In the remnants of an ancient city, far from any well known underground towns or trading points, could lie a plethora of treasure.

And in the same city, there could also be even more danger.

A young boy crawled. To where, he did not know. His mind couldn’t process it. It only screamed, get away get away get away...

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. This was meant to be a gold mine worth of ancient artifacts. And with the large groups that were sent to recover them, it was supposed to be a breeze retrieving them. In and out, they were told.

That’s why when Ket was told this was the first mission he was receiving as a new diver, he couldn’t wait to get out. With his family's support, he signed on for the big mission to retrieve information far east.

There weren’t many new divers like himself stupid enough to go on such a mission, other than an ignorant one somewhere around his age who wouldn’t shut up on the gondola up mayor Kelli’s estate.

Often, he wonders what that ignorant newbie diver was up to, and how his progress was.

Because right now, anywhere could have been better than here.

“Keep in mind: thoroughly search the area for any divers hiding out. They could be crept against slivers of walls, or have buried themselves underneath the rubble. Divers will become rodents just to keep alive.”

A voice of a monster disguised as a woman shouted to her followers.

—The very same that wiped out his diver squad, and the many other unlucky groups who were there.

Ket was all that remained. And all he could do was pitifully crawl. The feeling in his legs were gone; numbness began slowly creeping up his body by each movement of his shoulders scraping the crumbled ruins of the ancient city.

Move. Just...move… Ket thought in mumbles, hoping, praying, that this would save him.

“Hey!”

The young diver felt his heart flutter for a moment just before everything he felt succumbed to numbness.

“Found a bastard with no legs moving with just his elbows! Man...what a desperate, unlucky fuck you are.”

Ket had to move faster. Even the slightest bit would satisfy him, to escape from the monster's mother would often warn him of when signing up for this job.

Mother...I did it! Hmm? What’s…what’s wrong? Why are you crying? Don’t worry, I’ll be home so—

A gunshot crackled through the air.

“Hell...what does no lower half feel like? Hey Eliza; pretty sure every capable diver is dead, and the rest will most likely die even if we don’t find them. What’s the next move?”

The bandit, with a grin check-to-check, called out to their leader.

He merely heard from afar her response:

“We’ve done fine here as it is. Let’s search these ruins for what we came for.”

He couldn’t help but snort with laughter. “Eh, whatever the city-killer thinks is right, I’ll follow.”

Leaving the corpse of the diver behind, he called out to his fellow bandits, announcing their plans to search the ancient building for the “World Ender”.

***

A month had passed since they started following the road covered with a never ending forest, and their end was right before them with an ancient sign, though pretty worn and faded, that read Arlington 6.

Rye had heard of this place once before, and was instructed that this was one of many marked ancient buildings holding important military information. He’d always thought divers before him ransacked the place long before, but Kelli had somehow come across this information. The tip supposedly came from a diver who lost his other two members from traps, but whether it's true or not; no one knows.

Then sprouted rumors of a rumor. Some said inside the trapped building of the ancients, and that there was a way to control, or even completely stop the Mist.

And once Kelli heard of this, rumor or not, she gathered up every diver she could to search the place. Such information could not, under any circumstance, be unchecked.

“Far East.” He remembered the shouts of Kelli as she passionately declared the plan. “All of you must head to the ancient city bearing the sign Arlington, far east from here.”

He had been a couple months away from home before, but never this far out. It was never quite worth coming so far unless the money was amazing, or it became personal.

—Or, if Kelli proved to be right in this, there was something capable of changing everything.

Was something like that even possible? Kelli said it had something to do with the Mist, but what power could do that? How could such a thing…

“Mr. Rye!”

Traz broke his line of thought.

“I’m excited to see what’s here. Maybe I could find a souvenir from the ancients, or…?”

Rye smiled as he rest his hand on her shoulder.

“There’s many things here, it’s just up to you if you want to bring it with you.”

Traz returned his smile with a grin.

“Just, make sure to remember safety is above all else, okay?”

“Kay!”

If he remembered correctly, they were in a region of the ancients map which was once called Virginia. But with how the above is now, there’s hardly any person left to remember the exact geography. Or a reason to remember at all.

“Mr. Rye, what are these thingies called?” Traz pointed towards a cluster of metal boxes, all of which were heavily eroded by the elements, or picked apart for scraps by bandits.

“These?” He slammed his fist against the hood of metal. “We believe these were how the ancients transported based on the design, though nobody knows how they properly work.”

“Really? Nobody?” Her eyes glistened in excitement.

“Yep.”

“Hmm…” She wandered off in thought while staring at the worn device. “Not yet, at least.”

Rye couldn’t notice it now, but an intense throttle of curiosity sprang alive in Traz towards these ancient machines.

“By the way, how’s your leg feeling?”

“It’s doing good, I think? Sometimes it hurts, and I still have to watch out for putting too much pressure; but apart from that, I think I’ll be fine.”

