Chapter 9 - Beneath The Earth

Several minutes later, the men arrived at a location about a quarter mile from where the asylum was. They could see it across the field in the decrepit park as the car idled on the street right outside it. Sure enough, across the field, several armed guards held every entrance, and the iron fence around the park had a great helping of yellow tape across it, cautioning off any would-be visitors to the park-turned-gang-headquarters.

Despite the darkness of the night, the occupation of the asylum was quite clear. The group knew better than to make themselves known, parking away from the streetlights as best they could.

Osefin turned off the car and everyone hopped out, the chill of the night quickly gripping to them as the heat from the car's air conditioning dissipated.

Pouria looked around cautiously. He'd never been to the East side much, mostly due to nothing good being here, and the fact that he'd grown up on the West side meant that he never really needed to. In a city as big as Soulflare, bigger than any city that had ever been built in human history, everything one could want wasn't far from their reach in the hundreds of miles of urbanization. Soulflare hadn't earned the title of 'Metropolis' for nothing.

He was re-discovering the East side on the drive over, and quickly remembered why he never came here. It was often regarded as the worst district of the four cardinal directions, with many houses being built long before anyone Pouria knew was alive. Many of the criminal gangs fought for territory here so often that every wall was lined with graffiti, all smattered together and sprayed atop other gang symbols as the grips of power shuffled frequently in the neighborhood.

A part of Pouria knew that not all of the East side was bad, mostly due to the concept of 'sides' being an informal term when talking about specific neighborhoods. But he knew that it was also the place where he met Penove. Despite his most recent encounter with him being a little sour, he knew that people like him would have an upbeat attitude, and be resilient to the pain and suffering of the world. In Penove’s case, he tried to rouse others to feel the same. Penove always treated Pouria like family… At least he used to. He couldn't help but frown as he thought of this new version of him.

Though, he felt like maybe he should just be happy to know that his friend wasn't dead after all.

As the three men walked through the night toward the manhole Vevlan selected, Pouria stared longingly at the asylum, gripping the crowbar in his hand with fury. His other friend was in that place, along with Thunder. He quickly recentered himself from distant thoughts and focused on the task at hand.

He didn't know what he would find inside. What did the Stormcloud even want from Kaino? Pouria couldn't understand it. Maybe it was all just a trap. Thunder was downright obsessed with Pouria, and the ex-mayor knew that well. He hardly put ‘holding Kaino hostage to lure his rival into a final confrontation’ past Thunder's insanity.

Right below the men was a large metal disc about a foot and a half across. They could easily fit inside, but getting it off the road was an issue. Even as the streets were empty at the late hour, they had to hurry, because the desolateness only served to make them more obvious.

“Surely this isn’t the right one.” Osefin said. “There are no guards anywhere near.”

Vevlan nodded. “The real entrance is in the park, but it’s a sewer; there’s more than one entrance,” he said. “Let me just scan the tunnel below us before we get this thing off.”

“Alright, just tell me when.” Pouria said, watching Vevlan pull out a flimsy looking device from his satchel. It had a satellite dish of sorts attached to his phone by the charging port, along with a smaller controller of buttons underneath the dish. Pouria had never seen anything like it. A cheap looking dish that could grant x-ray vision was unheard of to him, but then again, it was black market tech for a reason.

There was a flash of red and black from the phone screen as it turned on, the device emitting a low beep to affirm its connection. The phone displayed a rough, grainy image of the ground below it in maroon-hued night-vision. But, nothing more…

“As I thought. No heat signatures.” Vevlan said. “Pry it open, Mr. Mayor.”

“You know you don’t have to call me that.” Pouria said, then jamming the metal rod into the crease between the metal of the manhole. It fit well, and found purchase all the way under the cover. Just a heave later and the disc of metal was lifted up, caught by a cautious Osefin’s hands.

“Nothing wrong with being polite to my friends, is there?” Vevlan said. “You deserve the title.”

“Not yet I don’t.” Pouria replied coldly, climbing into the hole. “I’ll go first.”

The sewer smelt as bad as Pouria expected, even opening it released a cavalcade of smells he never wanted to inhale again. The manholes led to the maintenance tunnels, blocked off by a wall from the sewer right beside the tunnel itself. Doors marked with unintelligible numerical codes lined the tunnel’s right wall.

