Chapter XXVII

Dictadurian Hideout

Once outside the FK54 building, the air filtered through her suit once more, allowing Zanda to inhale fresh oxygen. The exterior, illuminated by a few streetlights and nearby buildings, was devoid of people. T.H.I.C. pointed out a few sentinels, but they were far enough away for her to disregard them. With the assistance of her merkabah, she leaped and reached the roof within seconds.

To her surprise, a group of Dictadurians was gathered there, engaged in drinking, smoking, and laughing, with their backs turned to where she landed. Zanda, not careful enough with her landing, caused the entire party to fall silent as the sound of her feet stepping into a pond of water echoed around them. Sacrorum activated, rendering her invisible to the Dictadurians' eyes.

A tall man approached her area as his circle of friends nodded, encouraging him to investigate while he sought their approval. The gevurah moved just before he walked right past her, glancing towards the edge and stepping into the pond.

"What furka was that?" a woman asked.

"Nothing, false alarm," he turned around, appearing triumphant.

His answer led to more questions.

"A rat, or the wind…?" someone with a sharp voice responded.

"With water sound? You’re not the brightest here, Tonele," the same woman interjected. "Maybe the edge is loose, and some concrete fell into a puddle."

"I vote for a rat," declared the tall, skinny man as he walked back towards the circle of Dictadurians sitting on two old couches and a few chairs, their only light provided by a lantern.

"I need another drink."

"Ferhin, catch!" The same woman threw him a black beer can.

"Thank you, Galeen," he caught it, opened it, and chugged half of it.

"Where were we before getting distracted?"

Zanda moved along the edge to the opposite side of the building, thankful for Pagreri's invention.

"The carriage in the middle of Mason Avenue..." Tonele resumed an interrupted memory.

"Ah yes!" Galeen, who had been narrating the story, continued. "Right after the rain, there was an official carriage, possibly even with Copernus inside. It floated across the street, plowing through the crowds. A few people were trampled to death. The man dragged by it was naked, drifting through acidic waters, disintegrating before the eyes of hundreds. Watching it was a terrifying experience."

"Copernus does these things to increase our fear," Ferhin mused, sitting down submerged by his thoughts.

"They have the power to do so…" Tonele leaned in towards the group.

"At least we have Negativus," another person mentioned.

"At least… Virna, does aequiteism mean anything to you? Or Malkuth? The place we all come from? Where we don’t have to worry about gatvits, death, or any other furka!" Galeen was overwhelmed with disbelief. “This can’t be a casual conversation now!”

"You’re reflecting on the past. We need to live in the present, or we won’t survive," Virna concluded.

"We should do some good and kill that furkan Copernus. With him gone, we could have a regime that actually cares about people," Galeen asserted.

"Oh, and who’s going to do it? You? Don’t forget about the fifty-year extension if you get caught committing homicide," she said, cutting through her own inspiration with surgical precision. "Copernus is just the tip of the iceberg. Think about Gorbat, the Families, and their umbras. Anyone who would step up in case of his passing, including the entire regime with their sentinels, it would turn into a battle royale the moment he dies."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Yeah, better wait for Capitalia.”

They laughed with relief, not taking the conversation seriously, yet it held the potential to one day change the reality of Dictaduria. Zanda, turning away from them, was drenched in their pessimistic ideas, a direct result of their harsh environment.

She empathized with their nostalgia. Living without aequitas would shatter her heart. The thought of having her dreams stripped away to become part of a primitive society sounded like a nightmare.

Her invisible feet touched the edge of the building once again; the ventos turned off just as she leaped. The view was unparalleled: at the distance the superior part of the rhomboid-shaped Dicterium rose higher than any other building, surfing in the sky, a slim yet colossal and unreachable structure. Surrounding it were hundreds of buildings, some taller, others shorter depending on the population density of the plateau, but most at least as tall as FK54.

"Is the street clear?" the gevurah looked down.

"There are a couple of sentinels a few buildings north; be careful."

