“Sky, why are you obsessed with building a legacy? There are other ways to cement your mark on human history that don’t require a focus or apprentice in this case?

Aerthyos. I won’t last much longer. I know you don’t believe me but I can feel my end coming and I need something to stand after I’m gone.

Sky…Korthos. I can’t imagine why you see death around each corner and still present in a jovial way. But trust me, you’ll live.

But–

No. You’ll live, I have…contingencies.”

* Recorded conversation between Sky-Blue Wire and his A.I. while E̵n̷g̷i̸n̴e̶e̸r̴ w̷a̸s̷ ̵s̴u̸i̵t̸i̴n̸g̶ ̸u̷p̸ - ████ ħꝋᵾɍꞩ ⱥꞡꝋ.

***

Entering the fourteenth floor I was welcomed to the sleek blandness of clean spaces tailored for education and food preparations. Strange how they were next to each other but seeing the culinary school surrounded by other trade schools made sense in a way. A small mall of education studios covered the left hand split of the wallway while the right had the food court.

Having them so close to the stairs made it clear they wanted customers and students from the neighborhoods around the stairs one floor above and below.

Smart and practical. No wonder these three floors were so often connected in other ways.

Sometimes some sections of three floors were closer culturally and physically than other sections of the same floor. Macroon was just that big.

Walking past the smell of burnt oil I found the hallway that led to the industrial section of the fourteenth floor. If there was a ladder to the inbetween space anywhere nearby then it was out of view of me and the cameras Monitor was watching.

The hallways looked familiar, just like the ones I ran through as the Model Six - D was chasing me.

As I thought this I came across an intersection that had a familiar passage. I wasn’t sure which way was which until I spied the water on the floor. It led back to the water treatment plant.

I peered down the hallway to the destroyed double doors. The flood of water through debris everywhere, including the hallway. I saw a piece of the wetsuit rack and other miscellaneous garbage.

Whoops. That will be expensive to clean.

Heading away from my last escape method I moved up the winding corridors that I ran through. This time I was going in the opposite direction.

The Antithesis bodies were gone. Thick blood trails of Antithesis goo all went down the same split. I assumed that was where the nearest entrance to the hive was located.

I took a step towards that direction before freezing in place.

I had a mission to do and when I think about it. Not a lot of ammo. I would need to be careful of any Antithesis I encountered from here on out.

Heading back up the hallways, I found closed security doors and a couple broken doors. Smashed in by the Kentrosaurus no doubt.

That Model Six - D was determined to murder me.

I wonder why?

I’m sure there were more tasty or calorie rich biofuel that didn’t require the effort and long chase.

Maybe the plants were cruel and wanted to see humans suffer. Who knows?

Maybe Monitor does but I couldn’t split my focus as I entered a space that was known to have Antithesis.

Crossing an intersection, I was careful to check all directions for the aliens before continuing forward.

A beep from my side had me check and see that Monitor warned me about Antithesis in a connecting room.

Moving quietly forward, I was watchful for both the Antithesis and ladder.

As I was nearing a corner, an open doorway showed a Model Three pawing at cabinets while another jumped onto a table and started eating off the plates.

I was careful not to make a noise as I crept forward.

I was almost safe when one paused and sniffed the air.

Oops, I smelled of sweat, blood, and lemon.

Pretty distinct in this situation.

I pulled the Hammerhead out of the holster, the small charm swinging around.

The two Model Threes torn off in my direction, faster than I’d ever seen the doglike monsters sprint.

I was prepared and as I turned off the safety I aimed for the first one’s head and-

Slam.

The room doors closed and locked with an audible click.

Then the sound of two bodies slammed into the metal door.

The sound of dogs scratching at the door came from the other side.

“What the… Did you do that?”

“No. There are traces of the electronic ghost that haunts you.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Ha ha, it was my ghost.” I say, still confused about the situation.

I had an A.I. following me about, helping me? It does sound possible because Monitor is here but why haven’t they tried to make contact?

I pushed it back for now since I had an objective to complete.

Rounding the corner of the hallway I found the ladder and the blood stained floor of the hallway I had climbed down into earlier this day.

Climbing up the ladder was a lot harder than climbing down the last time.

Maybe it was because of all the new stuff I was carrying.

Or because I was going up?

I was glad I left the manhole open. Trying to open the rusty thing while balancing on the ladder would be terrible.

As I entered the inbetween space I felt…gross.

Everything was covered in the rust film, my gloves changed from the white to bleeding orange.

I scanned the area with the penlight and found it exactly as I left it.

Terrible and falling apart.

Besides the obvious decay and neglect, the space around the ladder was clear, the manhole itself was sloped into the foul water. I was glad that the ladder entrance was raised.

Stepping into the water, I started down the tunnels.

As I climbed over refuge I tried to recall all the strange traps I came across previously.

The ones that stood out were the flame jets, the swinging blade, and the electrical wire in the water.

But I was sure that was one I was missing.

I was worried, obviously, this was a death trap that I was waltzing through.

But besides that, if this space was rusting away, how long would it take before the rot spread?

Would the ceiling on the fourteenth floor start corroding, or has it already?

These thoughts occupied my mind, as I tried to retrace my steps.

At one point I found a part of the tunnel devoid of debris.

I didn’t remember any space like this, but it was extremely suspicious.

Squinting at the dirty water my penlight flickered.

Fuck. I really should’ve charged it.

I needed to move while it still had some semblance of light in it.

The inbetween space wasn’t dark per se. But the dull orange glow from emergency markers didn’t adequately light the deluge and I was worried about what was hidden in the shadows.

Moving forward quickly, I realized why I didn’t recognize this area.

