloom—a sign that he had reached the age where running was his only escape.
A murmur rippled through the darkened chamber, angry and skeptical.
"He's lying," a voice spat. "No Iceman ever runs."
"You don't run," another voice added. "You hunt. You kill Runaways. You've killed them all your life."
Steed's jaw tightened. "Yes, I have," he admitted, the weight of his past settling heavily on his words. "But now it's my turn. And I want to live."
For a moment, silence fell, punctuated only by the soft hum of the neutron spears and the restless shuffling of feet. Then, an angry swell of voices rose again, the cacophony growing louder.
"Kill him now!" someone shouted from the depths of the chamber.
Tara, her voice quavering but filled with defiance, shouted back. "What's the matter with you all? He's blinking! He’s a Runaway! We have to help anyone who asks for it! That’s what we stand for! If we don't, we’re no better than they are—deciding who lives and dies!"
The chamber fell into an uneasy silence. One of the spears lifted and grazed Tara's cheek, its silver tip glowing faintly as it burned her flesh with a quick, fierce hiss. She gasped in pain, a tiny sound that was quickly stifled, her hand instinctively flying to her face.
Steed's temper flared. He spun against the spear points, trying to shield her with his body, but every movement brought fresh stabs of pain as the weapons jabbed and pierced him in a dozen places. Despite his fury, the effort was futile. The spears pressed in too tightly. He gritted his teeth, feeling the heat of the burns but unwilling to let go of Tara.
The voices swelled again, furious and full of bloodlust. "Kill him now!"
Suddenly, a piercing alarm rang out, slicing through the tension like a blade. The angry shouts fell away instantly, replaced by the clatter of hurried footsteps from beyond the chamber. Steed and Tara stood motionless, the spotlight flaring back on, bathing them once again in its harsh glare.
A figure stumbled into the light, her hair disheveled, her hands raised to shield her eyes.
It was Cathy.
"Cathy! Cathy, Fresh Face 594..." she stammered, barely able to catch her breath. "He's dead. The Med's dead, and the Icemen came…"
A voice, gentler now, spoke from the shadows. "Cathy... Cathy, remember the code."
The tension in the chamber shifted, the focus moving away from Steed and Tara. In that moment of distraction, they both exchanged a glance, realizing that their lives might depend on what happened next.
Cathy stumbled into the spotlight, her face pale and wild with panic. “They smashed everything, and I barely got away!” Her voice burst forth, raw with hysteria, echoing off the cold, metal walls of the chamber.
She lowered her trembling hands, revealing her disheveled appearance. The light illuminated her figure, showcasing the tattered remnants of her clothing—frayed edges and dirt-smeared fabric that spoke of her desperate escape. The bright smile she had worn was now a strange mask, barely concealing the turmoil beneath. Her gaze darted to the side, and she spotted Steed and Tara, pinned helplessly against the wall by the gleaming neutron spears, the cold metal reflecting the harsh light.
Cathy's eyes widened in fear at the sight of them, and she instinctively took a step back, panic flooding her senses. “No! Not you! You can’t be caught, too!” Her heart raced as the chaos around them seemed to close in.
Desperate to convey urgency, she grasped for the words that could save them. “The code,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rising tension. “It’s A.B.C. 9-2-7. Remember it. It’s our lifeline.”
She locked eyes with Steed, willing him to understand the gravity behind her words. “A is for Alpha, B for Bravo, C for Charlie. Nine is the number of the moon, two is the day we met, and seven is the hour when all secrets shall be revealed. If you ever need to find me, you must say it in the right order. It will guide you to safety.”
In that moment, the weight of her plea hung heavily in the air, a fragile thread connecting them amidst the impending danger. Steed caught a flicker of recognition in Cathy’s eyes, understanding the stakes that lay before them. Before he could respond, however, the atmosphere thickened with tension, the murmurs of the hidden crowd rising again, hungry for blood, each voice echoing with accusations and threats that filled the room like a looming storm. The sense of urgency pressed down on them, a stark reminder that survival was a fragile thing, and the path to safety was shrouded in darkness, fraught with peril at every turn.