Traz managed a grin, even as she tried touching it she held back any grimace.

Rye knew the little girl before him was resilient. So resilient in fact that she kept pushing forward the majority on her own with crutches. But it was that resilience that scared him; terrified, even.

...because Traz herself might never know when it’s time to quit.

He might not be able to control what Traz does, but he can help make her aware of the dangers.

And so, he went on to teach her how to properly use her head to solve any problems for herself:

From learning how to purify water sources, by either boiling or from any spare bleach or chlorine tablets. All the water above the caves was pretty much soiled, so you always had to clean it. Because without any water, you’re already dead.

Then there was food. If there’s no rations, then hunting was a good trick. Upon entering the city, the two were greeted by a family of rabbits, which Rye took the opportunity to let Traz shoot her first gun. It took a few tries to get her positioning straight with a handgun, but it was worth it being she got the mother in her neck, and proved to be a good meal in the end.

There were also a few basic survival techniques he taught her, such as skinning the animal which she killed, starting a fire for warmth or cooking, keeping a lookout for bandits and predators, as well as a few tips about guns and ammunition.

During all of which Traz watched with wide eyes, soaking in every bit of information her little head could keep.

“I’m surprised you actually hit it. Most children wouldn’t be able to make that shot.” Rye said, setting a leg from the rabbit to cook above the fire which Traz had started herself.

“Why would I not? Food means life!” Traz declared as her rabbit thigh seemed tender enough to eat. “Why would I die over feelings for a creature, which would do the same to me if given the same scenario.”

“I see… And you assume the rabbit would kill you, if in your spot?”

Traz took a bite out from her first rabbit, with stars seemingly bursting from her eyes.

“Yummy!”

She gulped it down, following up a gulp from her canteen.

“Ahh—maybe not all rabbits, but the smart ones would. The others that would have left me, well...they’re more in a way accepting death by skipping up on a meal practically given to them. Who knows when the next chance comes, if one even does.”

Rye felt a light chill spread down his spine.

“I’m sorry you have to think this way.”

He couldn’t bear having her think in such a manner.

“Why are you sorry Mr. Rye? It’s this world that should apologize!”

She got another chomp out from her rabbit, making a greater expression of awe for the taste of fresh meat.

***

Once you reach the city, follow along the south side of the river heading towards east until you reach about half-way, or just about in the middle of the city, and keep an eye out for a building in a rather strange yet large shape off on its own.

This was the only information he could go off, which in itself wasn’t too bad.

To make their trip somewhat productive, Rye used this time to teach Traz the values of navigation, and how you could easily lose your life from misdirection. He also went over previous survival tricks of finding food and water, to having to scavenge.

“There are situations when you need to trade for food, or to silently ‘borrow’ some.”

He then went on about how she could get food from other survivors.

“Never be unreasonable at first. That’ll create more than a hunger problem. Make sure to always keep some possessions for trading. You never know who you might come across out here.”

“But will everyone really be kind enough to trade?”

Rye answered her flatly.

“No. Some might blow you off completely, or some might even hurt you for what you have.”

There’s no telling what a person might do, especially this far out in the above. That’s why he reached for his pouch holding the small caliber handgun he made Traz shoot the rabbit with.

“And that’s what this is for.” Traz held out her hands, taking the pistol within her grip. It felt cold; its metal rusted. Her first gun, one she felt slightly familiar with from shooting. “You already have experience with hunting small game, and seemed to have learned how to use this gun. It’s yours.”

The grip welcomed her palms as she aimed through iron sight, flicking the safety off for a second, then back on.

“This definitely won’t help with every situation, and I want you to use it last before first, but it just might save you if you use it right.”

Her gaze wavered at the weapon. She found it hard to comprehend how such a small weapon can cause something, or someone, who was breathing and seeing just moments before turn immediately stiff and dark.

“We can practice firing to help you get used to shooting.” Rye looked around for a spot useful for training, until he spotted a low thicket with a bird's nest nestled deep inside. “Oh! Look over near that bush, there’s birds watching their young. How about shooting those?”

She followed along his pointing fingers, into the bushes of branches, and saw the family of birds comfortable resting inside their home.

With a deep breath, she lifted her arms up, pointing the gun towards the bush.

With an exhale, she shifted her gaze and focused down sight, picking a bird from the bunch. Her finger clenched the trigger, and was reminded of how freezing the metal really was.

A moment before she pulled, a small thought came to memory. She always wondered what death was really like. If it was painful, and what if everything really turned dark after you start breathing.

Her curious mind couldn’t help the thoughts, and so, she wished the little creature a mindful ‘farewell’ before letting the bullet release from the chamber.

An echo leaped through the air, causing a reaction of wildlife to jump from the disturbance of silence. Birds flapped their wings from fear of the sudden noise, and the rest of the family used their advantage of flight to escape from the monsters of the ground.

