The silence in the Emergency Throne Room was far more terrifying than the noise outside.Lord Varian stood on the palace tower balcony overlooking Sector 4. His hands, wrapped in white leather gloves, gripped the stone railing. He wasn't looking toward the setting sun. He was looking toward the giant crater covered in gray fog that had now become a mass grave for thousands of his taxpayers.Black smoke billowed high, staining the evening sky that should have been clear.Behind him, the Acting Chief Technician stood trembling. He held a copper document tube with sweaty hands. The old chief technician had been executed that morning."Speak," Varian ordered without turning. His voice was calm, but there was a sharpness that made the hairs on the back of the neck stand up."Y-Your Grace..." the technician's voice shook with fear. "We have analyzed the remains of the main shaft that was thrown out. The seismic recording needles do not lie."Varian turned slowly. His face was handsome, with

The world above was preparing for war, but true death crawled beneath the ground.Sector 4's drainage system was the large intestine of the Aurellian city. This slimy ancient brick corridor flowed with a river of black sewage carrying piles of garbage, rat carcasses, and concrete residue from the collapsed tower.Ganda walked in front, dragging his feet in knee-deep water. His right hand gripped the slippery wall to maintain balance. The trembling in his hand was getting worse. Without Arok's medicine, his nerves began to scream for a pause.Behind him, Niko trudged along, constantly pulling Elara's wrist. The architect girl walked like a living corpse. Her gaze was empty straight ahead, her mind still left on the surface with the little kid's ash-soiled shoe. She didn't care about the sewage soaking her boots."Ganda," Niko whispered, his voice echoing softly. "The map says this tunnel leads to the Northern Waste Reservoir. We are moving away from the border.""Quiet," Ganda hissed. "

The wind here made no sound.That was the first thing that pierced Ganda as they crossed the border of the Western Sector. Behind them, far on the eastern horizon, the faint rumble of Aurellian steam engines could still be heard. But ahead, the air pressure changed drastically. Their ears rang, as if they had just dived into extreme water depths.The sky above was pale gray, the color of an old bruise. No birds flew past. No insects. Even the gravel beneath their feet felt soft. The ground surrendered under the weight of their boots, leaving deep footprints like walking on wet chalk dough."This place is... empty," Niko whispered.The merchant pulled his filthy scarf over his nose. The logistics cart he pulled creaked softly. Every time its wooden wheels crushed a stone, the sound was too loud. Too naked.Ganda paused for a moment. He looked down, seeing a wild plant on the edge of the path.The plant was pitch black. Its leaves were stiff and sharp like shards of volcanic glass. Ganda

They didn't run. They slipped.The tunnel floor was no longer flat. Its incline changed drastically, diving sharply downward like an esophagus. The mud beneath their feet was slick with slime, making every step a gamble between standing or falling."Don't stop!" Ganda shouted. His voice broke amidst the rumble of the moving walls.Behind them, the hissing sound drew closer. Ssshhh... Like the sound of meat frying on a hot pan. The digestive acid was chasing them, dissolving the limestone into mush."My foot burns!" Niko screamed.The merchant limped. The sock on his left foot was torn, his bare sole bleeding from being scraped by sharp rocks.Sora wasted no time on sympathy. He grabbed the back collar of Niko's shirt, half dragging him, half throwing him forward."Run or dissolve!" Sora snapped.The tunnel ahead narrowed. The walls of flesh and stone contracted, trying to close off their airway. The exit hole was left

The map in Ganda's hand did not show the contours of pain.That red line only indicated distance. But to a body that was breaking down, a distance of five hundred meters on this rocky slope felt like a journey across hell.Ganda walked in front. His steps were no longer steady. His right shoulder twitched rhythmically, as if the muscles wanted to detach themselves from the bone. Cold sweat ran down his back, freezing instantly in the mountain wind.He hid his right hand inside his coat pocket, gripping the fabric so tightly his nails pierced the seams. The damaged nerve signals sent false messages to his brain. Hot. Cold. Burning. Stabbing.He needed that oil. He needed that silence."You are slowing down," Sora reprimanded from behind. His voice was sharp, cutting through the howling wind.Ganda tripped over a stone root. He almost fell, but caught himself with his left knee. His breathing was heavy."Finding my footing," Ganda lied.