thicken — as if the metro tunnels were slowly swallowing them whole. The faint hum of dying electricity flickered along broken light fixtures overhead, casting jittering shadows that crawled across the walls like insects.
Netoshka led Team B down the rail line, her flashlight slicing through the black. Taran walked at her flank, rifle raised, while the others followed in staggered formation. Their boots crunched through shattered glass, peeling tile, and the soft remains of things long dead.
Every step echoed in endless repetition.
Every echo sounded wrong.
The Station Map --
They reached a rust-eaten kiosk displaying a station map. Genrihk stepped forward, brushing dust from the faded glass.
"Sector 09… this line used to lead to six more stations." He traced a finger along the routes.
"But the lower tunnels collapse around Station 12. That detour will force us through the service passages."
Rue crouched beside him, checking her handheld device.
"If the signal's correct, Lucretia's base lies beneath Station 14. That means we pass through 10, 11, 12… then cut through the auxiliary shaft here." She tapped the map.
"Through the dark zone," Zev muttered. "Great."
Netoshka didn't look back.
"We keep moving."
The Sound
A voice echoed far ahead.
Not words — just a sound:
metal bending. scraping. dragging.
Twila froze. "Did… anyone hear that?"
Taran raised his weapon. "Probably a train collapsing."
"No," Genrihk murmured. His runes flickered a sickly green. "Something is moving."
The sound came again.
Closer.
Netoshka swept her beam across the tracks — nothing but darkness stretching endlessly forward.
"Stay tight," she whispered.
They pressed on. With every step, the dragging sound grew louder… then stopped completely.
Silence.
Too much silence.
Even the rats had vanished.
The Abandoned Train --
They arrived at a massive, derailed train lying sideways across the tunnel. The steel body was twisted, crushed as if something enormous had wrapped around it and squeezed.
Zopi sighed.
"We can crawl under it. But it'll be tight."
They dropped to their knees, squeezing beneath the wreckage. Dust and rust showered onto their backs. Rue's small frame slipped through first with ease. Surgien cursed as his backpack snagged on a jagged pipe.
Midway through, Netoshka paused.
Someone was breathing near her ear.
Slow, animalistic, guttural.
She turned sharply—
nothing.
Just shadows.
Her heartbeat quickened.
The Footprints --
On the other side of the wreckage, they stood up and shined their beams ahead.
Cirke stopped suddenly, voice trembling.
"…Everyone look at the ground."
Footprints covered the dust.
Not human — too elongated, too deep.
And there were dozens of them.
"Whatever made these," Taran whispered, "they're fresh."
Rue swallowed hard. "How fresh?"
Netoshka crouched, touching the print. The dust around it was still shifting as if recently disturbed.
"Minutes," she said. "Maybe less."
Suddenly, all the lights along the tunnel flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then every bulb exploded in a rain of sparks.
Darkness swallowed the tunnel whole.
Twila gasped. "Neto, something's—"
The Blue Glow --
A faint light appeared far down the tunnel.
Blue.
Soft.
Pulsing.
Almost… alive.
The same energy that sometimes flickered behind Netoshka's eyes, the same unnatural glow she saw in her nightmares.
The group instinctively stepped back.
"What the hell is that?" Zev murmured.
The blue glow brightened — illuminating a silhouette behind it.
A figure.
Human-shaped.
Moving toward them with slow, jerking motions.
Netoshka's breath hitched.
"That's impossible…"
The silhouette stepped forward, and for a moment she saw a glimpse of a decaying corpse walking towards them, so she grabbed her rifle, pointing at the target in her sights.
Taran swore. "Neto—"
"I see it."
The corpse-thing stepped onto the tracks, head twitching like a broken puppet.
"—Netoshka…" it gurgled.
Her name.
It growled and shrieked in a freighting manner
Twila screamed and stumbled back.
Netoshka didn't move.
Her flashlight lowered.
Her breathing slowed.
But her eyes ignited with that same blue energy.
"Everyone," she said quietly, trembling with rage and fear,
"behind me."
The Train That Shouldn't Move --
Far behind the corpse, another sound began echoing through the tunnel.
A low, rumbling groan.
Metal grinding.
Engines coughing awake.
Zev's face went pale. "No. That's—"
The derailed train behind them — the one they crawled under —
moved.
Just an inch.
Then more.
The steel body screeched as something beneath it pushed.
Lifted.
Shifted.
Rue panicked. "We're trapped—"
Netoshka stepped forward.
Her voice was cold.
"Circle formation. Prepare for engagement."
The corpse staggered closer, whispering her name.
The train shuddered violently again, rising as if something massive was crawling out from under it.
The blue glow brightened.
The tunnel throbbed like a heartbeat.
Netoshka drew her rifle.
"guess the party is starting, Welcome to hell," she whispered.