Cathy recoiled, her breath hitching in her throat as the recognition at last washed over her. “It's him! The first Iceman. He killed... the Med.” Her voice trembled, each word laden with fear and disbelief, as if uttering his name summoned the shadows of her past.
Tara stepped forward, urgency lacing her tone, desperation clinging to her every word. “No, Cathy—wait! He’s running. Tell them the rest!”
But Cathy’s expression shifted from terror to exhaustion, a weight of memories crashing down upon her. “He’s the one. You too. I remember.” The words spilled forth, quaking as they left her lips. “He was in a hurry. Just a face job. Dark hair, I said. Then he killed the Med, and you grabbed me—and the machine blew up, and I ran... I ran.” Her voice faltered, the echoes of her escape haunting her.
“Cathy, please...” Tara implored, grasping her arm tightly, the warmth of her touch a reminder of safety. “The other Iceman. Remember the one who came after—”
Suddenly, clarity flickered in Cathy’s eyes, sharp as glass. “That’s right. The other one came after. A woman. Smashing, killing, burning!” Her words sliced through the tension, charged with the urgency of her recollections.
“...And she was hunting the first one, this one. Wasn’t she? Wasn’t she? This one was running, the other one was hunting him...” Tara’s voice was urgent, guiding Cathy to remember.
Cathy’s eyes widened, the horror of her memories coalescing into a chilling truth. “Yes. Oh yes.” She turned to Steed, her voice shaking with conviction. “She was after you. I remember. You’re running!”
As the words left her mouth, relief washed over Steed and Tara like a tidal wave. The spear points, once poised to strike, retreated into the shadows, but their hearts raced, every instinct screaming danger.
“May we move?” Steed asked, the urgency of their situation weighing heavily on him. He glanced at the now-diminished threat, aware that the moment of reprieve could shatter at any second.
A tense silence fell over the chamber before a voice cut through the darkness, steady and commanding. “I say we pass them through. Somebody help Cathy.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathered crowd, voices low yet fervent. Cathy, shaken but determined, moved into the shadows, her hands reaching out for support as she faded from sight, swallowed by the darkness.
“Just go straight ahead,” the voice instructed, its tone both firm and cautious. “Follow the corridors with the pipes overhead to the end. Then use the key.”
As the spotlight finally extinguished, dim light flickered around the perimeter, revealing that they stood in a vast underground chamber—part of the immense undercellars of The Dome. The glow illuminated perhaps twenty figures, cloaked in shadow, their faces indistinct yet filled with an intensity that sent shivers down Steed’s spine. An aisle opened down the center of the room, clearly marking their path, but the way ahead felt fraught with uncertainty.
Steed and Tara exchanged a glance, their determination solidifying in the face of the unknown. But just as they prepared to move, Steed paused, a thought lingering in his mind, an urgency to acknowledge the unseen allies who had risked so much. “I don’t know who you are. I’d like to thank someone,” he called into the dark.
“It doesn’t matter who we are,” the voice replied, the echo reverberating off the cold, damp walls, a reminder of their shared plight. “Follow the tunnel to the end.”
Steed pressed on, resolve etched into his features, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. “Will there be someone to tell us where to go from there...?”
A murmur of anxious discussion rippled through the dimly lit chamber, voices blending into a cacophony of fear and uncertainty. One voice rose above the tumult, steady yet laced with tension. “Someone will follow. When you come to the lock, he will tell you how to go on the other side. Tara may go with you as far as the lock.”
Steed inhaled sharply, a cold knot of dread forming in his stomach as he prepared for what lay ahead. “No. Tara goes back now. Take her back.” His tone shifted, urgency threading through every word as he turned to her, his eyes blazing with resolve. “Now! Go on back. Back outside, Tara.”
Tara’s expression morphed from confusion to alarm, her brow furrowing at the sudden intensity in his voice. “Why? No...no...I’m going with you.”
“Only to the lock,” the voice interrupted, firm and unyielding. “After that, there’s no way back.”
“I don’t care. I’m going to Sanctuary. With you.” Tara’s voice trembled with determination, but beneath it lay a flicker of vulnerability as she searched Steed’s face for reassurance.
