“Ouch.”

Ark touched his nose as he dabbed a tissue against the blood that was still trickling down onto his upper lip. Within moments, the blood began overflowing again, and he threw down the tissue with a frustrated growl.

Picking up a new tissue, Ark looked into the mirror as he worked the blood from his face with his left, while pinching the bridge of his nose with the right to stop the bleeding. When the flood finally became a trickle, he folded a new tissue and stopped it up his nostrils, sighing as he looked down at the mess in front of him.

Blood-soaked tissues filled the sink, staining the white ceramics set into a marble surface. The tiled floors had a sandy color with a reflective surface, enough for Ark to see himself staring back up at him with accusation.

I know, I know, he thought to himself as he began cleaning up, I fucked up.

Then again, maybe it had been worth it. He paused before throwing the last, bloody tissues into the trash, eying them as he fished out the coin from a pocket.

“Blood, huh?” He said, weighing both objects in his hands, before he shrugged and put the coin on the table. Wringing the tissue above it, he managed to get a few drops of relatively fresh blood to fall upon the small gem set in the coin, thinking it might be the catalyst. Then he picked up the coin, hefting it in his left hand, trying to feel something from it.

It was still cold to the touch. Now it was also wet with his blood. He felt absolutely nothing. The light in the gem flickered slightly, but once he changed hands, it stopped.

When he was finally convinced that nothing was working, he sighed and sat down upon the floor, leaning his head back against one of the stalls. What am I doing?

He sat like that for a while, gathering himself before he got back on his feet and walked to his room. There would be time for more experimenting later, right now he needed to rest before they went back out into Lowtown.

----------------------------------------

After an uneasy, but dreamless sleep, Ark and Mino got up and had breakfast at the guild before they went outside. Doug gave them a wave, but did not join them, neither did any of their teammates, who all kept to their respective groups.

They ate quickly, both feeling antsy and excited about what lay ahead. Ark could barely make his thoughts slow down enough to exchange a few words with Mino, who seemed equally occupied by his own imagination. Once they were finished, they quickly returned walked down into the main lobby and outside, into the plaza where the guild was located.

“He said to go to the central pillar,” Ark said, shading his eyes in the direction of the octagonal column that stretched up into the ceiling above them. It was always visible, wherever you were in Lowtown, and marked the inner-most secure area of Vanguard’s lowest level.

Mino acknowledged with a grunt, and they both started walking in that general direction. While they were distracted by excitement, the mood on the street quickly attracted their attention, as they began seeing more and more VISOR personnel at the intersecting streets.

The foot-traffic kept a visible distance to the tanks and officers, even more so than Ark felt was normal. When they had passed a third intersection with a heavy VISOR presence, he elbowed Mino and said, “Something’s happened.”

Eying him, and their surroundings, Mino agreed with a nod. While they had not gone to the center of Lowtown often, they had done it enough times to know this was unusual. “They’ve tagged us,” he said, quietly as they passed another patrol.

Ark also noticed how the officer leading the tanks clearly took note of them, his eyes lingering on them for a little too long to just be coincidence. Swallowing, Ark felt glad they wore uniformed jackets that marked them as guild members—even if provisional. The officer had to have good cause to stop any member of a guild, even small-time trainees, which gave them a slight layer of protection.

That did not help the unease that crawled down Ark’s spine as the pattern repeated for every patrol. Something had the VISOR officers interested in Ark and Mino, beyond their regular vigilance.

“We’d better hurry,” Ark said, increasing his pace. He did not want to stay out in the open for too long and risk one officer finally deciding to approach them. As one, they sped up, passing into the administrative district, which doubled as storage for a lot of Lowtown resources.

With the center as the only passage up above, this was a an area marked by transportation of all sorts of goods, going both up and coming back down. It was also the only place in Lowtown where vehicles began to outnumber the foot-traffic. Heavy trucks, laden with ore and crystals were a common sight here, while the buildings turned from square bricks into towers of storage facilities, most completely automated.

In between the towers, smaller buildings with signs above, marking what business they kept the books for, as well as inspectors of all that happened within Lowtown. Aside from the guild and its members, this was the area where the most affluent citizens of Lowtown congregated.

In front of them, the octagonal column at the center of Vanguard loomed above them, becoming more distinct with every step they took. It’s warped edges, which wrapped around the structure like snakes, were marked with interspersed lights that blinked in rhythmic patterns, creating the illusion that they were moving ever upwards.

Ark craned his neck, looking up at the area where the pillar exited through the ceiling in a ring of light, passing up toward MidCity. Opening his mouth to make a comment about it, Ark was cut off when a large explosion rocked the ground they stood on, and both he and Mino came to an abrupt halt while they attempted to locate the sound.

In between the towers of storage, Ark saw a column of smoke rising and pointed. “There,” he said, squinting, “Is that the factories?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“I think so,” Mino said, nodding, “An accident, perhaps?”

A laugh nearby got them both turning their heads to a man who had walked out of a small shop to see what was going on. He wore a staff uniform, with a badge that said ‘manager’, and wore a clean shave and styled hair that made him seem almost alien in comparison to the regular lowtowner.

He saw them stare at them, and shook his head. “You’re from the guild, right? You haven’t heard?”

“Haven’t heard what?” Ark said, looking from the manager to the smoke.

“It’s the third day in a row something like this has happened. That is no accident,” he curled his lip in disgust, “That’s the damn Fingers making another bloody statement.”

Ark felt his mouth run dry, remembering Sammie’s warning almost a week back. Very quietly, he said to Mino, “She said it was going to be big.”

“Yeah,” Mino said, worry clear in his face, “This is not good, Ark.”

