Chapter IX
The Path to Oxen
He had to find a route. Corven needed to consult a netcore, crucial hubs that interconnected the under-levels of Negativus. These netcores housed maps detailing various routes and points of interest throughout the city, including references to the grid of blocks on the surface of Dictaduria. These maps, drawn directly onto the walls by Binah themselves, were indispensable for navigation.
As Corven ascended, the terrain underfoot shifted, replacing the rough rock of lower levels with flat stones, a welcome change from Dictaduria's old cement. His journey was interrupted when a hurried figure collided with him, too engrossed in his own rush to acknowledge the mishap. Moments later, the man vanished into a throng of Dictadurians within an expansive underground hall.
This particular netcore lay beneath a magnificent crystal dome, a melting pot of Dictadurians clad in an eclectic mix of attire, from the minority of functional gray overalls to garments echoing the ancient styles of the subterranean town. Here, identities were fluid, allowing Corven a comforting degree of anonymity.
In Negativus, surveillance was a concept alien. No sentinels patrolled the area, only umbras prowled – minions of the families governing the dark markets under Gorbat's rule, the man, a figure of immense power or so Kevary claimed.
The undercity thrived as a cultural crucible, a safe haven where Dictadurians from diverse backgrounds gambled everything for nocturnal freedoms. The underground markets, teeming with contraband from Sectum's four nations, offered everything from weaponry to whimsicalities like vintage electronics, furniture video games and movies, all smuggled in by Gorbat's extensive network.
Corven’s attention was caught by the core of the hall, supported by a carved circular beige stone column, etched with a comprehensive map that illustrated the labyrinth of interconnected tunnels in meticulous detail with distinctive icons and names. He traced his route by finding Mason Avenue and circling the pillar to locate Oxen Plaza.
He couldn't help but draw parallels between these netcores and the ancient subway systems of Earth, back when it was still home to homo sapiens. Now, amidst the bustling throng of the twenty-seventh underlevel, he felt a pang of nostalgia for a world he'd never known.
The chaos of Negativus stirred memories of Pip, his kabbalah. The former binah was aware he wasn’t the brightest one around, and not having his guide made it a lot more noticeable. His survival, having stolen from Gorbat with Kevary's help and saved by Adria, was not of his own doing.
The undercity defied architectural categorization. Its design was an abstract, baroque, minimalist, and geometric amalgamation, a testament to the exiled Binah's creative liberties. The tunnel Corven stood in was a masterpiece of infinite, interwoven lines, creating the illusion of an endless vortex – another marvel from the Third Sephirot.
Exhaustion gnawed at him, the aftermath of a near-death experience and prolonged neglect. The oppressive heat urged him forward, weaving through the crowd with a mix of determination and desperation. finding paths and slithering through bodies with anxiety.
His journey to the seventh underlevel, expedited by his eagerness to evade the crush of bodies, took a mere fifteen minutes.
Emerging from a narrow passage, he found himself amidst the central underlevels' expansive vista, a stark contrast to the cramped depths below. This cavernous space unfolded like a living tableau, with intricate carvings adorning its walls. Trees, their roots and branches weaving through the stone, blossomed with leaves and flowers, while the gentle murmur of waterfalls filled the air with tranquil soundscapes.
Was Lux de Noctis located on the twelfth underlevel or the eleventh? Corven quelled his curiosity, resisting the urge to linger and explore this serene enclave of Negativus. Stepping into a semi-oval tunnel that mimicked the undulating form of an ocean wave, his focus sharpened. Recalling the map, he meticulously surveyed his surroundings, seeking the aqueducts' entrance that would guide him onward.
It didn't take long for him to locate it. Negativus, designed for peak efficiency and speed, was more intuitive and better organized than the grid of blocks on the surface. By using Negativus as a shortcut, he had bought himself a significant amount of time. Pip would have been proud of this achievement. His kabbalah, however, wouldn't have approved of anything from the past couple of weeks. It became upset when it learned he had broken the Edictum Vitae, warning him beforehand, but Corven had ignored it. While he served his time as an extarri, the ordigital entity remained offline in stasis.
If everything went according to the former binah's plan, that situation was bound to change.
He found himself standing in front of the access point to an aqueduct, a rectangular hatch marked with the symbol of Negativus—a subtraction sign atop an outline of Dictaduria’s territory. As he crouched to lift the gate, it swung open from the inside. Corven stepped back as the lid was laid on the ground.
A redhead woman with striking blue eyes peered out at him, knife in hand. Realizing he posed no threat, her expression shifted from caution to concern. "Did I hit you with the door? I'm so sorry; I should've checked before opening it in such a hurry…"
"No... I stepped back when it opened," Corven assured her. "I didn't expect someone was coming out of it, furk me!"
A nervous giggle escaped her. "Oh, good! Then we're fine!" she said, dismissing the incident with a wave of her hand. She climbed out of the hatch, emerging beside Corven. Soon after, a gray-haired man with a prosthetic leg slung over his shoulder followed her out.
She offered to assist him, but he rebuffed her. "I don't need your help, Saechi."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Got it. Do your thing, Glyn. We have all the time in Malkuth," she retorted, stepping back.
Corven was about to offer his help but hesitated after witnessing their exchange. "Don't worry; he's too proud," Saechi said, her voice soft yet tinged with irritation. "You're new here."
"Is it that obvious?" Corven disliked the idea of been perceived as green, even if he was.