The room erupted into a wave of dissent—“Impossible!” “You can’t!”—but Tara remained steadfast, her gaze fixed on Steed, pleading. “Will you take me with you?”
“Why, Tara? You’re still a green,” he replied, a mix of concern and admiration threading through his voice.
She shook her head, her determination unwavering despite the fear clawing at her insides. In that moment, Steed felt a swell of admiration for her bravery, but the urgency of their situation bore down on him.
“Come on then—they’ll be here any minute!” he urged, pulling her along, their escape dependent on swift action.
Tara’s heart raced in tandem with Steed’s as they sprinted together, the cold concrete beneath their feet echoing their frantic urgency. But their efforts came too late. An explosive roar shattered the moment, the walls of the chamber buckling as debris rained down. In an instant, a group of Icemen surged through the breach, led by Francis, their guns glinting ominously in the dim light.
Panic erupted like a storm, chaos swirling around them as screams pierced the air, echoing in a frenzy of terror. The alarm blared, a relentless wail that mingled with the shouts of the Icemen as they advanced with lethal intent, firing indiscriminately into the fray.
Steed reacted on instinct, yanking Tara down beside him, their bodies colliding against the cold, unforgiving ground as gunfire erupted around them. Dust swirled in the air, choking and thick, the acrid scent of fear mingling with smoke and despair. They huddled together, hearts pounding as they witnessed the brutality unfolding before their eyes.
In that chaos, a shadow fell over them, the unmistakable figure of an Iceman looming, gun drawn and ready. Steed’s heart raced, adrenaline surging through his veins as time slowed to a crawl. The Iceman’s gaze locked onto his, an uncertain flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes.
In a heartbeat, Steed understood what was at stake. With a roar of defiance, he drew his weapon, the cold metal vibrating against his palm. He aimed with fierce determination, his heart pounding in synchrony with the chaos surrounding them. “This ends now,” he thought, and in a flash of clarity, he pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, a sharp crack slicing through the clamor, and the Iceman was struck, a scream tearing from his lips as he was engulfed in flames. The fiery explosion illuminated the chamber for a brief, horrifying moment, casting shadows of terror across the faces of the remaining Icemen.
As the Iceman fell, the chaotic scene spiraled into a new level of madness. Panic spread like wildfire as bodies hit the ground, the line between ally and enemy blurring in the smoke-filled chamber. Steed and Tara remained crouched, hearts racing, adrenaline coursing through their veins, knowing that survival was a flickering hope amid the darkness.
Suddenly aware of the gravity of his actions, Steed felt a cold rush of horror wash over him as the reality of killing an Iceman sank in. Panic gripped him as he realized what he had just done. Before he could fully comprehend the implications, Tara instinctively pulled him down into the shadows, pressing her body against the damp, cold ground. They remained oblivious to the soft pulsing of his crystal, its red light flickering faintly, a silent alarm in the oppressive darkness.
Emma, meanwhile, prowled the room like a predator, her instincts honed and searching for any sign of her old comrade. Her heart raced as she caught sight of the eerie glow in the distance. A flicker of red amidst the inky blackness drew her in, filling her with both hope and dread.
“Steed... I know you’re in here,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of frustration and desperation. “What have you done? Gone mad over a Runner? What the hell are you made of?” The cavern seemed to constrict around her, amplifying her words as they reverberated off the damp stone walls, each syllable a stark reminder of the peril they faced.
Emma swallowed hard, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. “No one knows except me. You know I won’t say anything.” Her voice softened, taking on a pleading tone as she pressed on, “I should’ve turned you in, but I couldn’t. Leave her. Come out with me now. We can fix this. It'll look like you were part of the group that hit this place.”
Her words hung heavy in the damp air, a lifeline thrown into the churning waters of chaos surrounding them. “Steed... you’re one of us! An Iceman!” The urgency in her voice cracked, revealing the turmoil swirling within her heart. “Come on, Steed... now... before it’s too late.”
Just as the tension in the air reached a breaking point, a sudden flash of light exploded into the chamber, followed by a deafening shot that shattered the fragile calm. The world erupted in chaos as a massive chunk of the ceiling collapsed, sending debris raining down and cutting off her view of Steed. The blast reverberated through the cavern, dust and rubble swirling, creating a disorienting haze that engulfed her senses.