—All but one, whose wings attempted to spread, but life was cut short in a flash. It was sad, yes. But the others paid no mind, accepting the fact of the death in their family, and moving on.

As long as they were alive, all was well. Their next and only concern was finding their next source of food…

“Nice shot! You got the poor bastard!” Rye shouted in excitement.

I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re thinking. At least that would make the most sense.

She let her mind wander as her fingers returned, triggering the safety and lowering the gun.

It makes the most sense to survive, because caring for others would be too much of a hassle. And yet…

Her eyes shifted towards Rye, who was still hyping the shot she made.

...why are you risking so much to keep someone like me alive?

***

A week or so had passed as the two continued their journey among the ancient city. The wound on Traz’s heel seemed to be making tremendous progress; at this point they agreed she could walk without a cane altogether with Rye recommending her to not push herself.

A breeze of cool air ran a gentle stroke across the marsh within the trees and ancient homes that once stood strong. The above felt calming to Traz, and she took in the experience with a smile across her face.

But Rye felt something off. He came to know differences from a regular breeze to an alarming gust of wind.

—The air felt heavier, weighing in slightly more than normal.

The Mist is coming, but where is it approaching from…

In the midst of finding the wind direction, Traz interrupted his chain of thoughts with a surprising discovery:

“There it is! It has to be, it matches up to everything you described!”

A rather large building, or what used to be a complex, was surrounded by water and roads. It rested where the intelligence suggested; next to the river in the middle of the city.

“I wonder what this place looked like all those years ago?”

While the contemplation of ancient civilization reigned on for quite a while, they came to the ultimate conclusion that they just would never truly know. This gave them enough time to reach the rubble leading to the ancient building, and a little ways ahead lay an eroded sign bearing its name.

“The Pentagon. Quite a hassle on the ass if you ask me.” Rye took a good look at the structure of the building. For what still stood, it truly was large. Worn and crumbled for the most part, but it once must have been an immaculate structure.

Rye couldn’t help but grunt from exhaustion. “Getting here proved to be more annoying than it first seemed. Glad it's all over.”

“Woooaaahhh!” Traz beamed at the structure. “How long did this take?

“Probably a good few or more years.”

“How many people did they need for this?”

“Definitely a good bit as well.”

Her eyes told that her questions seemed to be endless.

Yet, Rye always found some sort of answer, even if they were a bit half-assed.

As the two played verbal toss of questionnaire, they were both immediately thrown off by distant howls of a predatory creature close to that of wolves.

“We should head inside before we get jumped.”

“In…Inside this ancient rubble?! Oh, I hope there’s still something cool I get to see!”

She started in a sprint, using her arms to balance herself as she dashed from rubble to rubble.

“Watch your step. Please…”

He called out to her, but was ignored. It seemed her curiosity overcame every emotion.

—And that was when she came to a stop. Her breath froze for a moment, before taking a few steps back.

“M-Mr. Rye?”

“Traz?!” He felt something was off. “What’s wrong?”

He sprinted until he caught up, resting his hands on her shoulders. He felt slight tremors throughout her muscles; something he’d never seen in her.

Then, he saw it. What she held in her gaze:

Corpses. Spattered around like animals underneath the rubble stairs from left to right..

In swift movement, Rye readied his machine pistol for any event. He was worried by Traz’s behavior, but it was most important to clear the area from threats.

Apart from being in total ruin, the rubble practically was flat apart from the slope leading inside to the building. Which meant…

“Whatever did this either moved on, or is still inside. And based on how these poor bastards were taken out, a good chance says they’re inside.”

Traz kept quiet. Rye thought it was unnatural for her, but decided to accept silence as her answer. That is until he felt a slight nudge at his sleeve.

“Mr. Rye?”

He glanced down to her, watching her wandering eyes gaze from body to body. He grew curious as to what she had to say, remembering once she had no concept of death, and paid no mind to the dead around her.

“What’s it like to die?”

For a moment, it felt like Rye had no oxygen at all, as if losing all his air. He inhaled, taking a look back at the girl who asked him a question.

“We have to go somewhere, right?”

His response caused her eyes to grow wide. He continued.

“I mean, it just can’t go to nothing.”

“So you don’t even know, Mr. Rye?”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Only the people who’ve died can know.”

“Really?! Then we should ask—“ her excitement quickly fell off as she realized what he really meant. “Oh, but they’re…”

He couldn’t help but smile while ruffling Traz’s hair.

“Let’s hurry and get inside. We can’t save these people, but we can save ourselves.”

“Fine, fine.” Traz replied, still pouting from earlier.

The two climbed across the rubble and corpses, making their way inside the building supposedly said to hold the key to the mist.

But before Traz fully entered, she glanced back at the bodies with a somewhat curious glare.

“I’ll find a way to find out.”

“Hmm?”