Glyn, sitting next to them, laughed and brought the polymer leg he carried on his back forward ready to attach it into the stump of his leg. Corven noticed that both their overalls bore the label LS21L99b, indicating they were blockmates.
"You're a grassy field of spring flowers. Too polite, wait till people furk with you, and then you'll be in sync with the rest of us," Saechi said, her smile suggesting she saw him as naive.
"So, I should be rude?" Corven asked, puzzled; they already had messed with him.
"Sectum is a place that can turn you into the worst version of yourself," Saechi said, her smile fading into a look of resignation. "Don't give yourself the luxury of trusting in dictadurians."
To Corven’s disgrace, he already trusted her.
"Phew, you want to scare him off, don't you, Saechi?" Glyn interjected from the ground, securing the prosthetic leg. "You were going into the hatch when we opened it, weren't you Mr.?"
"Corven," he replied, his mind elsewhere.
"Well, Corven, the exit's yours now. Don't be shy," Glyn said, adjusting the limb, using a strap to unite both ends together.
"Yes, you're right. I'm on my way out," Corven responded with a smile, turning to Saechi. "Nice to meet you."
Her laughter was infectious.The man offered a fist bump, which she returned, locking eyes with him. Saechi’s gaze, deep blue and laden with kindness, lingered. "I hope we meet again," she said with a tone full of honey, or so the young man thought.
Smiling foolishly, Corven ignored the slim chance of their paths crossing again and nodded to Glyn, who had risen and mimicked the gesture, his towering presence imposing over theirs.
Corven knelt and entered the hatch, descending the ladder. Just as he reached to close the lid, Saechi approached. "Let me. It's the least I can do after almost smashing your face with it."
He watched as she maneuvered the lid shut above him.
"Benedeximus," her voice echoed as the hatch sealed. Good luck.
The passage would have been pitch dark if not for the soft blue LEDs lining the walls. The ladder, shorter than he anticipated, led him down about ten meters. At the bottom, a tunnel opened into an crystal aqueduct. The ceiling hovered just six feet above, with blue light reflecting off the liquid inside a glowing crystal pipe, a conduit designed to channel water through Negativus.
Corven noticed an entrance beneath the pipe. Kneeling, he understood why Glyn had carried his prosthetic leg: a duct requiring dictadurians to crawl through it, barely wide enough for one person.
Dragging himself beneath the pipe, Corven was initially struck by the marvel of witnessing the system constructed by his predecessors. The water coursed through the pipe with significant force, a testament to the ingenuity of those who had come before him.
Faced with a choice and uncertain of the correct direction, Corven berated himself for his oversight. Opting for logic over memory, he chose the right path, hoping it led upward and closer to the surface. However, his decision proved erroneous when he encountered a barrier minutes later, forcing him to backtrack and take the left path. The reflections of water cast a pulsating glow around him while the tediousness of the task offered ample time for self-reproach until he discovered an opening that led to a concrete chamber housing a solitary staircase.
Upon standing and stretching his weary limbs, Corven felt a renewed sense of determination. The journey through Negativus had been grueling, but he was driven to continue. His progress was halted by a wall at the staircase's end, but upon testing it, he fell through an illusionary barrier—a hologram.
Regaining his balance, he emerged through the faux wall onto the streets of Dictaduria. The darkness was mitigated by better lighting compared to Adria’s neighborhood. He quickly found confirmation of his location on a silver plaque marked JA1A1, indicating he was on the correct street.
Inspecting the exit, he discovered a false sewer cover, now sealed by a hologram solidified into an impenetrable barrier, a testament to the ingenuity that had preserved Negativus's secrecy.
Making his way toward Kevary's middle-class neighborhood, Corven noted the stark contrast to his and Adria’s surroundings. The area was cleaner, the concrete structures well-maintained, but desolate under the curfew's enforcement.
Moving with utmost caution to avoid detection, Corven distributed his weight carefully to minimize noise as he navigated the desolate streets towards JA6B4. The area was eerily quiet, resembling a ghost town more than a living, breathing neighborhood.
Turning left, he spotted the marked block, JA6B4-7, looming ahead. He quickened his pace, rapping urgently on the metal door. Silence greeted him. A second, more forceful knock yielded the same quiet despair. Frustrated, he tried the window, tapping insistently, but darkness prevailed within; no sign of life stirred.
"Kevary!" His call broke the stillness, met only by the other blocks murmur. A knot of worry tightened in his gut. She could be anywhere, lost in the vast labyrinths of Negativus. The thought of plunging back into the undercity’s depths crossed his mind, but he dismissed it almost as quickly. The odds were against him; finding Kevary there would be akin to finding a needle in a haystack.
With a final, determined knock, Corven turned away, his resolve hardening as he set his sights on Oxen Plaza. They had concealed the alters there, hidden amidst the shadows of the city's secrets. Though the exact location eluded him, he clung to the hope that memory would serve him upon arrival.
The plaza, when it came into view, was an imposing sight—a vast expanse of silver under the moon’s watchful eye, its surface a tapestry of metal platforms, each reflecting the lunar glow. The task was clear: find the yellow toolbox amidst this metallic maze.
But his mission was fraught with danger. Sentinels, ever vigilant, prowled nearby, their presence a stark reminder of the risks that lay in every shadow. Corven knew he had to tread lightly, for each step could be his last in this high-stakes game of cat and mouse.
****
That's it for Chapter IX!
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Aequitas and much love,
Indigo Sapiens.
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