We were in the Hive, wading ankle-deep through some kind of oily sludge. I hung heavily on Ephraim’s shoulder, moving my feet purely on autopilot. The effects of the "blue jelly" were finally wearing off.
The old man was breathing heavily, wheezing with every exhale.
"Another two hundred meters to the collector conduit," he grunted. "We'll lose them there."
Tira walked ahead, sweeping the beam of a dim flashlight. Zeno brought up the rear. His chassis was noticeably warped after the bout with the Centurion, and his left leg emitted a nasty metallic screech with every step.
We rounded a corner and ran straight into a blast door with peeling paint and an inscription that read Sector C-4. Tira had already pulled out her decoder pick.
"Hold on," she muttered, jacking into the lock. "Three seconds."
The door didn't open. Instead, a harsh white glare suddenly flooded the corridor.
Ten meters ahead, right in the center of the passageway, stood a man. A snow-white tunic, perfectly pressed trousers, and polished boots that looked completely untouched by the filth. He stood with his hands laced behind his back, staring intently at us.
"Valerius," Ephraim said.
"Long time no see," he said.
Zeno jerked, raising his barrel, but Valerius merely snapped his fingers. An invisible wave slammed Zeno violently into the wall.
"Grav-module," Tira stated, taking a step back. "Fourth gen. We're screwed."
"You look terrible, Ephraim," he remarked. "Years on the run don't suit you. And you, Iron..." He shifted his gaze to me. "...you’ve become much more interesting. After I let you escape, everything became so dull."
"What do you want?" I asked.
"To finish what I started." Valerius stopped three paces from us. "I almost had you back then. Remember? Your adaptation to the implants, your survival rate... I’m taking you back with me."
"I’m not an object," I said, clenching my fist.
"You are an asset. A damaged but valuable asset. As for your friends..." He glanced at Ephraim and Tira with sheer disgust. "They are merely collateral damage."
He raised his hand, palm up. The air around us instantly thickened. A violent spike in pressure slammed into my ears, pinning me to the floor. Ephraim fell to his knees, coughing up blood. Tira was literally plastered against the door, unable to move a muscle.
"Resistance is futile, Iron. You know that as well as I do."
I looked at Tira. She caught my eye and silently mouthed a single word: "Pipe." She flicked her eyes upward, toward a thick, rusted pipe running directly over Valerius's head. It bore a faded warning label: CAUTION. HIGH PRESSURE. STEAM.
Valerius took a step toward me.
"Get up. We’re going home."
I fumbled blindly along Ephraim’s belt and scraped my fingers against the heavy pipe wrench the old man always carried around.
"Go to hell," I snarled, hurling the wrench with everything I had left.
The wrench clanged against the rusted metal.
Valerius laughed.
"Seriously? A wrench?"
But at that exact split second, Zeno—who had been lying in a heap of debris while rebooting his systems—raised his arm.
A single shot.
The bullet hit the exact spot where the wrench had struck, and the pipe ruptured.
A jet of superheated steam mixed with filthy water blasted downward, instantly swallowing Valerius in a scalding cloud. The pressure pinning us to the floor vanished.
"Into the hatch! Move!" Ephraim roared, grabbing me by the scruff of my neck.
Tira had already managed to kick open the lock on the floor hatch. Without looking back, we dropped into the darkness one after another. We hurtled downward, slamming hard against the slick walls of the drop shaft.
We emerged into a sump tank, some fifty meters below the level of the Hive. It was dark and quiet here, save for the water lapping against the concrete walls.
Ephraim hauled me onto a dry platform. Zeno climbed out behind us, black gunk draining from his battered chassis.
"We lost them..." Tira breathed, brushing wet hair from her face with trembling fingers.
"Not for long," Ephraim said grimly, spitting blood into the water. "The fact that he pronounced your name, kid, means only one thing..."
"Damn it... Of all the times for that bastard to show up," I whispered.
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