Pouria watched Vevlan and Osefin both descend the ladder down to the floor as he listened closely to the murmurs at the end of the tunnel. Echoes of voices flowed through the air, soft due to the distance, but clearly said with vigor. Pouria couldn’t make them out, nor who their speaker was, but he knew they were Stormcloud members, surely.

“That way.” Pouria said quietly, pointing down the tunnel towards the speaker.

“Yeah, I gathered.” Vevlan replied. “Lead the way.”

Pouria did just that, Osefin right behind him, and Vevlan in the back, holding out his gadget up ahead of him.

“Mighty dark, isn’t it?” Osefin whispered. Lights on the roof meant to illuminate the pitch black tunnel were turned off, perhaps to ward off sewer workers who were getting nosey. The group moved carefully, the only source of light was Vevlan’s device, shading his skin in a dark red tone.

Up ahead, Pouria could faintly see the sewer curving to the left, illuminated by a faint, flickering glow. He guessed the curve could be due to the construction going under the park, and to connect up to the asylum. The glow, however, put him a little on edge. “See anything around the bend, Vevlan?” Pouria whispered.

“Nobody. But after this curve, there’s… what appears to be a lantern up there. It’s lit, someone has been down here.” Vevlan replied.

Pouria’s mind vomited back up what he had been trying to repress, the thought of all three of them getting mowed down in the tight tunnel by an assault rifle.

Besides Pouria’s Soulflare as a shield, they had no way of fighting back. And it would only take a couple dozen bullets until his Soulflare would give in. But Pouria knew that if he could get in close to a gunman, he would probably win the fight. While he wasn’t fully confident in that, he certainly had trained to take a man down if it ever came to it.

The turn was only a few steps away, and Pouria was the first to peer around it. Sure enough, there was a lantern sitting on the floor, just around the corner.

“Nobody. Let’s keep going.” Pouria whispered back to his allies.

They crept up toward the lantern. Right beside it was another tunnel, clearly not made by the city. It was lined with wooden posts all the way down, holding up the dirt in the makeshift tunnel. At the end of it, a metal ladder led upward out a hole.

“It’s unguarded.” Pouria said.

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

“Maybe they are at the top of the ladder?” Osefin queried.

There was a thick tension in the air as Pouria proceeded into the dirt tunnel. It wasn’t all that spacious, short enough that he had to duck down a little. And it was as tall as it was stable, dirt clods slipped loose from the roof and landed on Pouria’s new clothes. He felt a little bad for Osefin right behind him, who now had to watch the clothes he’d lent to Pouria get dirt stains all down them.

The ladder was right in front of them, above it was the glow of fluorescent lights, streaming down into the tunnel. Pouria approached with caution, channeling his Soulflare within him to be ready if a guard poked his gun down in the hole. But none came.

It started to feel too good to be true to Pouria, but he was already this far… He couldn’t turn back in good faith, especially not with Kaino so close.

Pouria took a short pause, turning his gaze back to his allies. “Are you ready?” he asked, his hushed words nervous.

Both nodded.

Pouria readied himself. This would be the hardest thing he had ever done. He’d been in many fierce debates, hours of training, even some quick brawls, but never had he prepared himself for a fight like this. He was unsure if he even could fight Thunder alone, but to get his city back, Thunder needed to die, and he needed to kill him to show that he could fix the city. He would get Kaino back, he would gain the citizen’s trust and perhaps support, and most of all, he would kill a thorn that had been in his side for far too long.

An unresolved problem. A demon of his past that refused to die.

Pouria climbed the ladder.

Above was a medical ward, also unguarded after a quick inspection. Boxes of supplies and rations were stacked high up to the roof, blocking out some of the light fixtures and completely covering the existing medical equipment, making the room feel just as tight as the tunnel below.

Pouria helped his allies up and onto the floor, looking out the open door to see a hallway. He could recognize Thunder’s voice booming through the building much clearer now than before.

“Here is where we’ll make our stand!”

“Let me handle this, mates. This has been a long time comin’.”

“That idiot will get ‘sweeped’ off his feet when he sees what I’ve got in store for him!”

The empty shouts of stale heroism, the quivering lust for vengeance in his chest, the poor grasp on the English language, all in that masculine, self-absorbed voice that still rattled in Pouria’s head. He knew it was Thunder, always the showman, always the fool.