Emma staggered, her heart pounding in her chest as she fought to regain her balance amidst the cacophony of falling stones and the acrid smell of dust in the air. The distant sounds of explosions and bloodcurdling screams pierced the chaos, filling her with an overwhelming sense of dread. She felt her breath quicken, each inhalation a reminder of the peril they faced.
As the dust settled and panic surged around her, Emma's mind raced, torn between her fear for Steed and her desire to protect him. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, a fragile thread connecting them that could snap at any instant. Desperation clawed at her throat, her heart aching as she shouted into the dust, “Steed! Please, come back! We can still find a way out!”
Her voice echoed, swallowed by the chaos, but she refused to relent. She pushed forward into the swirling dust, desperate to find him, to reach the one person who could still change everything. In that moment, all her fears and frustrations coalesced into a single thought: if they were to survive, they had to face this nightmare together.
As Steed pulled Tara shakily to her feet, the adrenaline coursing through their veins was palpable, mingling with the damp air that surrounded them like a heavy fog. Tara’s eyes flickered with a mix of fear and determination as she nodded, the brief moment of connection between them igniting a flicker of hope. With a firm grip on her arm, he led her down the dimly lit tunnel, the chill of the air wrapping around them like a shroud, heightening their sense of urgency.
The tunnel twisted and turned, its walls slick with moisture, always leading them deeper into the bowels of the earth. Each step echoed ominously, a reminder of the dangers lurking just out of sight. Shadows danced along the walls, and the oppressive darkness seemed to whisper threats, taunting their resolve as they pressed on.
Finally, they emerged into a wider chamber, revealing a colossal metal door that loomed before them like a sentinel guarding the last sanctuary. The heavy tracks they had been following led directly to this formidable barrier, and beneath it, a murky pool of water reflected the dim light filtering in from above, its surface still and foreboding.
Steed’s heart raced as he approached the door, his hands trembling with urgency. He grasped the wheel and gave it a firm tug, but it resisted stubbornly, refusing to budge. Panic threatened to seep into his resolve, and he could feel the weight of time pressing down on them.
Just then, a whirring sound filled the air, slicing through the tension. A metallic bell chimed, resonating ominously in the stillness. A recorded voice crackled to life, commanding their attention. “Runner, this is the last gate. Use your key now. When the bell sounds again… use your key. Good luck, Runner. May you find Sanctuary.”
Silence engulfed them as the voice faded, leaving only the echo of its words. Then the bell chimed again, illuminating the center of the wheel with a soft glow. A keyhole shimmered invitingly, its light casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls. The whirring continued for a brief moment before it abruptly ceased, plunging them into darkness once more.
Startled by a noise behind them, Steed and Tara exchanged worried glances. In the slick, glistening tunnel, a distant light bobbed rhythmically, accompanied by the rapid sound of footsteps drawing closer. The threat was real, and they could feel the tension thickening the air around them.
Tara's breath came in quick gasps as she fumbled with the chain around her neck, urgency twisting her features. “Every key only works once… and only a Lastday key must open this door,” she panted, her hands trembling as she tried to fit the ankh into the glowing keyhole. “They said it would fit—but…”
In her frantic state, the ankh slipped from her fingers, plunging into the dark pool of water with a splash that echoed like a death knell. They both dropped to their knees, desperately sifting through the murky depths, their fingers brushing against the cold, wet surface as they searched.
“Wait—I've got the one I took from the runaway!” Steed exclaimed, a flicker of hope igniting within him as he recalled the vital piece he had pocketed earlier. He rummaged through his pockets, the tension mounting with every passing second, the whirring sound beginning to fade again, the light in the keyhole dimming ominously.
Just as the whirring ceased completely, plunging them back into darkness, another tremendous explosion echoed through the chamber, shaking the very ground beneath them. Tara’s gaze shot to the shadows, and she could see a figure looming larger in the distance, its outline growing more defined as the dim light revealed its form.
