The deeper they went, the colder the air became. It smelled faintly of rust, oil, and something else—something older. Machines hummed faintly in the distance, their power just a trickle of what it once was.
Jasmin led Norman to a large chamber with a massive, dormant server in the center. It was a relic from the time before the rise of the megacorporations—a machine built to store and process data from a different world. The walls were covered with old cables and terminals, all long gone dark, but still whispering remnants of forgotten codes.
Jasmin knelt by the server, connecting her wristband to a nearby terminal. The screen flickered, then came to life with a low hum. Lines of code flashed by in patterns Norman couldn't understand. He leaned in closer.
"This is where it all started," Jasmin muttered, her fingers tracing the screen. "The original system. The one the city was built on."
Suddenly, the screen blinked, and a line of text appeared:
"ACCESS CODE REQUIRED."
Jasmin cursed under her breath. She typed quickly, entering a sequence that Norman could barely follow. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the screen flared brightly, and a new message appeared.
"CODE ACCEPTED."
The server buzzed to life, and the lights flickered back on. But before either of them could react, a series of mechanical doors in the chamber slid open, revealing rows of blinking consoles and data hubs.
Jasmin's eyes widened. "This is it, Norman. This is what we've been looking for."
But Norman wasn't looking at the consoles. His attention had shifted to something far more urgent. Above them, on the ceiling, a strange mark glowed faintly—a symbol he hadn't seen before.
It was the same symbol from the green sky.