The corridor stretched long and silent, lit only by narrow strips of pale light running along the ceiling.
Beyond the reinforced window at the far end, the Arcology's outer shell opened to the endless black of space, scattered with distant stars that looked cold and indifferent.
Virgos sat on the metal bench beneath that window, elbows resting on his knees, staring out as if the universe itself might answer something for him.
He did not move when Roland's bare footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Roland emerged from the adjoining hall, his red shirt faintly illuminated under the sterile light, white hair falling carelessly around sharp yellow eyes. His presence carried weight even in silence.
He stopped a few paces behind Virgos, studying the stillness of the man's posture before speaking.
"Where is Agripha?"
Virgos exhaled slowly, though the breath sounded more like something corroding inside his chest than relief.
His voice came out low, strained, yet strangely composed.
"Agripha…" He paused, eyes still fixed on the stars beyond the glass.
"Agripha has stepped beyond the threshold where voices do not return. The road she walked has closed behind her, and the dust of the world no longer clings to her feet."
Roland's gaze hardened slightly.
Virgos leaned back against the wall, tilting his head upward. The reflection of the stars shimmered across his eyes.
"Perhaps she walks in a kinder sky now," he murmured.
"Perhaps somewhere beyond this broken world she finally breathes without the weight of war on her lungs."
His hands folded slowly together, fingers tightening as if grasping something invisible.
"If there are gods," Virgos continued quietly, "please... let them grant her peace. Let them give her the warmth this world never did."
The corridor remained silent for a long moment. Roland stepped forward until he stood beside the bench. His reflection appeared in the glass beside Virgos's.
"Gods do not hear, idiot." Roland said flatly. "They exists just to watch."
Virgos did not respond.
"They let the story unfold because suffering is interesting to them." Roland's voice remained calm, almost clinical. "Prayers are only words thrown into an empty sky."
Virgos clenched his jaw.
Roland glanced down at him with cold clarity. "And stop the drama."
Virgos slowly turned his head. Roland's expression did not soften. "Crying like a child will not change the condition of her corpse."
The words struck the air with brutal finality.
Virgos's eyes darkened, anger and grief colliding beneath the surface.
Roland continued, "Death is not noble. It is the termination of function. Agripha made her decisions. The consequences arrived just as it should."
He stepped away from the bench, hands folding behind his back.
"There is no use mourning what cannot stand again."
Virgos stared at the floor, breathing slowly, the storm in his chest contained but far from gone.
Roland looked once more toward the stars beyond the glass.
"The living have works to do." he said quietly. "The dead do not."
....
The corridor ended at a wide circular platform reinforced with heavy plating.
Massive artillery mechanisms surrounded the chamber, their long barrels aimed toward sealed blast ports in the Arcology's outer shell.
Consoles blinked with dormant energy, waiting for commands that had not been given in a long time.
Blyke whistled softly. "Well… this is comforting."
Arcee walked closer to one of the artillery frames, running her hand across the cold metal. "These are not defensive turrets. Look at the calibration arrays. They are designed for long-range dimensional targeting."
Cagaro studied a nearby console. "Which means they are not meant to destroy ships. They are meant to hit something that is not physically present here."
Henry stepped toward the center of the platform, observing the alignment of the barrels. "Pocket dimension anchors."
Caius looked at the weapons with quiet focus. "So this facility does not only store the civilians. It controls the dimension they are trapped in."
Blyke folded his arms. "Great. That means whoever runs this place can collapse that dimension whenever they want."
Arcee glanced at Henry. "So what is the move?"
Henry's gaze moved across the artillery controls, calculating. "We access the targeting data."
Blyke raised an eyebrow. "And?"
Henry answered calmly. "And we find exactly where they are keeping everyone."
Henry's eyes moved slowly across the artillery chamber.
The massive cannons stood silent in their reinforced cradles, control consoles humming faintly with residual power. Yet the room was empty.
"No guards." Blyke muttered, glancing around the platform. "Not even a drone."
Arcee frowned. "That makes no sense. This place looks important."
Cagaro leaned over a console, scanning the inactive interface. "Important is an understatement. This entire system is tied to dimensional calibration."
Henry remained still for a moment, observing the structure of the artillery frames.
Each turret was connected to a ring of conduits that fed into a central control node beneath the platform. The pattern resembled a ritual circle more than a weapons array.
"That is the problem," Henry said quietly.
Blyke looked at him. "What?"
"If this facility controls a pocket dimension," Henry replied, "then this room should be heavily guarded."
Caius spoke from the edge of the platform. "Unless they believe no one can reach it."
Henry's gaze sharpened... Or unless the room was not meant to be defended.
He stepped toward the main console, studying the targeting architecture. The coordinates were not planetary. They were spatial distortions mapped across several dimensional layers.
"These turrets may not be weapons," Henry said slowly. "They might be anchors."
Arcee tilted her head. "Anchors?"
Henry nodded faintly. "Something here manifests the portal that stabilizes the pocket dimension."
Blyke grimaced. "So we might be standing inside the machine that keeps that prison running."
"This setup… it's more than just any weapon." Henry said, tracing the conduits with his eyes. "Each turret seems to influence spatial fields. It could manifest or stabilize the pocket dimension."
Arcee tapped a control panel. "And whoever controls this room could manipulate the prisoners' environment without ever leaving here."
Cagaro nodded. "That explains why there were no guards. Whoever built this trusts the system more than manpower or they assume no one could bypass it."
Blyke leaned against a railing, rubbing his temples. "Great. So we're inside a machine designed to trap people in another dimension. No pressure, right?"
Caius stayed silent, eyes scanning the energy flows.
Henry's hands hovered over the main console.
"We need to confirm the coordinates before taking any action. One wrong input and—"
The warning never finished. A deafening explosion ripped through the chamber, sending shards of metal and sparks flying.
The floor shook violently, throwing everyone off balance. The massive artillery frames groaned as heat and fire surged along the conduits.
Arcee rolled, diving behind a fallen support beam. Blyke staggered, barely keeping hold of the railing.
Henry's eyes narrowed through the smoke and chaos. "Was that… sabotage?"
Cagaro coughed, "Or a trap we just triggered ourselves!?"
The once-imposing artillery chamber was now a storm of fire, twisted metal and chaos, the scale of destruction far beyond what any of them had anticipated.