Traz turned to see Rye facing her. “Oh, it’s nothing!”

Inside was somewhat better than outside in terms of quality. The roof stood strong after all these years, though there was no telling when it could collapse. The walls were cracked and worn; as were the floor and furniture.

But one factor was shared just outside the building as there were continuous bodies sprawled around.

Rye held his finger on the trigger incase of anything. Based on what he knew, the bodies had a horrific stench, and each face, if still recognizable, were deep pale. And he knew who they were, for the most part.

“These poor divers…” he muttered, knowing these were sent on the same mission as he was. “Slaughtered, then left to rot.”

He was never told the total number of squads sent on the mission, but on body count alone, he could tell they were around three squads based on his previous squad with Jay and the others.

Am I the last one left, or are there still other squads left out there? It took longer than expected to arrive here, so then…

As Rye fell deep in thoughts, Traz hovered over a corpse that was shot just above his eyes. She noticed nearly all the color was gone in his face, though the entry point above his left eye had something to do with it. She poked his left arm, which with the other, wrapped around his chest, and noticed it was incredibly stiff as if the man had frozen completely.

“Interesting…” She grew fascinated with the locked-up body of a Deadman, and tried everything she could to move his arms.

“Rigor mortis. The man’s been dead for at least half a day, so his body becomes stiff and difficult to move. It goes away after a while, say a couple days, maybe depending on the person.”

“Rigor mortis…” Traz repeated him, astounded by how little they moved. “Does everyone do this?”

“Everyone I’ve met so far has.”

“Oooooh.” Her eyes sparkled, giving her a new well filled with ideas to drink from. “So they have only been like this for maybe a day or two...I wonder if the people who did this are still here?”

Rye, taken back by her analysis, nodded in agreement. “I’d bet so. Maybe you should stay back and find somewhere to—“

Before he could finish, Traz shouted against his idea. “Whhhhhhyyyy?! I can stay behind you and hide when things get too much for me.”

Rye stood his ground. “And what if things get too much for me? What might happen to you?”

Though he was confident in a gunfight, he believed anything in this world could happen. Luck seemed to be on his side as of late, but a single bullet at the end of the day was still enough to kill him.

“I think you ought to stay outside and hold up in some ancient housing for the time being. I’ll even leave you my gas mask for the mist if I take too long.”

Traz glanced downwards in gloom, but before she gave up, she cleansed her mind with a deep breath in, and exhaled out.

“And of predators? Also, what if our theory was wrong and the killers actually went out to look for supplies, only to come back while you're out? And especially if the Mist comes...I should be safer within this massive building, should I not?”

Rye wanted her to keep safe above, but her cold gaze only stopped his mind from creating counter-points to hers.

“That’s not to say—“

Before she could resume, Rye gave in.

“...fine, you can come along. But there’s no telling what might happen. Stay behind me and let me always go first, don’t touch anything, and once I tell you to hide, find somewhere not even hounds could sniff you out. Got it?”

Traz sighed upon hearing his conditions as she had no other choice but to agree.

“O-kay!”

“Great. Now let’s start searching for anything important.”

Now that that was done with, it was time to find what he was sent for; If it really existed. The building Kelli mentioned was actually here, which gave him some hope for the mission.

“Let’s see…” Looking above an entrance to a hallway were decayed texts that read “Ring E…and Ring?”

“Mr. Rye, these also lead somewhere too but these two don’t have the same text as this one.”

Standing in the main lobby, they found a hallway forward leading to D ring, as well as two hallways on both sides slightly angled in another direction that lead to a completely different hall.

“Where should we go?” Rye blinked twice while looking around.

“Forward is the only way to go! Let’s go down here!”

Traz took hold of his hand, and before he knew it, she led him down the long corridor of decayed and dusted structure.

“Hold on, wait one moment! We should really check out what the other rooms lead us to…” Rye’s voice trailed as they entered the next room. It was similar in shape and decay to the previous lobby they had just left, except for a few different office furniture. But what shocked Rye the most was the same hallways leading forward and angled on both sides.”

“Look.” Traz pointed above the entrance with a door missing. “C ring.”

“D...C, I take it there’s B and A as well?! If that’s so...just how large is this building?”

From there, they went onto C and saw a different set of furniture, but practically the same hallways with one leading to Ring B. They figured the next hallway would lead them to Ring A, giving them a total of 5 rings.

And that’s not to mention they had yet to start observing the halls entirely, and adding that Rye noticed stairs leading to a second floor of the building on every ring.

“This’ll be a pain in the ass. Stay behind me, we’re going around each ring until we find something.”

“Won’t that take forever?”

Traz looked off into the dark hallways filled with ancient rubble, feeling her head mush with all the paths they would have to take.

“Maybe we should at least look for somewhere with high importance, but finding and knowing that place is gonna be a bitch ‘cause I ain't got the slightest clue as to where it could be. So it’s best to thoroughly check instead of hoping for a way to cheat.”