This was the space with the spike wall-

The wall started to move, either a motion sensor tripped or something else complex as it pulled toward the other side.

I was in flashes as the penlight began to die.

Sprinting past I found the grime again but had to barrel over and through while I still had light.

I was really glad about my gloves as I had to grab a waist high pile to vault my legs over. I felt the rusted metal grind against my protected gloves.

Without them I would be subject to a nasty introduction to tetanus.

Running I spotted a familiar area where none of the trash was waist high and I slid under.

Before I even began to slide, the blade flashed toward me. Cutting over the piles of debris like a lawn mower of the rich estates of the twenty plus floors.

My hat was nearly trimmed as the brim stuck out far enough but then I was on the other side and I could stand again.

The slide saved me but also covered me in the foul rust and grease on one side.

After this I would need a fresh shower and a change of clothes.

But maybe worry about the death trap and murderous Samurai first instead of clean clothes.

I still worried about my clothes.

Standing up I checked the tablet. At the flamethrower, I needed to make a turn instead of going straight. Which was technically safer because the electrical wires wouldn’t be on the path.

However, I didn’t know what was down the new path.

As I half ran, half jogged down the tunnel I found the dry spot that signaled the spot where the flames licked often.

Changing passages I found a place with less liquid and more spikes. Great.

The sharp points of broken equipment reached out and I recognized a few machines in their corroded state.

That one was a courier cart without the wheels. This one, poked as I passed, was the seat and frame from a hover car or machine that required a driver. The frame was dented as if it hit something big.

My dying light revealed a couple more details and something embedded in the seat itself. All the padding was gone but it was clear what caused the destruction. A massive bone spike, one from a Model Six - D’s tail had pierced through the seat to the point.

Anyone driving the machine would’ve died instantly from the positioning.

I moved on. This didn’t make sense. Macroon was supposed to be safe from Antithesis. This incursion was irregular but if this rotting trash had evidence of Antithesis from years ago then I was missing something.

The trash down here was in such a terrible condition I couldn’t identify how long it lay in disrepair. Forgotten. Neglected.

As I thought that, my light died.

Oops.

I didn’t want to run wildly in the dark.

I held the tablet up for a moment for the low illumination as I moved the next couple of meters before the trash cleared up.

The ladder had a set of unique warning lights. As if the people building this area wanted to make the exits easily recognizable in an emergency.

I made a note to look up the person who installed the set of green, blue, orange, and pink that outlined a ladder logo on the ceiling.

The button nearby actually worked to open the top of the ladder. Light flooded in from the fifteenth floor.

Climbing the ladder I realized that this one wasn’t connected to ventilation but instead into a maintenance closet. The shelves were filled with boxes and bottles of cleaning supplies.

I was tempted to use some soap on my body but…It was useless. My clothes were probably stained for good and any cleaning product I grabbed was sure to be toxic at their concentration.

Better just to move on to find the weapon.

Exiting the closet I found a familiar hallway. This was a hallway where I escorted the civilians down. Near to the fight that ended everything.

As I walked down the hallway, my feet slowed. I felt a rising dread and when I rounded a corner I found the first of the civilians.

Slumped to the side they looked to be sleeping but the one behind them had a blood trail. As I moved forward the amount of bodies increased.

One here, two there, a group in a burnt pile.

After that pile I found pieces of Antithesis. This was what Sky went to fight midway through the first of the Antithesis fights in this section.

It looked to be more Antithesis than what we fought in front. Although it was hard to tell since they were all in small pieces and kicked around by people running through the chunks.

Stepping through the path made by the civilians I made it to where the group stood during the fight.

I found the rest of the civilians and a couple security guards here. Or I assumed they were by the melted guns near their bodies.

It was awful.

I couldn’t breathe, the smell of death was overbearing.

I stumbled back but then pushed forward, past the worst of it.

Or at least that’s what I thought.

When I reached the front I froze. The gore was worse. Knowing the people and seeing it happen made it worse. I drew in a breath and gagged.

I had to place the rebreather back on my face to get away from the smell.

Without that, I felt just enough separate from the scene that I could pretend I was just an observer.

Walking through the lucid nightmare, I stopped at Belken. The security guard was killed by a hidden Model Four. Everything else that happened after was in a blur.

But I saw he was positioned to the side with some sort of handkerchief over his face. His arms had been crossed over his chest and his gun was laid at his feet.

When did that happen?

I moved to where I saw the rest of the security guards in various degrees of damage.

Coriro’s entire left side was burnt.

Roody had a knife size hole through his head.

I grabbed Coriro’s legs, feeling numb at this point, and dragged him to the side, near Belken. I tried to do the same as they did for their fallen comrade.

I found the same type of cloth in his pocket, Coriro had four or five and I assumed more in the burned side of the jacket but I didn’t try to search on that side.

I crossed the good arm and covered his face. His Stingray was placed at his feet, slightly melted where Amadeus’ flames caught it.

I moved to Roody, poor Roody. I repeated the process until the guards were aligned in neat-ish rows.

I didn’t believe in any of the established religions, but I had seen clips of Twitch sermons in my media feed so I gave a crude prayer to whoever was listening. “I didn’t know you nearly long enough. I cherished our moments together and… those memories will always be a part of me.”

I sucked in a deep breath of contained air. “You did everything to the standards of what our society considers good men. I hope wherever you are now, is what you deserve. And if it isn’t, may I find a way to give you exactly what you deserve.”

I stumbled through the last parts, the parts everyone skips at the end of the stream sermon besides the ads.

I stood in silence over them, my prayer to whomsoever it may concern.

Then I moved to the dead Samurai.