As the recorded voice chimed once more, urging them to use the key, Steed grasped the runway's ankh tightly in his hand. He pushed it into the illuminated center of the wheel, feeling it meld into place. The light brightened, casting a golden radiance throughout the chamber as the massive door began to open with a heavy, grating sound.
For a brief moment, he hesitated, the gravity of what he had done weighing heavily on him. Tara’s voice broke through his thoughts, filled with fear and resolve. “There’s no turning back, is there?”
With a heavy heart, Steed turned toward her and gently pushed her through the opening, the light of hope guiding her way. He followed closely behind, the door closing slowly behind them, sealing them within the unknown depths of the runway, their fates intertwined in that moment of peril. The sounds of chaos and destruction echoed behind them, but together, they stepped into the future, uncertain yet united.
Steed shoved Tara through the door, the metallic clang echoing behind them as it slammed shut. The sound reverberated through the damp, hollow space, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. For a moment, they stood there, their breathing labored, staring into the murky darkness that lay ahead.
On the other side, they found themselves in the remnants of a once-massive undersea complex. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater, rust, and decay. As their eyes adjusted, they could make out the endless maze of breeding pens and tanks, towering around them like forgotten monuments to a world long past. It was an aquarium turned graveyard. The machinery that had once worked tirelessly to raise and harvest food now lay dormant, rotted by time and neglect. Thick layers of algae and barnacles encrusted every surface, while the remains of nets and harvesting gear hung limp in the stagnant water below.
Above, unseen, water dripped steadily, echoing through the cavernous ruins. Catwalks stretched out like broken limbs, intersecting the giant tanks filled with murky water where schools of fish still swam, oblivious to the desolation around them. The walkways were slick and treacherous, some already submerged beneath the rising water. A fall here would mean being swallowed by the oily depths below, with no hope of resurfacing.
Steed glanced around, his breath steadying as he took in the layout. "We have to keep moving," he muttered, his voice low but firm. Tara nodded, fear flickering in her eyes, but she trusted him. She always had.
Behind them, far off in the tunnel, Emma arrived at the sealed door. Her footsteps slowed as her light scanned the ground. There, glinting in the thin beam, was Tara’s ankh—the one she had dropped in their haste. Emma knelt, picking it up with trembling fingers. Her eyes narrowed as she turned it over in her hand, then raised her gaze to the glowing ankh still embedded in the door. She clenched her jaw, the weight of betrayal heavy on her chest.
Meanwhile, Steed and Tara pressed forward, navigating the narrow, slimy catwalks with caution. Every step was a test of balance, the rusted railings groaning under their weight. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sloshing of water and the occasional creak of ancient metal. The darkness seemed to close in around them, as though the complex itself was trying to swallow them whole.
"Do you think this is the right way?" Tara’s voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes darting nervously around the massive tanks. The shadowy forms of fish moved just beneath the surface, adding to the unease that prickled at her skin.
"It’s the only way," Steed replied, his tone more certain than he felt. He led the way, his eyes scanning for any sign of a clear path, but everything seemed to twist and turn, leading them in circles. They waded through water where the catwalks had long since sunk, the cold seeping through their boots and into their bones.
They reached a junction where two ramps diverged, both disappearing into shadow. Steed hesitated, his hand tightening on the rail. "This way," he decided, taking the left ramp, but after only a few paces, the walkway crumbled into the water. They were forced to retrace their steps, frustration gnawing at them both.
"How did people ever live like this?" Tara asked, her voice trembling with exhaustion and fear. "Breeding animals, raising fish in these... tanks. To eat them."
Steed frowned, the concept unsettling him as much as it did her. "It was a different time. A different world. People did what they had to survive."
"But killing things—living things—just for food?" Tara shuddered, glancing at the slimy water beneath them. "It’s barbaric."
Steed didn’t answer. The idea made him uncomfortable, too. He could barely imagine a world where such brutality was necessary.
They pressed on, the path winding through corridors of rusted machinery. At one point, Steed paused, giving an old wheel a half-turn. For a moment, there was a groan, and then great rusty net-combs started winnowing through the water, stirring the muck and debris. Tara watched in horror as the ancient gears creaked and churned, imagining the countless creatures that had once been scooped up by this cold, mechanical hand.
