A curtain of rain intermittently poured, cutting the night like a blade. Bolts of lightning revealed the once glorious iron door consumed by rust, now overgrown and half swallowed by weeds marking the entrance to Zone Four's underground sector. Concrete graffiti decorated the wall mercilessly, some of them looking like warnings while others seemed like desperate hope. One mark stood out. A crimson fang perpetually biting through a crescent moon.
A constant hum filled the air as Layla stepped off the hoverbike. It was tiresome, but the rain using all the energy to drag the codex felt lighter for her. Boots squelching on the previously wet pavement, her cape hugging her and perfect weatherproof wrap tightly bringing the attache ward safe and sound allowed her to step forward. It was never easy. Every crossbound felt a gentle pull due to the ethereal $link&distance frost$she was fighting against.
"Here we are," Aidan stated while nodding to the marked bulkhead. "This is the last known location of your uncle before he went off the grid."
Layla assessed the ancient access panel. Its flickering green light looked feeble. "And if he's not in there?"
"Then we keep looking," Aidan replied. "But if the rumours are correct, Harun built a sanctuary here—hidden, off grid. No one gets in unless he permits it."
"I highly doubt he ever wanted to be forgotten."
Aidan shrugged. "Then we give him a reason to remember why he vanished in the first place."
With an exhale, she typed a code her father forced her to memorise years ago. To most, it was a meaningless string of numbers, but to her family, it was sacred. A single beep echoed from the panel. Then, silence.
With every cyclic second, the noise floor remained untouched.
As a result, Layla stepped back.
A deep mechanical groan reverberated through the ground as it vibrated. The rusted door parted like a stubborn flower, revealing a dark, spiralling stairwell that descends into the infinite shadow. Warm air escaped like a breath from something ancient, long dormant—exhaling the warmth of an age-old slumber.
Unsheathing a dagger that hung from his belt, Aidan prepared himself not as a threat, but simply 'just in case'.
As for Layla, she pulled her scarf up to her mouth and prepared to step into the building.
The walls constricted and narrowed with each step. A flickering blue light lined the narrow stairwell, some of which dimly shone. Old signs in English and Bahasa were civil defence codes, probably from the previous regime, long forgotten, guiding one down. The air was filled with the scent of rust, oil, and decay.
At the bottom, another door could be seen waiting, round and purely steel. Not a single panel or handle could be seen on it.
Raising her fist, Layla knocked in a rhythm consisting of three short and one long, a secret her father taught her known only to her family.
Silence.
Then — the sound of compressed air hissing.
A voice deep yet cautious spoke, "Enter... if you're still blood."
Her breath caught.
She recognised that voice. It was rougher now, older, but still familiar.
"Uncle Harun?" she called.
The door creaked open revealing a tall bearded man wrapped in shadow, rifle dangling from his arms. Streaks of grey filled his beard while his eyes remained sharp as knives.
"You brought trouble with you, Layla," he whispered. "I can smell it on you."
"I brought the codex," she replied.
He stiffened.
"...what?"
"I found it, father left it for me. Kamal is looking for it."
Aidan stood up from his seat slightly tilting his head into the 'A' stance and positioning his hand in front of his chin, curious about whatever Harun's reasoning might have been for his actions. From a distance, all that could be seen was Harun's crossed arms, fingers soothingly rubbing one another and harshly twitching with each pass of breath. He paced aggressively, shooting shallow glances toward Harun and Layla, clearly annoyed with the conversation.
"I haven't seen your girl in weeks, does she even care about CQC these days? Or do we all need to keep watch for another Kobayashi armada? And we thought women would one day stop ruining what used to be the best time of my life."
Layla shrugged Aidan's grip gently and followed her eyes. Harun was still standing behind the one-sided opaque glass allowing those outside to see blurry silhouettes but them almost nothing in return.
"Focus."
Again she turned pretending as if nothing happened. Then headed towards the library leaving Aidan and Harun in their stubborn stand-off.
"Are you in? Willing to help?"
"At this point returning to the void can be risky, but help sounds nice how could you actually end it? The dramatic showdown, the world-ending moment? We'll put on nice suits and blast doom pop music in the background."
Harun actually named his price as a joke.
Unlike anything encountered in the literal sense. Forgotten shelves of ancient books, scrolls, and even digital tablets filled this space. Old coordinates and fractured feeds still flickered on old tech screens, showcasing forgotten surveillance tear streams.
Everywhere, there were traces of Kamal's name.
"He's rewriting our lineage," Harun said, pointing toward the digital bloodline map. "He's attempting to fabricate history — a lie to himself as the rightful legacy heir."
"That's erasing us," Layla's stomach twisted. "Factitious versions."
"No, replacing us," Harun argued.
Deep within the city's core, a vibrant map illuminated with pulsating nodes.
"Bunkers aren't the only thing here. Vaults exist that safeguard relics pre-Fall. Ancestors crafted machines bound by blood seals, to only awaken for a true heir."
A cold chill accompanied each word.
"Old war-tech," Aidan whispered. "Biotech. Myth and metal."
Harun replied, "Unlike myself to report, turns out the rumours were true. Long-forgotten beings possessed."
"It relied upon a key; Kamal getting closer slashes his chances, but your codex grants him that."
Suddenly, saying she had just a book, a canonic symbol was disingenuous. The weight she felt was something else entirely.
Letting words escape lucidly, "So what do I do?"
"We fight," Harun said as plain as day. "But not like before. We awaken the legacy. We remind Kamal, and the world, who the real heir is."
Harun moving closer and staring at Layla's face with eye contact so inten
se it could set things ablaze.
"You, Layla. You are the last true heiress."
To be continued...