THE LOWER CITY
It feels like the lower districts never end. They just get older.
Xu descended into another stairwell. The walls in this one were slick with something that might have been water fifty years ago but had since crystallized into something else. The railing had rusted through in places, leaving gaps that opened into darkness below.
There’s got to be a safe place here somewhere. I just need a dark room where I can be sure I won’t be ambushed.
Turned out the city had an entire graveyard for that.
The buildings down here existed in layers. Nobody ever bothered with demolition after The Merge. They all thought it was too expensive, too complicated, but more importantly, there were too many things that might wake up if you disturbed them. For as long as he could remember, they always just built over it. New foundations on old roofs. New streets on old ceilings.
The city had grown upward like a tower of the blind, burying its past under its present until the bottom layers compressed into a tumorous wasteland of impossible scourge.
Tombs. “Caves.” Folklore. You name it, it had it.
Crunch.
Xu's boots passed over debris that groaned under his weight. Might have been tile, glass, or even some kind of calcified wood. The air smelled like rust, old concrete, and putrid organics left to ferment into a new type of wrong.
Perfect.
He pushed through a door that had fused halfway closed, but its hinges had long since surrendered to decay.
Creak.
Xu slowly shut his eyes.
The door separated from the frame and screeched as it fell towards the floor.
A smile tugged at Xu’s lips.
Reminds me of when Lee was so scared that he decided to hide in that warehouse to get away from that weirdo. Poor guy, the look on his face when he realized that he had hidden inside the place which that very same man called home.
A single flexible LED strip illuminated the passage ahead. Whoever laid it had let it spiral along the concrete, coiling forward along the ceilings, walls, and floor into the darkness like the rifling of a gun barrel. Half the colors had long since died, leaving only a stuttery, chromatic strobe. It looked like a flashing entrance to the forbidden.
Xu walked forward anyway.
The Divine Fission cartridge swished in his pocket, and his nanosword waved on his back as he peeked into rooms whose "seals" had been cracked.
He leaned through another.
No one. Honestly, feels like this room couldn’t even protect me from my own spear. Pass.
He continued forward, then turned a corner and stopped.
A man stood in the middle of the hallway.
He was still. Just... standing, staring at the wall in front of him.
Xu waited for him to react. To acknowledge his presence, but he never did.
He jumped back around the corner and grabbed a loose rock. It squished in his hand.
What did I just grab.
Xu shook his head and threw it.
Clunk.
Nothing.
He moved back into the hallway and tested the waters with a step forward.
Still nothing.
Another step.
The man's shadow moved, separately from him.
It stretched across the wall to Xu's left, reaching toward a doorway while the man remained perfectly still. The shadow moved like it was walking, one leg in front of the other, until it disappeared through the door frame.
The man never so much as flinched.
He blinked and continued to stare at the wall.
The man’s chest would subtly rise and fall. Besides that, he seemed like a genuine statue.
Xu walked around him carefully, taking the widest detour he could.
As he squeezed past, he noticed the man's feet. They were planted firmly on the ground. Soot, mold, and debris had gathered at their base. Scuff marks were leading up to the wood where he stood. Like he'd been walking, and then just... stopped. Frozen.
Some flickered to Xu’s left. The shadow had come back. It stood against the wall, or rather, a part of the wall. And it looked at Xu.
He moved to the left. The shadow followed. He moved to the right. The shadow followed once more.
I can’t even imagine what kind of Interpretation led to this kind of thing...
Xu kept moving.
The shadow watched him leave.
Behind him, he heard nothing. No breathing. No footsteps.
Just the faint buzz of electricity sparking somewhere.
Two floors down.
The hallway widened into something that looked like it might have been a lobby once. There were the remains of furniture—a desk, and mostly some chairs that were all of it bolted to the floor and caked in a layer of dust so thick it practically looked like snow.
In the corner, a woman sat at the desk.
She was writing something. Her hand moved across paper, her pen scratching continuously. It was unusually loud.
Xu slowed to a stop.
She didn't look up.
He watched her for a moment. Her hand moved. The pen scratched. She reached the end of a line, lifted the pen, moved it back to the left, and continued.
Over and over.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Xu stepped closer.
The paper was full. Every inch of it covered in writing. Tiny, cramped letters that overlapped each other, bleeding into eachother as the bottoms of her hand did the same.
It was red, swollen, and torn open, likely from rubbing God knows how long.
She reached the bottom of the page.
Set down the pen.
Picked up the paper.
Placed it carefully on a stack to her right, towering six feet tall.
She pulled a fresh sheet from a stack to her left, only half as tall.
Picked up a pencil from her collection and started writing.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Xu looked at the stack of finished pages. He picked up the top one.
The writing was so dense he couldn't make out individual words. Just a solid block of ink, pressed into paper with enough force to leave indentations on the pages below.