“Hmph!”

Traz puffed her checks out as she held tightly to the leathered hem of his coat,

It was like taking a step back in moldy history as the two checked around each ring, but instead the smell revolved around dust.

The building itself is incredibly massive, being it took them half a day to search the first floor.

In all, there were remnants of a cafeteria with strange box-like machines lined up along the large walkways connecting the main business and office areas, as well as some smaller operating rooms meant for only a handful of people.

“Mr. Rye?” He felt a poke on his back. “How many ancients do you think were here at a time?”

“There’s no way I could know. We live in a much different world than they did.”

Traz wavered from his response before she could respond.

“The Mist really fucked us up, huh?”

“Language.” He turned to sharpen his gaze at her.

She quickly glanced down as her eyes fluttered.

“R-really?! How come I can’t say those words yet?!”

“‘Cause I said so.”

Traz fell behind the shadow of Rye, trying to understand how that could be a reason to not say it.

“Anyway, I’m starting to wonder if there really is anything of value left here, or what we’re even supposed to be looking for.”

Rye traced cracks from the wall to a midsection that led to three different pathways.

Specifically, the midsection they first began looking around.

“There were hardly any signs of anything to stop the mist from what we looked at…is there really anything here at all?”

Behind him, rest the corpses they had seen upon entrance. They remained still, untouched for half a day.

Rye stared deep within the gaped sockets of one divers eye. If there was no sign of a bunker, then why were so many dead divers in the entrance.

“Look!” Traz blurted out as she pointed towards an area clear of rubble. “I bet there’s something underneath that moved all the rubble! Us finding nothing all across the first floor also proves that this could be something as well!”

A theory of a secret bunker. Such things were quite rare underground, and were never advanced, but the ancients…

“...might just have had the technology! Perceptive little thing aren’t you?”

She couldn't help but smirk at her own brilliance. “Well I’m sure anything was possible for the ancients if they could destroy their own world, so why not something simple like a secret entrance.”

Rye rewarded her with a few headpats, before shifting his attention to the clearing.

“I don’t see any point I could lift it up. Maybe there’s some kind of lever device that lowers it?” Rye looked around, searching for any nearby clues. “...but I don’t see anything. Could it be somewhere else?”

Apart from switches set aside by nearly every door, in every room, there was nothing indicating that it would have any kind of purpose.

“Maybe…” Traz started, as his gaze turned elsewhere. “Should we keep looking upstairs?”

The stairs leading up looked as if they were moments away from crumbling themselves, with even one step causing the entire stairwell to crumble. Rye checked the stairs parallel to these, but found those to be in an even worse state than the last. Actually, they already crumbled up top.

“I’m starting to think maybe there isn’t anything up there. It’ll fall underneath me anyways, so—”

“—Those stairs fell pretty recently.” Traz interrupted him in a glee tone. “Look at where they fell.”

She led him to a few steps that fell, pointing to dust and blots of red mixture. “Ancients' blood was faded and practically etched into place, whereas recent blood has color, and there’s no dust covering it yet. So something has to be up there!”

“Okay, fine. But these stairs can barely hold me.” Rye saw light to her argument, but what if every section of stairs was in terrible condition just like these ones, or had withered away entirely.

“You might be big Mr. Rye, but I’m lighter than dust! I’m sure I can walk up there no pro—”

“—And of our little deal?” Rye cut her off instantly. “What if something happens? If the murderers are still up there?”

“We haven’t found them yet! And I’ll be quick about it! You can go see if there’s another way up while I’m up, then we’ll be connected again!”

Rye bit down on his lip. He hated the idea of letting her go on her own, but they had no other leads to go off of, and it would only be for a short duration.

“Fine. I’ll try to meet up with you, just be careful and look out for any important rooms and levers.”

“Important rooms and levers...got it!” Traz flashed a smile as she casually walked up the stairs. “See you soon!”

Rye kept watch in case anything were to happen on her ascent, but it was as if she walked along a perfect fine set of stairs.

“Guess I should catch up now…”

He muttered, dashing off into Ring D of the complex.

He checked every possible way up, on all five rings, but each was destroyed or blocked off in some way. Stairs were crumbled, or damn well near crumbling. He even tried elevator hatches to climb up, but the hatches were eroded shut beyond opening.

What if something were to happen to her up there?

After the initial worry, more flooded his mind.

Could the people who murdered the divers in the lobby be up there?

What if the second floor isn’t safe, and the floor falls underneath her.

Maybe some kind of messed up species took habitat up there, and she could get attacked—

As his mind flew in a frenzy, there was a brief shockwave that had been sent through the building, as well as metal doors clashing together. It reminded him of the sound of the gondolas back at home.

“Is that back in the lobby?!”

As if answering his question, he heard a faintly distant shout.

“Mr. Rye!! I think I found it!”

