The smell of burnt insulation and bitter salve—that was all that remained of yesterday's "victory." I lay on the cot, staring at my bandaged hands. My fingers felt like someone else's. Well, it wasn't surprising, really. "Will to Live" had literally reassembled my tissues under conditions where they should have vaporized.
Zeno sat in the corner, checking his gear.
"They'll be here in an hour," he said without turning around. "Richter isn't the type to give you time to recover. To him, you're a battery with limitless capacity."
"A battery?" I rasped, trying to sit up. "I've heard a lot of things about myself, but first and foremost, I'm an engineer."
I forced my legs down to the floor. My head spun violently.
We couldn't just walk out through the main airlock; the Order controlled every lift. But the Lower Horizon had one distinct advantage: its technical drains.
Entry Point: Drainage shaft of the third cooling circuit.
Problem: The hydraulic seal is locked by magnetic clamps.
Solution: Induce local resonance in the distributor to trigger an automatic emergency flush.
"Zeno, I need to get to Gil's console. Just for three minutes," I muttered, gripping the edge of the bed to suppress a wave of nausea.
"You can barely stand, Iron."
"Then drag me."
We almost made it. Gil's workshop was completely empty—he was probably out on another inspection. I collapsed onto the terminal, my trembling fingers dancing across the keys inside their bloodied bandages. My brain worked in erratic bursts, pulling fragments of schematics from memory.
System Log:
CRITICAL FAILURE: Overload detected in Sector 4-B.
Action: Opening emergency flush valves...
"Freeze!" Richter's voice lashed through my nerves.
He stood in the doorway, flanked by two guards. In his hands, he held that very same recording crystal.
"I am disappointed, Zeno. You are trying to break a tool that has just proven its invaluable utility. Iron, step away from the console. A new stage awaits you."
Instead of stepping back, I entered the final command sequence.
"Richter," I said, turning to face him. "'Will to Live' isn't a gift. It's a curse. And right now, you're about to understand exactly why."
I touched the exposed cable of the distributor.
The raw energy of the Lower Horizon flooded into the drainage system, instantly blowing out the magnetic locks and overloading the Order's defensive shields.
"Run!" Zeno yelled, grabbing me under the arms.
We plunged into the darkness of the drainage pipe a split second before the entire workshop blew apart. Cold, chemical-laden water instantly soaked through my bandages, triggering an agonizing sting.
After half an hour of fighting the heavy current, we dragged ourselves out onto the surface. I lay on the wet grass, staring blindly up at the gray sky. Zeno sank down heavily beside me, his face pale.
"Never again," he finally said, his voice strained. "Never use yourself as a conduit, do you hear me?"
"But we made it out," I said, looking down at my hands. The bandages had been ripped away by the torrent, leaving my skin a deep crimson and covered in tiny fractures.
"You don't understand, Iron," Zeno said wearily. "Before, the Order was merely interested in you... but now, you're a threat to them."
I closed my eyes. "Will to Live" pulsed faintly, burning through the last remaining traces of glucose in my bloodstream.
And one single thought kept circling in my mind: Why did all of this even start? If only I could have acted differently back then...
Three days ago...
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