The tunnels stretched into forever.
Maya's breath rasped in the back of her throat, every inhale a drag of cold metal air, every exhale too loud in the silence. She moved as quickly as her shaking legs allowed, eyes straining against the dark. The glow from Vector 3 had dimmed to almost nothing—just enough for her to keep from slamming into the walls.
Behind them, the scrape came again. Slow. Deliberate. Mocking.
Vector 5 wasn't rushing. It didn't need to.
Maya swallowed hard. "It knows we're here."
"Knows," Vector 3 confirmed, voice a hushed vibration. "But certainty low. Mask holding."
Her phone buzzed faintly, cracked screen flashing new text.
System:Vector 5 scanning. Host probability: 63%.
Probability. Not confirmation. Like a predator sniffing at shadows.
Kiran's voice flickered weakly through static. "Maya—don't—stop—keep moving—I'm trying—reroute—" His words frayed into static again, then vanished entirely.
She bit down on panic. The thought of losing his voice, the one tether to human sanity, nearly undid her. But stopping wasn't an option.
They passed through another abandoned platform, this one littered with old maintenance tools, rust flaking off every surface. The scrape behind them grew louder, closer. Maya's lungs screamed for rest, but she forced her legs forward.
Vector 3 extended an arm, gesturing left toward a service tunnel barely wide enough for a person. "Concealment path."
Maya squeezed into the narrow corridor, the damp concrete brushing her shoulders. Vector 3 followed, folding its form to fit, its glow dampening further.
The scrape stopped.
Maya froze, chest tight. Silence poured into the tunnel, heavier than any sound. Her heart hammered so loudly she thought it would echo.
Then: a new sound. Tap. Tap. Tap.
She closed her eyes. "It's playing with us."
"Predatory behavior," Vector 3 agreed softly.
Her phone buzzed.
System:Vector 5 probability: 81%. Intake preparation beginning.
"No—no, no, no—" She pressed her palm over her mouth, biting back a sob.
Vector 3 moved closer, its pale eyes dim but steady. "Host. Quiet."
The tapping grew louder, then shifted into the screech of metal being dragged across stone. The walls vibrated with it.
Maya clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. Don't move. Don't breathe.
The screech passed. The light of Vector 5—harsh, surgical—swept across the far end of the platform like a searchlight, spilling into the service tunnel. Maya pressed herself flat against the wall, every muscle screaming.
The glow lingered, burning against her closed eyelids. She didn't dare open them.
Then it moved on.
Her phone buzzed.
System:Vector 5 probability: 49%. Target lost.
Her knees buckled with relief. She sagged against the wall, covering her face with trembling hands.
But Vector 3 didn't relax. It turned its head sharply, pale eyes flickering. "Scan cycle will repeat. We must reposition."
Maya forced herself upright, legs shaky. "Where?"
The figure pointed deeper down the service tunnel. "Secondary exit. Utility shafts."
They moved again, steps muffled, breaths shallow. The tunnel narrowed further, forcing Maya to stoop. Rust flakes rained down with every touch.
Another scrape echoed—closer this time.
System:Vector 5 probability: 72%.
Maya's throat closed. It was narrowing in again. Hunting. Smelling her fear.
"Vector 3," she whispered. "If it finds us—what then?"
The figure's pale eyes glowed faintly. "Then I fight."
She stared at it, at the sentinel she had once feared. Now it was her only shield. "Can you win?"
A pause. "Uncertain."
Her stomach knotted.
They crawled deeper into the service shaft. The ceiling dripped onto her neck, cold as ice. The scrape echoed louder—too close now, almost above them.
Her phone buzzed violently.
System:Vector 5 proximity: 00:00:20.Intake Protocol activating.
Her breath stuttered. Twenty seconds.
Vector 3 stopped suddenly, placing an arm in front of her. "Quiet."
She froze.
From above, dust drifted down, disturbed by something massive moving across the tunnel ceiling. She tilted her head up, just enough to glimpse through a grate.
White-blue light poured through the slats.
Vector 5.
Its shape was monstrous up close—too tall for the tunnel, limbs folding unnaturally, scraping sparks from the ceiling. The glow from its core burned like a scalpel, precise and merciless.
It paused above them. The grate rattled under its weight.
Maya clamped both hands over her mouth, praying her shaking breath wouldn't betray her. Vector 3 stood perfectly still, eyes darkened to slits.
Seconds dragged. Her phone buzzed one last time.
System:Vector 5 probability: 98%.
The grate screamed as claws hooked through, tearing metal like paper.
Maya's body reacted before her mind. She bolted, shoving past Vector 3 into the shaft's darkness. Behind her, metal shrieked and the tunnel erupted in blinding light.