Maybe. But would she even know anything?
He placed the paper down on the desk, then grabbed a fresh one and stacked it on top. He lightly colored the top of it with a pencil until some of the words she wrote could be visible.
DIE. DIE. DIE. DON’T GO. DIE. DIE.
He put it back.
Maybe it’s not right, but can I really blame myself for not wanting to think about what it does to all of these people? What if it was Taylor? Or Lee?
Xu sighed.
The woman didn't look up.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Xu left.
Three floors down.
The stairs here were cracked concrete. Some of the steps had crumbled away entirely, leaving gaps he was forced to jump.
He landed on the next floor down and immediately heard a sound.
Footsteps.
Directly behind him.
Xu turned.
Nothings there?
He waited like a statue.
The footsteps resumed.
Step. Step. Step.
Xu still saw nothing.
He took a step back.
Step.
The sound echoed from where he'd just been standing, just half a foot away.
He took another step.
Step.
The sound followed him. Ten seconds late. Like his own footsteps were walking behind him, trying to catch up.
Xu stood perfectly still.
Step. Step. Step.
The sounds continued. Walking toward him. Closing the distance between where he was and where he'd been.
Then they stopped right behind him.
Xu didn't turn around.
Instead, he waited.
Then walked forward quickly, taking the next stairwell down.
Behind him, another ten seconds later, he heard his own footsteps follow.
He shivered.
I don’t know what I’m near, but for its effect to be so wide…?
I should get moving.
Four floors down.
The walls here seemed different. Much older, impossibly so. The paint had peeled away in sheets, revealing more concrete underneath, but it was pitted and scarred.
Water damage, maybe?
Xu found another doorway. The door itself was missing, and beyond it was a room.
Inside, a man sat at a table.
He was eating.
Fork to mouth. Fork to plate. Fork to mouth. Every time his meal approached his lips, it was as if time had rewound. His food would reverse on the exact path it had taken, but by itself, floating, without his fork.
The meal was old. Xu could smell it from the doorway. It was undeniably rotted and spoiled. The smell made his face wrinkle.
The man was in tears, but he wasn’t sobbing. They just run down his face.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Did… Did it spoil just while he was trying to eat it? How long has he been here?
Xu looked closer.
He wore a flannel and black slacks with an exceptionally nice belt buckle.
Fresh. He’s gotta be.
He closed his eyes and looked away.
He won’t survive that punishment.
Fork to mouth. Chew. Swallow.
Fork to plate. Scrape. Lift.
Fork to mouth.
His eyes were open. Staring straight ahead. Not at the food. Not at anything in particular.
Just open.
Xu watched for ten seconds, but when he turned to leave, the man looked up, and his eyes met Xu’s.
“I’m sorry,” Xu half-whispered.
The man’s face crept into a frown as he let himself really cry.
Xu left him there.
Im so sorry.
Five floors down.
The air was different here. Heavier. Like it had been stagnant so long, it had forgotten it could do anything but be still.
Xu's boots echoed on the blue and white tile, further cracking its old mosaic flooring. Some of them crunched under his weight.
Not many people must come down here. Finally, we’re getting somewhere.
He turned a corner and saw a faint, flickering light at the end of a corridor.
He approached it cautiously.
Inside the room, a single bulb hung from the ceiling. It swayed gently, though there was no breeze.
And beneath it, tied to a chair, was a girl.
Xu stopped in the doorway.
She was young. Maybe 20. Her wrists were bound with rope, her ankles tied to the chair legs. She’d been gagged and blindfolded.
Xu's first instinct was to leave.
I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m not sure I want to.
It’s someone else's problem. Someone else's nightmare.
He took a step back.
The girl made amuffled sound through the gag.
Xu stopped.
No. Do not do this. You’re in deep enough shit already.
He took another step forward, then hesitated.
A man’s face flashed across his mind. The translucent outline of a face, his mouth open in a silent, airy wail.
Absolutely not. I have my own problems. I have Divine Fission, and I don’t even know if I’ll survive...
I could lose everything. My life is hard enough.
Another muffled sound.
Xu closed his eyes.
"Why can’t you just stay out of it?" he whispered.
He stepped into the room.
The girl's breathing quickened as he approached. She tried to say something through the gag, but it came out unintelligible.
Xu raised his hands slowly. "I'm not—I'm just going to take that off. Don't scream. Please."
He reached forward and carefully worked the gag loose. It came away wet. He tossed it to the side.
The girl gasped, sucking in air.
"Thank you,"
“Are you okay?” he asked.
"I'm perfectly fine," she said instead. Her voice was hoarse. "Everything is wonderful."
Flash.
Xu blinked.
"...What? How long have you been here?"