The ground became more treacherous. Steed slipped, his foot catching on a slick patch of algae. He tumbled into the water with a heavy splash, disappearing beneath the dark surface. Tara gasped, fear clutching her chest as she dropped to her knees, frantically searching the murky water for him.
Seconds passed like hours until finally, his hand broke through the surface. He hauled himself up, shivering and drenched, his face pale but determined. Tara let out a shaky breath of relief, grabbing his arm to steady him as he climbed back onto the catwalk.
They continued, each step more desperate than the last. Ancient signs hung crookedly from the walls—"PROTOPLANK," "DEPOT NO. #11," "DO NOT DECANT"—remnants of a forgotten age that offered little comfort. The complex felt like a labyrinth designed to trap them, and the deeper they went, the more they felt the weight of it bearing down.
Finally, they paused, exhausted, in front of what looked like the wreckage of an old inspection vessel. Its broken frame was half-submerged in one of the larger tanks, the once-sturdy metal now crumbling and covered in rust.
But then, footsteps echoed through the chamber—a steady, deliberate pace. Steed stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward the source of the noise. Tara’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with fear as the shadowy figure approached, growing larger with each step.
"We’re not alone," Steed whispered, his hand instinctively reaching for the weapon at his side. Tara clutched his arm, her fear palpable, but they both knew there was no turning back now.
The figure drew closer, its outline sharpening in the dim light, and Steed’s heart sank as recognition dawned.
Steed’s pulse hammered in his ears as he heard the unmistakable rhythm of footsteps echoing through the submerged corridors. The soft sloshing of water accompanied each step, deliberate and measured, like the hunter closing in on its prey. Tara’s eyes flickered with fear, her grip tightening around his arm. The darkness around them seemed alive, thick with tension.
"What is it?" she whispered, barely audible above the steady drip of water from the ceiling. Her breath came in shallow gasps, eyes darting around as if the shadows themselves would rise and strike.
"Stay here," Steed said firmly, his voice rough but steady. "I need to see what’s coming." He slipped away into the darkness without waiting for a reply, his figure swallowed by the maze of decaying walkways and rusted machinery. Tara watched his silhouette disappear, her heart pounding in her throat.
A few moments later, he returned, his face pale and grim. He didn’t need to speak; she could see the answer in his eyes.
"It’s Emma, isn’t it?" Tara’s voice trembled as she asked the question she dreaded.
Steed nodded, his jaw clenched. "She’s closer than I thought. We need to keep moving, now."
Without another word, they hurried through the labyrinth of decaying catwalks, slippery with algae and rust. Their steps echoed in the empty, eerie expanse, occasionally splashing through pools of stagnant water. The oppressive silence was punctuated only by the distant hum of forgotten machinery and the occasional creak of metal under their weight.
But as they wound deeper into the ruins, Steed made a wrong turn. They hit a dead end, faced with a rusted gate partially submerged in filthy water. Frustration surged through him as they turned back, their path retraced in desperate haste. Behind them, Emma was getting closer—her distorted shadow looming through the hazy glass of the aquarium-like tanks. One moment, her figure seemed enormous, towering, and all-consuming; the next, it shrank into a distant, haunting flicker of light.
Then, suddenly, she was there. Emerging from the shadows like a ghost, her gun drawn, her stance rigid. The cold gleam of her eyes shone in the dim light, her gaze locked on Steed and Tara.
"Steed!" Emma’s voice was sharp, echoing unnaturally through the watery chamber. It ricocheted off the metal walls, distorted and menacing. "You can’t escape this. It’s over."
Panic flared in Steed’s chest. He glanced around wildly, his fingers scrabbling against the rusted machinery that lined the walls. His hands found a lever, and with a desperate yank, he pulled it down. Somewhere deep in the belly of the structure, an ancient generator groaned to life. Rusted gears turned reluctantly, and the decrepit machinery roared with a hollow, echoing sound that reverberated through the complex.
"Come on!" he urged Tara, pulling her by the arm as the machinery clanked and shuddered around them. They sprinted forward, the uneven ground slick beneath their feet. But Emma was closing in, her torchlight bouncing off the dripping walls as she followed them, relentlessly.