Zanda jumped to the nearest roof. It was empty. She repeated the motion several times, crossing numerous rooftops, avoiding those occupied by groups of Dictadurians—it seemed like a common practice there to hang out at top of those buildings. On the edge of the last one, she propelled her gravitas forward, hurled herself from the structure, and landed in the middle of an empty street.

Displayed on her crystasleeve was a path leading to the under-city. The warmth of the ambiance was palpable and humid; the sulfuric smell from the leftover rain and pollution reached her nostrils. Something was bugging Zanda.

"Gia, what are the consequences of this acidic rain I keep hearing about?"

"It's polluted rain, a result of environmental degradation due to industrial intervention. It can occur up to fifty times a year; that's the record," her kabbalah provided detailed data. "This afternoon marked number thirty-two on their annual calendar, so it's unlikely to exceed that count this year. There's an average of fifty-seven deaths related to it every month; most Dictadurians are accustomed to wearing their protective coats known as derritals, which are provided by the regime for free. However, some unfortunate souls find themselves without protection when it rains."

"Fifty-seven deaths, and Copernus gives them raincoats. What a decent gesture from the regime!" Zanda's laugh filled the ambiance with irony.

"He is not favored by most Dictadurians but clings to power; the president portrays himself as a savior while bringing doom to the people every day."

Gia's tone informed the gevurah that she was impartial about the matter.

"Sounds like the Dictadurian system is functioning as planned," Zanda muttered as she reached a corner and turned. The rows of concrete buildings seemed endless in the distance; she arrived at the base of one, where an underground set of stairs was marked with an augmented reality indicator from her helmet. She descended. It was too dark to see without enhancements, but nothing night vision couldn't fix. Activated on her T.H.I.C., it allowed her to see everything as if it were daytime. At the bottom in that basement, she found a metallic door and tried to open it, hoping it was an entrance to Negativus.

"Wrong side…"

"Are you sure? There's nothing here. It's just a wall..." The gevurah turned, doubtful.

"Just try it, okay?"

Zanda positioned her hands and pushed against the concrete. Nothing happened. She then used her index finger to trace what she hoped would be an opening, to no avail. The woman thought about seeing through it, and T.H.I.C. facilitated the vision. Gia was right.

"Is there a special knock?"

"Nope," her kabbalah seemed to be teaching her a lesson.

"I'd be faster if you just told me," Zanda's exasperation was mounting.

Gia provided the correct instruction with clear dissapointment.

"Walk backwards; that should do the trick."

Understanding, the gevurah turned around, keeping her eyes on the metallic door, and walked in reverse. Her back never met the concrete wall; instead, she continued walking, far beyond what she had anticipated, feeling a certain level of vertigo. Intrigued, she discovered it was a holodoor.

Zanda observed as the fake wall reformed, solid and impenetrable, before her eyes. Curiously, she touched the cold concrete, baffled by its presence.

"How do they have this technology, Gia?"

"Smuggled and crafted from scratch decades ago by former sephira with Malkuthian knowledge, before the extractors were perfected," it clarified.

"How has it remained standing for so long?" Zanda turned to her right, where a concrete ramp descended.

"That's the interesting part. The regimes have attempted to destroy Negativus since discovering its purpose but have never succeeded. This place is impenetrable to anyone associated with Roland Copernus or the Elite. Almost no Dictadurian has disclosed access to these passages, knowing it would bring them nothing but trouble and lead to their death by the hands of their own. It's too valuable; many have died to protect the secrets of Negativus."

"What's next?" She was fascinated by these revelations, intrigued by the concept of the undercity.

"Follow the path on your crystasleeve; it will lead you to your contact. We have their live location." A graphic was displayed, revealing an image unknown to her—a blueprint of Negativus. The underground city stretched more than thirty levels deep, all interconnected by an extensive and complex network of tunnels and passages, reminiscent of an ant colony in its complexity.

"It's beyond incredible. I had no idea of its size." An orange line appeared on the map, indicating Zanda's current location and where she had to go.

With curiosity sparking in her eyes, she proceeded down the ramp, transitioning from concrete to rock. She crossed another holodoor and emerged onto an underground street.

****

That's it for Chapter XXVII!

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