Rye caught up to the shouting of an excited girl, who, upon entering the room, found her grinning cheek to cheek at the secret entrance she opened.

“I’ll be damned…” Rye couldn’t believe it himself. There were metal stairs with dim fireless lights on each wall. As he moved closer to get a better look inside, he saw stairs descending into darkness.

“Mr. Rye…” Traz nervously spoke.

He felt a nudge on his coat, and looked to see Traz pointing outside the building’s main entrance.

—And he shared this anxiety Traz felt. There were packs of wolves, flocks of birds, and other wild creatures swiftly moving down the ruined streets. The fact they weren’t fighting each other meant flight was key to survival, and only one thing could cause every beast to run.

“Is this what the Mist does?” Traz asked. She moved to get a better look, watching the herd move in one. There were a few who had trouble keeping up, and those who couldn’t keep up were quickly stampeded to death. Shifting her gaze to the back, she saw it. The quickly ensuing mask of white meshed clouds moved in, taking up much of the distant sky to where it surrounded the city completely.

“We need to head down.” Rye interrupted. “If the stairs can close like before then we might be airtight.”

She nodded, and took hold of his hand. She took one glance back at the white mist that destroyed the ancient world. What a beautiful thing, she thought as flashes of light emerged from inside the luminous glow.

This has to be. It has to be. If it’s not…

With his first step in, a pair of lights shone near the first entrance.

“Those lights turned on when we got close…!” Traz gawked at such a technology, quickly being consumed by a new curiosity.

….then we’re left with only one option.

With every few steps they took, a new pair of lights barely lit only enough to see the next five stairs. This continued the rest of the way down upon the final step, where lights lit up to reveal an entire room filled with priceless ancient technology. What made them priceless was that they still worked. Computers lit up with strange ancient text flashing across each screen, Bulbs of light shone brightly across the ceilings, and a cold breeze began to chill the room.

“What is all this…?”

Rye had a hard, even impossible time taking in everything that was happening. The sudden lights without fire, especially the numerous amounts that shone, it all practically flew through his head.

But for Traz…

“Ah...ooooh, so from what you’ve told me before, for there to be light apart from a source of fire, there would need to be electricity, and it was nearly all lost due to time apart from those learning the arts now, right? So then...just how much electricity is running through...everywhere?!” With her curious mind, she began to slowly piece together the intricacies of the room; even if by concepts.

“The walls! I bet something connects them all together to work. Ha!”

She smirked, lightly sliding her palm against the walls.

“But what causes this? Electricity, you said, but what makes electricity? And why does this bunker have it?”

“Honestly, you’re further ahead than I am at figuring this out.” Rye admitted to knowing nothing. He quickly came to accept it as is and focused on the slanted hallway leading further down into the complex. “Hopefully we’ll know more the deeper we go.”

Rye took a few steps forward while Traz remained entranced by the lit-up screens.

—But before Rye could move further, a female voice sprang from the walls as if air it self emanated the voice:

“Welcome—error, unknown registrants. Please contact an administrator or personal if there are any problems with ID’s. As of now, there are 8 detectable heartbeats within this premises—7 detectable heartbeats within this premises. Have a nice day!”

Unsheathing his gun in an instant, Rye held no clue where to aim it.

The voice was unique, in a tone he had never heard before. But what dazed him was that the voice was projected in multiple directions.

“Woooaaahhh!”

Traz erupted in joy as she searched across the walls.

“Pretty female voices came from the walls and ceiling!”

“Well…” he truly had nothing to say. “Let’s be careful. There’s five too many lives with us down here.”

“Okay!” She half-heartedly answered as her new-found focus consumed her mind. “I wonder...you must take electricity as well.”

Down the hall was a central hub of sorts with a lobby desk and another one of those large boxes. The only issue was it didn’t lead anywhere; off to the side was just a small room with a list of buttons reading through one to five.

“...”

Rye stared at the contraction in awe as the lone bulb that lit the room slowly swayed from left to right.

Do the numbers represent something? Maybe floor level...it's gotta be. So we should be on level one then. Best to be going down chronological order, so then two…

Boop.

“Whew...I want to grow taller already!”

Traz pouted from only being able to reach the fifth button. The box then slightly shifted upward, with the same female voice swiftly following behind:

“Moving down towards department 5: Strategy floor.”

As the two watched the speaker box blast her words, the light above flickered off and on until it completely died out.

“Warning, low power from generators. Be cautious of any electrical surg—”

As the voice cut out, the box plummeted downwards in a complete freefall.

In an instant, Rye wrapped himself around Traz in an attempt to shield her from the fall. Constant banging against the outside caused the box to stutter on the path down, which may have roughed up the descent, but at least it wasn’t a straight fall. His back slammed, smashed, or pounded against the walls, but after each hit, he made sure to tighten his grasp around Traz.