“You’re damn right, this isn’t good,” the manager said, fishing out a cigarette as he walked up and joined them staring at the burning building in the distance. “It’s bad for business, that’s what it is. First they raid the docks, then they painted over one of the grain silos with all of their stupid slogans, and now this.” Lighting the cigarette with practiced ease, the man blew out a cloud of smoke and grimaced. “Mark my words: we’re all gonna have to pay for their stupidity.”

“Have they made any demands?” Ark said, deftly sidestepping the smoke.

“Apparently,” the man said, shrugging, “At least they painted a lot of demands. It’s just down the street—you can’t miss it if you’re going that way.”

Ark and Mino shared a look. At least this explained the heavy presence of VISOR in the area. Quickly pulling up a news feed on his netlink, Ark saw several official statements that he had ignored while they were focusing on training. There were no pictures of what the Fingers had painted though.

Thanking the man for telling them about it, Ark and Mino made their way down the street toward their destination. The storage facility he had mentioned was impossible to miss, its facade marred by the crude spray-painting, now half-erased by the diligent service droids. The humans overseeing the cleanup worked with a practiced detachment, as if this kind of vandalism had become all too common. The air was thick with the scent of cleaning solvents, mingling with the acrid smoke that had begun drifting over their position from the explosions in the distance.

There were still some slogans visible from the middle and up, and Ark read a lot of the old passages he had seen before from the Fingers. ‘Free Lowtown’ was a classic, while a drawing of a finger pointing upward with accusation, set in red circle was the official symbol of the movement. Ark read his way up the building, until he came to the very top, where the vaguest of slogans made him freeze up and eyes grow large.

“Ark? What’s wrong?” Mino elbowed him, gently, trying to get his attention.

“It can’t be,” Ark whispered.

“What?”

“It’s a coincidence,” Ark said, shaking his head, “Just a coincidence.”

“Ark… You’re scaring me here.”

“Sorry, I—“ Ark tried to smile, but it came off wrong. “It’s just my imagination.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” Mino said, hurt in his voice.

Staring at the words, Ark shook his head again. “It’s just that phrase up there, I’ve seen it before.”

Mino looked up and furrowed his brow. “I haven’t,” He mumbled, “Is it something new they’re trying out? Where did you see it?”

Ark met his friend’s eyes with a haunted look in his eyes. “Down below.”

There, in big red letters, someone had written, “THE END IS NIGH”

----------------------------------------

They quickly moved away from the vandalism, looking for the building that Mallis had told them about. Pushing out the message, and its potential implications, Ark focused on their immediate needs. It could be a coincidence, he kept thinking, nodding to himself as he scanned the buildings around them.

They found it 10 minutes later, a dilapidated building that everyone ignored as they passed it by. It stood awkwardly squat in between two large towers, dwarfed by the sheer size of its insignificance in the large scheme of things. It had a gray facade without windows, and only the faded sign ‘NNS’ above signaled it had any purpose at all.

Ark took a deep breath before he pulled at the door, leading into an old lobby with a smattering of seats and a counter at the far end. The flooring had once been carpeted, but decades of disrepair had torn it into shreds. In the corner, leftovers of what had once been a squatters home remained, along with a pile of trash that filled the room with the stank of mold.

“Ugh,” Ark said, scrounging up his nose, “This place is a shithole.”

“We’ve been in worse places,” Mino said with a shrug, then nodded toward the counter, “You think we need to check in?”

“Not sure.” Ark walked up to the counter, looking for any guidance on how to proceed. “I don’t think anyone works here—“

“Welcome.” A cracking voice suddenly cut through the room, making Ark jerk back in surprise. “Please place your hands on the counter for verification.”

Looking around, Ark saw no one physically with them in the room. Once the message had concluded, a part of the counter top revolved around itself to reveal a glassy surface with inlaid markings of a hand. Meeting Mino’s eyes and seeing a reflection of his own insecurity, Ark finally squared his shoulders and placed his hand on the cool glass.

Flickers of light ensued, and after a brief moment the voice continued. “Verification complete. Please confirm the information.”

Ark saw the glassy screen beside his hand come alive with information about him, along with an image. Under ‘affiliation’ it read as the Explorers Guild, and below it in smaller print there were one line mentioning the Respite Orphanage and another that was redacted.

“Confirmed,” Ark said out into the room, hoping that was what he was supposed to do.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the voice said, distinctly monotone, “You have been granted access to the Neural Network System. Please proceed into the indicated room on your netlink.”

A blinking message appeared in Ark’s vision, noting his designated room. Somewhat unsettled by the lack of information, Ark stepped back to give Mino room to repeat the procedure. Only now that he was observing the motions, Ark did not hear the voice speaking to his friend.

Regardless, Mino also confirmed, which led Ark to the conclusion that the voice was tapping directly into their netlinks, bypassing any notifications or restrictions that should protect from that kind of unfettered access. That realization made the hair at the back of his neck stand up, and he swallowed with unease.

“You got a number?” Ark said, once Mino had apparently finished.

Nodding, Mino looked serious. “Yeah… Did you hear anything when it spoke to me?”

“No,” Ark admitted, “I think it’s going directly through our netlink.

“That’s… Is that supposed to be possible?”

“Not for anyone but yourself or a mindweaver you've linked with—” Ark stopped to think for a moment, and another possibility came to mind; one that was just as alarming as the first, “—Or perhaps Vanguard.”

“You mean, that voice was…” Mino's voice was barely above a whisper, stopping himself from finishing the sentence as if saying it aloud might summon the entity itself.

Ark felt a chill run down his spine as he nodded. “Yup… I think we just had our first conversation with Vanguard.”