Parking Garage

The cacophony of the voidspinner swarm echoed through the streets, the skittering of countless legs and the strange, distorted mashup of fragmented broadcasts creating a nightmarish ambiance. Laura clung to the reins of the dragonhorse, her arms wrapped tightly around Chan’s waist as they rode double through the chaos. Her eyes darted between the shifting shadows, her grip tightening each time the creature beneath them snorted nervously or sidestepped debris.

“Chan!” she hissed, leaning closer to his ear to be heard over the noise. “Where the hell are you leading us?”

Chan didn’t respond immediately, his focus locked on steering the dragonhorse through the swarm’s erratic movements. Ahead, he spotted a battered sign marking the entrance to an underground parking garage. He nudged the dragonhorse toward it, the animal’s claws clacking against the cracked pavement.

The opening yawned ahead of them, dark and ominous. Laura squinted at the automatic gates, their frame rusted and bent. An idea struck her—a desperate, fleeting what if. “Maybe…” she muttered, her mind racing.

As the dragonhorse carried them inside, she leaned over its side and slammed her boot into the control panel near the gate. “C’mon, just work!” she growled, her voice laced with frustration.

To her astonishment, the mechanism sputtered to life. The gates shuddered and screeched, the gears groaning as they slowly began to slide shut. Voidspinners swarmed toward the entrance, their mandibles clicking hungrily. Two creatures darted forward, only to be crushed with a sickening crunch as the gates slammed down with a final, rusty clang.

Laura exhaled sharply, sitting upright in the saddle. Her chest heaved as she glanced back at the sealed entrance, the screeches of the trapped voidspinners muffled by the barrier. “Well,” she muttered, half to herself, “that’s one problem solved.”

Chan guided the dragonhorse further into the garage, its hooves echoing against the concrete floor. The dim light of flickering emergency fixtures cast eerie shadows that stretched and warped across the space, giving the impression of movement where there was none. The air was thick, carrying a stale cocktail of mildew, old oil, and a faint metallic tang that lingered at the back of the throat.

Rows of vehicles stood like skeletal sentinels, their metal frames corroded but largely intact. Dust blanketed their surfaces in undisturbed layers, muting the once vibrant colors of paint jobs now faded to muted grays and browns. The tires, long since rotted or shredded, left many vehicles leaning awkwardly on their rims, like creatures frozen mid-collapse.

The farther they moved into the garage, the more the atmosphere shifted. The faint hum of electricity from the fixtures overhead mingled with the subtle groan of aging concrete, as though the structure itself were exhaling after centuries of silence.

Chan’s dragonhorse snorted, its claws clicking against the floor as its nostrils flared at the unfamiliar scents. Even the beast seemed unsettled, its ears swiveling toward the faint scrape of voidspinner claws still echoing from the sealed gates in the distance.

Stolen story; please report.

Laura shivered involuntarily, her gaze sweeping across the cavernous space. It had the eerie stillness of a tomb—everything frozen in time, untouched by the chaos that had ravaged the outside world. The stark preservation of the place only made the tension more acute, as if something unseen still lingered here, watching.

“Well, this is charming,” she muttered under her breath, though her voice betrayed no humor.

Chan said nothing, his focus on finding a spot to dismount. The oppressive quiet between them was broken only by the occasional scrape of the dragonhorse’s claws, the faint creaks and groans of the aged infrastructure and the distant sound of voidspinner claws scraping against the gates..

At the base of a side staircase, Chan dismounted, his movements calm and deliberate.

“Hold up,” Laura snapped, her temper finally boiling over. “What the hell are you doing?”

Chan turned, his expression neutral, his eyes scanning the faintly glowing emergency lights. “Why are the generators still working?” he muttered, more to himself than to Laura. After a beat, he added, “Heading up. If I’m right about what I saw, this might be our way out.”

Laura threw her arms in the air, her voice sharp and accusatory. “Are you serious right now? We’re in this mess because of you! If we’d stuck to the plan, we’d be out of the Danger Zone by now. But no—you had to chase after that pile of scrap, and now we’re stuck here!”

Chan turned to face her, his expression calm but unwavering, arms loosely crossed. “It wasn’t just ‘a pile of scrap,’ Laura. It was old tech—something valuable. Something worth the risk.”

She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Worth the risk? For what? A couple of shiny bits to add to your collection? We’re knee-deep in spider hell because you couldn’t resist poking around a broken robot!”

Chan’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained steady. “It wasn’t just about the bot. That module I found—if I’m right, it wasn’t just leftover tech. It was military-grade. It could mean something. Something big.”

Laura jabbed a finger toward him, her tone rising. “You’re always chasing your theories, your hunches, like some scavenger scholar. But out here, it’s survival first. And if we don’t make it through this, your precious tech won’t mean a damn thing.”

Chan didn’t flinch, his gaze holding hers firmly. “Besides, I’m not the only one who went off-road. Denzel ran after Mewlissa, and that led us to the Trial key.”

Laura hesitated, the words striking a nerve. “The key…” she muttered, half to herself, before shaking her head. “I don’t care about some mystical artifact. What I care about is staying alive.”

“And sometimes,” Chan said quietly, “you take a risk because it might matter later. I thought it was the right call then, and I still think it is now.”

Laura opened her mouth to retort, but the faint sound of a knock froze the words in her throat. They both stilled, their heads snapping toward the noise.

A second knock followed, deliberate and unmistakable. They exchanged a wary glance, their argument forgotten.

“Voidspinners don’t knock,” Laura murmured, her voice tense.

The sound came again, a steady rhythm against the concrete walls. And for the first time since they’d entered the garage, the overwhelming chaos of the voidspinners seemed distant, the cacophony fading into the background.

Laura drew her weapon, her movements cautious but resolute. She stepped toward a small side door, the kind designed for foot traffic. The knock repeated, louder this time.

She inhaled deeply, her grip tightening on her blade as she swung the door open. Her weapon raised, ready for anything, but the sight that greeted her stopped her cold.

Mewlissa slipped inside first, her fur brushing against Laura’s legs as she purred softly. Laura stared in bewilderment as the wildcat rubbed against her boots before darting to Chan’s side, her tail flicking.

“Good to see you too, girl,” a familiar voice drawled from the doorway.

Denzel stepped into the light, his massive frame silhouetted by the faint glow of the Trial key in his hand. Its pulsing light bathed the space in an eerie, calming glow. Behind him, the voidspinners circled at a distance, their restless movements halting at the edge of the light’s influence.

“So,” Denzel said with a faint grin, holding up the glowing artifact. “Where did you need to go?”