Rye thought he could hear Traz’s muffled cries for a moment, but everything was drowned out by screeching metal. He thought this moment would last forever, that this was hell. All he could do was think. Think until it’s over. Until…

“—es that could happen at any moment. Please accommodate by avoiding elevator usage until the problem is solved.”

...the box, or elevator, suddenly stopped in motion.

Rye crept his eyes up, and for a moment, he saw the dwindling light once again swing left to right in silence.

“M-Mr. Rye…?” Traz pulled her snot-filled nose away from his chest. He looked down to spot tears creeping down her cheeks. “I-I-I don’t e-ever wa-ant to do that ag-gain…”

“Yeah…” Rye could hardly find the air within himself to respond. “I’m with you on that one.”

“Floor 5..”

The doors slid open along with her words, though the right door only moved halfway before getting stuck in place.

A soft mass of warmth slid in Rye’s palm. He glanced, finding Traz holding his hand. Her gaze was averted towards the ground, but it seemed like the floor itself was transparent for her to look through.

Me too, kid.

He took her hand, squeezing tightly to assure they were still there; still alive. He left the elevator through the working door with Traz following close behind.

Leaving from the doors brought them into a massive room filled with desks all facing the same direction. They faced a large platform similar to a stage, but a single podium rested up top. The room was lit up by each box on the desk, with every desk supporting identical boxes.

But perhaps what made the stage most interesting were dozens of skeletal figures in uniform bunched up against the podium, accompanied by empty bottles of some kind of ancient drink.

“The hell…” Rye rested against a railing leading towards the stage. “Hope everything’s working.” He looked up at the ceiling in hopes of getting his thoughts straight, but even a moment seemed hard to come by as the elevator began moving.

Beep! It first sounded as the doors began slowly moving shut. Then, another pair of doors shut off the elevator’s access entirely. Rye grimaced as he could hear metal scratching against metal, but with more resistance as it moved upwards.

“Is that supposed to happen…?” Rye questioned the contraption. He neither knew a thing about how it worked, or how it moved. But he had a terrible feeling once he heard the screeching come to a stop, and footsteps began filling the elevator.

Voices, though muffled, could be somewhat heard from above.

“...really think someone's ‘ere?”

“Fuck could they get here? Place was built ages ago! You could combine all our ages and it still probably wouldn’t add up to this places’ age, so I betcha’ anything coulda’ malfunctioned when the power died.”

“The hell would ya know?! I bet you can’t even count to ya own age jackass! Someone could have wandered down here!”

“For my sake, SHUT THE HELL UP!!”

“Ma’am!” The bickering men seemed to suck up to the woman's demand.

“Going down.”

The moment the elevator woman spoke, Rye knew he needed to reach somewhere safer. He took hold of Traz’s hand and sprinted to the other side of the theatre-like room, taking cover behind the last desk with a perfect view of where the elevator doors would open.

Rye patiently peered over the rusted desk, which he also used to rest his machine pistol on for recoil control.

He waited. Waited while screeching metal slowly edged its way down.

The still air felt heavy enough to crush him. Even through all his years of combat experience, something about this moment gave him chills.

“Mr. Rye…?”

It was then, when her delicate whisper reminded him that he wasn’t alone—Traz was with him. She looked into his eyes with a fear of her own.

He reassured his grip, took a deep breath, and Zen focused on the doors opening ahead.

“Floor 5.”

The elevator speakers announced, to which the doors promptly followed with opening.

“Say Kimball, suppose the Mist’ll re—“

Midway through the man's sentence, the doors began cracking open.

—And the moment Rye had a view, he let his machine pistol open fire on everyone inside the small room of the elevator.

“...!”

In the sudden rain of bullets, two men instantly collapsed in sight. Without a doubt, they were dead.

But to Rye’s surprise, and even dismay, the ring of an empty chamber rang throughout the now sudden room. He hoped to kill them all within a short space, but…

The door...the fucking elevator door?!

His mind raced as he saw the left door still malfunctioning. The door stuttered from closing to opening, yet it never fully closed.

“Von?! Danny?!” One of the remaining men shouted with exasperation. “Bastard…! I’ll kill ya!!”

“Jacky, keep your head straight for a minute!” Another voice cried out, as a figure in dirt-stained overalls rushed from the elevator with a break action shotgun.

“Like hell I will—“

A burst of sound pierced the air as three casings fell to the side of Rye.

In his left hand, he held a more compact pistol that shot in bursts of three with a magazine capable of holding fifteen bullets.

Each bullet connected right above the other, seamlessly tearing through the man's coat and tearing his flesh. The force pushed him back, which caused a jolt enough to shoot a shell of his shotgun into the ceiling.

Rye took cover from falling debris. But in this short moment, he grimaced as footsteps shuffled from the elevator to cover behind a desk. He peered over to get a glimpse, but instinct yelled to get back down. A moment after following his instincts, a round went off, with a bullet flying a mere inch away from his scalp.

