"Stop looking at the light!" Bayu snarled, lunging forward to clamp a hand over Galang’s shoulder. He shoved him away from the pulsing violet veins that webbed the tunnel wall."It’s not just light, Bayu," Galang wheezed, stumbling back into the muck. He didn't regain his balance, sliding until his back hit the cold iron of a drainage grate. His eyes remained fixed on the glowing fissures, his expression vacant, almost peaceful. "It’s a rhythm. Can’t you hear it? It’s counting. Every pulse is a heartbeat—a stolen one."Bayu’s own tether flared at the base of his neck, a sharp, stinging sensation like a needle digging into his spine. He grit his teeth, forcing his own perception to blur. He had to keep them both anchored. "It’s a hallucination, Galang. The sewer gas, the tether-sickness—it’s playing tricks on your head. We keep moving.""Tricks?" Galang let out a dry, hacking laugh that quickly devolved into a wet cough. He wiped his mouth, his sleeve coming away stained with a dark, v

"The heart of a machine, Galang, or a cage for the living," Bayu muttered, his voice barely audible over the low-frequency hum vibrating through the soles of his boots. He stepped over a rusted pipe, his shadow flickering unnaturally against the curved, slime-slicked walls. "Keep your mind off the rhythm. If you start listening to it, you’re already halfway to the drain."Galang stumbled again, his shoulder slamming into the corroded ironwork of a junction box. The metal groaned in protest, a screech of friction that felt like a needle scraped across Bayu’s teeth. "You think I want to listen? It’s not a sound, you idiot. It’s a weight. It’s pressing against the back of my eyes.""Then close them," Bayu commanded, grabbing Galang by his collar and hauling him upright. The proximity sent a shockwave of tether-sickness through Bayu’s own spine—a stinging, violet heat that tasted like copper and old ozone. He choked back a gasp, his grip tightening. "We are two hundred feet below the sect

"If we aren't dead already," Galang muttered, clutching his chest. The violet veins on his neck were throbbing, a rhythmic, pulsing light that betrayed his failing control. He leaned heavily against a weeping pipe, his breath rattling in his lungs. "Look at the floor, Bayu. It’s not just sludge. It’s runoff. It’s the waste of whatever they're burning to keep the lights on above."Bayu didn’t look. He couldn't afford to. He kept his eyes locked on the vertical shaft ahead, the iron rungs slick with toxic condensation. "Move, Galang. The resonance is shifting. If the gate cycles again, we’re going to be shredded by the pressure differential.""Wait," Galang hissed, pulling his hand away from the wall. His fingertips were blackened, charred as if he’d touched a live wire. "Do you hear that? Beyond the hum. That’s not machinery."Bayu stopped. He pressed his ear against the cold, vibrating metal of the conduit wall. Beneath the low, thrumming vibration of the city’s power grid—a sound tha

"I didn't say you were a liability," Bayu whispered, his voice like the grinding of dry shale. "I said stay low. There's a difference between being a burden and being a target, and right now, we’re the only thing the Sultan’s dogs are looking for."Galang pulled his cloak tighter, the fabric soaked through with the city’s foul, metallic-smelling condensation. "Targets? We’re more like loose threads in a tapestry they’re desperate to burn. You think Alaric and Draven even made it to the junction? Or are we just walking into a trap set for ghosts?""Alaric doesn't walk into traps," Bayu said, though his grip on his blade tightened until his knuckles turned white. "He builds them. Now, shut your mouth. The sound is moving closer."The scraping noise—that rhythmic, wet drag—intensified. It echoed through the vaulted expanse of the sub-drain, vibrating up through the soles of their boots. Ahead, the corridor split, the dark, oil-slicked water swirling around a central junction pylon that p

"Kaelen?" Bayu’s blade faltered, the tip drooping just an inch. The man standing before them wasn't the mentor who had taught them the secrets of the blade; he was a shell of bone and shadow, his eyes reflecting the flickering, dying violet light of the tether-conduit he held like a holy relic."Don't call me that," Kaelen snapped, his voice rasping like a file against iron. Behind him, Alaric stepped into the dim glow, his face bruised and his breathing ragged. Draven followed, clutching his side where a dark, viscous stain bloomed across his tunic."Bayu, move," Alaric whispered, his eyes wide and pleading. "He’s not here to kill us. He’s here to reset the drain. If he doesn't, this entire sector collapses, and we go with it.""He’s a pawn of the Sultan," Galang spat, his voice cracking as another violet spasm jolted his frame. The light beneath his skin flared, throwing long, jagged shadows against the wet walls. "He’s part of the machine. Look at him, Alaric! He’s soaked in the sa