"30 seconds," she continued, tears forming in her eyes. "I love it here. This is exactly where I want to be."
Flash.
Xu looked down at his chest. The light flickered.
But I wasn't even the one talking?
He looked at the girl again and furrowed his brows.
Her eyes were red. Her wrists were raw under the ropes. She was shaking.
He leaned in and whispered.
"It’s okay, you can tell me the truth."
"Yes, I can!" she said desperately as tears streamed down her face.
I… What…?
Xu's gaze drifted to the floor.
Paper.
Everywhere.
Hundreds of crumpled balls of it, scattered across the tile like fallen snow. They covered the ground so thickly that he'd stepped on several without noticing.
He bent down, picked one up, and smoothed it out.
"The box you're looking for is in the west shopping district."
Xu raised an eyebrow.
He picked up another.
"The box you're looking for is in Emerald City."
Another.
"The box you're looking for is carried by a Spec."
Another.
"The box you're looking for is grey in color."
Xu's hands moved faster. Grabbing paper after paper. Reading.
"The box you're looking for is wooden."
"The box you're looking for won’t enhance someone’s strength."
"The box you're looking for is in the lower districts."
"The box you're looking for is in that direction."
"The box you're looking for is in that direction."
"The box you're looking for is in that direction."
I am so far out of my depth.
Hundreds of them.
All about a box.
All mostly different answers.
Xu looked at the girl.
Then at the table in the corner.
On it was a collection of neat, tidy papers.
"The box you're looking for is in Fluix city."
"The box you're looking for is in the possession of a craftsmen"
"The box you're looking for is reddish in color."
"The box you're looking for is in the CyberSEC District."
“What’s going on here?”
"I’m here to buy a chair," she said. The tears were falling now. "I hate my jacket."
Xu's mind clicked.
He looked at the papers again.
Then at her.
She’s not wearing a jacket.
Is she…?
Xu walked over to the table, flipped one of the notes over, and wrote: Your name is Xu.
Read this, he shoved it towards her,
“Your name is—"
COUGH.
Her eyes screamed as she tore at her throat.
…
I knew it.
Xu stood there staring at the evidence scattered across the floor.
But whoever would have a Sacred Aposate… I need to leave right now.
The girl said nothing. Just stared at him with eyes that begged him to understand.
But he did understand.
He moved to untie her ropes—
Footsteps.
Xu froze.
Real footsteps. Not echoes like before.
"Shit," Xu breathed.
He looked around frantically. The room was small. One door. No windows. A table in the corner. Some kind of storage locker against the wall.
The locker.
It’ll do.
Xu crossed the room in three steps and pulled the door open. It was empty except for some old equipment.
He hesitated.
THE GAG.
He rushed back and put it back in her mouth before slipping into the locket just in time to hear a man enter the room.
He stared through the vents of the locker as his heart hammered.
A man. Extremely fit and cloaked in a skin-tight lining of metal without his helmet wrap on.
Xu’s breath caught.
A high-tier Nanosuit!?
It was a sleek black with faint blue circuit tracing running through its plating. It was probably worth more than anything he had ever laid his eyes on.
He didn't look at the girl. Didn't acknowledge her at all.
Just walked to the table, sat down, and pulled out a pen and paper.
Xu watched through the crack.
The man wrote something. His pen scratched across the paper. The only sound in the room was her muffled cries.
He finished. Set the pen down, stood, and walked over to the girl.
Shoved the paper in front of her face and took out her Gag, hanging it around her neck.
"Read it," he said. His voice was flat. Bored. Like he'd done this a thousand times.
She read: "The box is guarded by magic."
The man grunted and crumpled the paper, dropping it on the floor. Went back to the table.
Paused to think, then wrote another.
"Read it."
"The box contains something from a cultivator."
“Hmmm.”
Crumple.
Another one.
The man's jaw tightened. He wrote faster.
Crumple. Drop.
Write. Crumple.
"Read it."
Xu watched the man's shoulders tense. Frustration building.
Crumple.
Write.
He threw a chair across the room and screamed.
His chest heaved as he breathed, trying to regain his composure.
Swish.
Her gag slipped off from where it had hung around her throat,
This time, the man paused before walking over, writing a new one, and then carried it to the girl.
"Read it." His tone dropped.
She looked at the paper.
She didn’t read it.
SLAP.
“READ IT!”
"There’s… someone in this roo—"
She choked.
OH FUCK.
Xu wanted a quiet, dark room where he wouldn't be ambushed.
He got... half his wish. Multiple times, in fact.
Welcome to the Lower City.
Mind your breathing, follow the story, and turn on some relaxing ambiance.
It'll help keep you conscious in 13.
Probably.
No?
...That's okay. They prefer it when you don't use your peripheral vision.
( It is highly recommended not to look over your shoulder until the chapter is finished. )