Shit…! This is just gonna turn into a game of pot shots until either side gets a shot, and there’s two of ‘em, which makes this all the more hell…

He could hear the patter of footsteps across the room rushing both to his left and right; or a pincer attack.

Rye inhaled, letting air suffocate his lungs, then exhaled, clearing his mind of any stray thoughts. Lowering himself in preparation to leap, he came face to face with Traz as she curled underneath the desk. Her hands cupped her ears, blocking out all sound as her dilated pupils gazed back with rushing adrenaline.

“Stay here Traz, and stay low.” He said as he motioned her to stay down.

“Keep doing fine Mr. Rye.” She said with a half-hearted grin. He could only meekly reply:

“I’ll always try.”

With the ample time given from the last shot's fired, Rye was able to reload his machine pistol. He had to be ready to fire back in an instant to whichever came first. Following closely to the instructions of sound, he waited…

Until both stopped moving. “Jed!” A familiar sounding voice of a woman called out, in which Rye knew their plan immediately. He leaped back away from the desk, escaping shots from both directions while also grabbing their attention away from Traz. Figuring they would attack simultaneously, Rye came equipped with his machine pistol in his right hand, and compact burst with his left. He was hardly too keen on akimbo, but rough times called for desperate measures.

Though, Rye focused his main aim to the left only for a hunch feeling that told him she was dangerous.

Instead of rushing, the woman only showed enough skin to fire around the corner of the desk. Tactics used if you had no clue where the enemy was, or if you wanted to fire around a corner without getting your face meshed.

But Rye proved it futile by firing a burst of bullets. One pierced her palm, the second shot at the right angle to enter the arm without exiting, shortly following the third, which unfortunately missed by a hair. That didn’t matter much as she still cried out in pain, dropping the gun.

Now for the second—!

Rye could feel each moment as if he and time held a mutual understanding. He shifted his gaze towards his right, taking aim in his iron sights for the shot—!!

“...!”

Rye grunted as his right arm collided with one of the office chairs, causing his grip on his pistol to weaken. Rye attempted to quickly regain himself, but with his previous momentum lost, he failed in doing so in time.

“Ya deserve this ya fuckin’ bastard!!”

And in a fit of rage, the man began unloading his pistol at Rye. Flashes and ear-piercing shots filled the room one after another as he released his anger by means of gunfire. Five, six, seven...He probably could have continued, but an eight shot flashed the room. Not from his gun, but from one right under his feet. The bullet went clean through the center of his now bloodied eyes, killing him instantly.

It was Traz, who only took a moment to process that was her first person she killed before rushing to Rye’s side.

“M-mr. Rye?!” She cried upon seeing him with blood trickling down onto the floor. As he lowered his guard, Traz came to realize he used his legs as his main shield, while he covered his face with his arms.

What was she supposed to say? Was there something she could do? Usually her mind remained calm and would assess the situation. But at that moment, her mind became a blur.

“There’s one more…”

Rye was able to whimper as he lowered his guard.

“Mr. Rye! But what about you?! Let me think...this is an ancient bunker with their technologies! Maybe, they might have some kind of super medicine that could heal you right up, and, and…”

“Traz!” Rye’s low scowl snapped her back into reality. “There’s one last bitch in this place. I doubt her right arm is gonna be working anymore, but that’s nowhere near as good as dead.”

He lifted his arm and motioned her to help move him against the wall. She tried in maintaining a positive outlook of this, but his heavy breathing kept her mind strained.

As he was prompted up the wall with his legs spread out, Rye examined his wounds. Five in total connected, three in his left leg with the other two in his right arm. Two had a clean exit through his flesh, which he quickly sanitized and bandaged up to stop bleeding, but three…

“Here.” Rye handed her his prized weapon of choice: the machine pistol. “The next part of this’ll get messy, and I don’t want you to watch this.” He reached into his bag for a pair of medical tweezers. Something he had hoped that would never be needed, though still remained a vital tool for a diver.

“B-but Mr. Rye, there has to be something for me to do that can help—”

“—Traz,” Rye started. “You’re a smart girl. I know you are. Probably smarter than me in some ways, even. And right now, I know somewhere in your head, you’re thinking the same thing as I am: That bitch needs to be killed in here before she does anything else.”

His words clashed with everything she wanted to do. But he was right. Deep down, she logically knew that even if they were safe now, there’s no telling what the last threat might do.

And so, she took a deep breath to flush out her mind. A mental reset, letting everything that worried her be pushed aside for what she needed to do.

“I’ll be back, Mr. Rye.” She checked the magazine of his pistol to see if everything was set, before picking herself up.

“One more thing…” he grabbed her attention once more. “I believe this isn’t my first encounter with her, that she was at Venisi.”

“Understood.” Traz replied before following in the direction of the woman.

I’ll get her Mr. Rye...just you wait.