Ahead, Steed spotted salvation—the outline of a massive waterlock door with a rusted wheel in its center. It was their only chance.
"Help me!" he shouted, throwing his weight against the wheel. The metal groaned but held firm, rust and years of neglect fighting back. Tara rushed to his side, her hands gripping the cold metal as they pushed together. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, the wheel began to turn. But just as the door began to give way, the beam of Emma’s torchlight fell on them.
They froze.
Emma was only a few feet away now, her gun raised. Her eyes locked onto Tara, and the briefest flicker of emotion crossed her face—then it hardened into cold resolve. Her finger tightened on the trigger.
There was a deafening crack as Emma fired. The shot echoed through the chamber, the sound bouncing off the walls like the blast of a cannon. The bullet struck one of the enormous aquarium tanks behind them. The ancient glass buckled under the impact, cracking and then shattering in a torrent of water. The flood hit them with the force of a tidal wave. Steed was thrown forward, the cold water dragging him down. For a moment, everything was chaos—dark water, the sound of rushing liquid, and the icy grip of panic as he searched for Tara in the deluge.
He found her, half-submerged, gasping for breath. With a monumental effort, Steed yanked the door open just enough to shove her through. Water surged around them, threatening to pull them both under, but Steed managed to pull himself through the narrow gap and slam the door shut behind them.
They collapsed in a heap inside an old, rusted freight shaft. The door was sealed with a loud clang, and the entire structure groaned as the ancient elevator jolted to life. The platform shuddered as it rose, creaking and groaning like a dying beast. Steed slumped against the wall, panting. Tara lay beside him, shivering uncontrollably, her clothes soaked and clinging to her skin.
The shaft climbed at an alarming speed, the walls outside flickering with light and shadow. Dark, light, dark, light—until finally, everything turned white. The elevator stopped abruptly with a jolt that sent Steed and Tara sprawling onto the cold metal floor.
When the door opened, a biting chill swept into the shaft, the air heavy with the scent of frost and ice. The world beyond the door was bathed in a faint, bluish glow. It was so cold that their breath came out in thick, white puffs.
Steed stirred first, his muscles aching from the cold and the strain of their escape. He reached for Tara, his fingers brushing hers. She shivered, but her eyes fluttered open. Slowly, painfully, they both rose to their feet. The bluish light ahead beckoned, cold and mysterious.
"I’m scared," Tara whispered, her voice a fragile thing in the silence.
Steed tightened his arm around her, pulling her close. "It’s brighter that way," he said, his voice low and steady. "Besides, we can’t go back now."
Tara hesitated, her eyes scanning the dark, unfamiliar space ahead. "Wait," she said, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Steed stopped, turning to face her, concern etched into his features.
"I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, Steed, but..." She paused, her eyes searching his. "Are you glad you didn’t kill her? Emma, I mean."
Steed’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. "It doesn’t matter anymore," he muttered, though the weight of his decision hung heavy between them.
Tara looked at him, her expression softening. "You’re one of us now, aren’t you?"
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered with something unspoken—regret, perhaps, or resignation. "You always knew I wasn’t before, didn’t you?" he finally asked.
Tara nodded slowly. "Why did you stay with me?"
Steed looked down at her, his voice quiet. "Because I had to."
Tara’s lips parted, her voice barely above a whisper. "And what made you kill the Iceman?"
Steed’s breath hitched, the memory sharp in his mind. "I didn’t have a choice," he said softly. "For the first time in my life, I had to kill."
Tara’s eyes glistened in the cold, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Because you felt like a Runaway, didn’t you?"
Steed’s gaze fell to the ground, his voice low and bitter. "I guess so. I felt something... something I’d never felt before. And I didn’t like it. Not one bit."
A long silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of everything left unsaid. Finally, Steed spoke again, his voice rough with determination. "Sanctuary better be worth it. That’s all that’s left for me now."
Tara looked up at him, her eyes full of quiet strength. "For us," she said softly.
Steed nodded, his arm tightening around her as they faced the cold, uncertain path ahead. Together, they stepped into the glistening darkness, knowing that whatever lay ahead, they would face it side by side.
ns 15.158.61.55da2