As his new friends stood behind him, he stared at the doorway with some pause. He knew these two men were here to help him, but this wasn’t a battle they could fight at his side. It was Pouria’s past demon, one he thought he’d crushed long ago, with the power of his Soulflare, in front of the whole city on live TV. That ring, the whole stadium with it, rang out with his daft cries.

On that night, years ago, he remembered the look of fury upon the man’s face as he charged forth. He remembered that moment where he hit the ground after one last well placed punch to the teeth. A few of them rattled out and hit the floor, and yet they made no sound compared to the uproarious applause of the fans.

It was quickly hushed when the star of the ring spoke. He was Fight Loop Studio’s finest, his own crimson staining his scowl, sweat pouring down like he’d been drenched in rain, and he couldn’t hold it together. For all his talk of weakness, he had no self control. His screams were that of a dying animal’s.

“Cheater!” he cried, over, and over, and over. He could barely speak correctly without most of his front teeth. “The Soulflare Mayor couldn’t beat me in a fair fight! He gets to rule this city? No! He should be kicked out! He should be shamed like the dirty fucking liar he is! He is not your savior! He is nothing but a dirty lowlife who you fucks happened to elect! He is a cheater! A fucking cheater!!!”

Pouria could only shake his head as he climbed over the ropes, and walked out of the arena without another glance at the man. He would see him again, but not in person, only that ruined, bloody face upon every social site, newspaper, and magazine for the next couple months. Each time he saw it, it was like he was there on that night again. He didn’t understand why he kept going back there. But that perfect face of Thunder’s, forever scarred… All because of him. It was cruel to do that to a man.

He didn’t feel bad about it at the time. The fool humiliated himself, and that was the end of it. But he knew he shouldn’t have even made those petty remarks about his movie in the first place. Maybe if he hadn’t, Kaino would have been waiting for him at the gates of the city when he returned.

But no, he wasn’t, and thus Pouria sat in that metal chair yesterday, forced to see that ruined man again after such a long time, and now forced to see him once more to free his friend. Pouria cursed himself for being so unfeeling. Maybe if he hadn’t said anything about Thunder’s movie, hadn’t criticized it for the disgraceful, and perhaps correct, depiction of the mayor he was… if he hadn’t been so prideful… Today wouldn’t be today. Maybe he could’ve even walked into Thunder’s ring on this night, and asked for his help, all if he had just said something nice about his movie.

His sin of pride, he felt it staining him in his lurched chest, wrapped and hidden beneath bandage, still kept in his thoughts by the slow pulses of pain it let out in time with his heartbeat. So prideful was he, wounded, weak, and yet still egotistical enough to think he could rescue his friend, that he thought this city was still his? No. Pouria, the Soulflare Mayor? That Bear was a gift from a higher power, and yet he wasted his potential. He’d wasted his chance.

The Angel watched him even now, he knew it, he felt their presence, a judgmental gaze. His sins destroyed the city he sought to fix. It was all his fault, defying the light of God that gave him the very powers he valued almost as much as the city and his friends. It was all he had left, and he could use them to fix his mistakes. He failed. And the Angel told him to leave and never return.

Did the Angel call him back? He didn’t deserve a second chance, right?

Perhaps he didn’t. But Kaino needed his help, and he wasn’t going to die without a fight.

“Are we going in there, Pouria?” Osefin asked him, his words always calm, patient, and understanding.

With an invigorating breath, Pouria stood tall, his chest searing with pain as he puffed it out with pride- no… He puffed it out with bravery, with the force of a man ready to fight, ready to die. He was going to face his sins, and he would go in there to spite the Angel. He would win or he would lose, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to him was spitting in the eye of God without fear and saving his friend from the enemy he created.

“No. I am going in there. Alone. This isn’t your fight.”

Nobody would save him like before. He was going to win this by himself, man to man, just like he should have in that ring. Now that Thunder had a Soulflare of his own, it was fair.

Osefin and Vevlan, they couldn’t protest fast enough as Pouria ran out the door and down the hall into the massive open room ahead of him. His mind raced, his heart pounded, but his body kept moving him forward.

His voice echoed through the massive room, full of people watching as the madman Mayor arrived. It started as a scream of fury, but it became a roaring, rumbling battlecry, guttural and raw, straight from his soul.

“Thunder! You wanted a showdown?! In the morning, only one of us will be in my city! And it will be me!”