The decision was a strange and terrible relief. The oppressive weight of the siege was replaced by the sharp, cold clarity of a single, desperate purpose: escape.
"Pack it up!" Chloe's voice was a sharp command. She was no longer just a project manager; she was a logistics officer in a tactical retreat. "Everything we can carry. Food, water, medical. Ben, what you can't carry, strip for parts."
The small island of light became a hive of frantic activity. The fear was still there, a palpable, vibrating thing, but now it was honed into a tool for survival.
Ben was a whirlwind, disassembling his makeshift base, handing out charged phones and battery packs. The brilliant floodlight, their artificial sun, was too big to take. With a look of genuine regret, he disconnected it, and their world was swallowed by darkness, leaving only their feeble phone beams and the soft, ethereal glow of the Core.
"I've downloaded the schematics," he said, tapping his tablet. "The tunnel maps, the city grid… it's all here. But once we leave the building's network range, we'll be blind."
"We'll be gone," Maya countered. She was at the edge of the darkness, her senses straining. The pounding from the fifth floor had stopped. A new, more terrifying quiet. The quiet of a predator padding softly down the stairs.
"How much time?" Leo asked.
Maya didn't turn. "Not enough."
It was a motley, desperate procession that left the catwalk. Sixteen souls plunged into an echoing, absolute dark. Maya took point. Arthur was right behind her, whispering a constant stream of low-probability warnings. "Fourteen percent chance of structural instability on the left wall ahead. Stay right." Chloe and Ben herded the group. Leo took the rear, walking backwards, half-expecting to see a thousand pairs of hateful red eyes ignite in the black.
The tunnel was a different world here. The quiet was heavier, the darkness more profound. The air was colder, tasting of damp earth and old, sleeping metal. A place forgotten by the System. It felt… safe.
They walked for what felt like an eternity. Time had lost all meaning. Then, the tunnel began to change. The narrow catwalk widened, the walls receding, the ceiling disappearing into the darkness above. The air grew colder still, and the rhythmic dripping was joined by a slow, gurgling current.
"We're here," Ben breathed. He pointed his light downward. They were on a wide, concrete platform. Below them, nestled between two sets of rusted, silent tracks, was a river of black, sluggish water. The main subway line.
They had made it. They were out. A wave of relief, so potent it was dizzying, washed over the group. A woman began to sob, a raw, ragged sound.
But Maya was already moving. "This is not a sanctuary," she warned. "It's just a bigger cage. Keep moving."
"Which way?" Chloe asked, looking down the two dark, identical tunnels.
Ben was at his tablet. "The schematics show this line runs south, towards the old financial district. A major transit hub."
"And more potential threats," Arthur murmured. "The probability of this area remaining unoccupied for long is… low."
As if to prove his point, a new sound echoed from the tunnel behind them. Not a chitter or a roar. A low, guttural, barking sound. A hunting cry.
Leo's chest tightened. He spun around, his light piercing the darkness. He saw them. Two of them, framed in the tunnel entrance. They were canine, but horribly twisted. The size of wolves, with mottled, hairless green skin and powerful, corded muscles. Their eyes glowed with a faint, malevolent red light, their jaws too large for their skulls, filled with needle-like teeth.
[System Hound Lv. 6]
Trackers. The System had sent hunting dogs. The Hounds let out another series of sharp, barking cries. They had their scent.
"They followed us," Chloe breathed.
"Run," Maya commanded, her voice a low, urgent snarl.
It was a desperate, panicked flight. The barking was getting closer, a terrifying, relentless sound that promised a bloody, violent death. Leo was at the rear, his light trained on the two hounds as they bounded onto the platform, their movements unnervingly fast. He knew Maya couldn't fight them both, not while protecting the others. He had to do something.
He scanned the environment. Rusted tracks. Sluggish water. Concrete platform. He looked up. A massive, rusted steel support beam ran along the ceiling, directly over the tracks.
Object: Steel Support Beam, I-Class
[Structural_Integrity: 45/100]
[Status: Critical (Corrosion)]
Another bug in the old world's system. He could bring it down. Block the tunnel. But the cost… a physical edit of that magnitude… it would be worse than the golem, worse than the network hack. It might kill him.
He looked ahead at the fleeing survivors, at the small, fragile community he had sworn to protect. He saw Maya, a lone, defiant guardian, turning to face the impossible odds. He wasn't the man who reset passwords anymore.
He turned to face the oncoming Hounds, their red eyes burning in the darkness. He braced himself against the wall.
"Arthur!" he yelled, his voice echoing. "What are the odds?!"
He didn't wait for an answer. He closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and poured every last ounce of his will into a single, defiant command to the System that had broken his world.
Delete.