A Chilling Descent

Dusk had spent some time thinking about how best to obtain food and water supplies. Obtaining water was even easier than expected, Quill had already prepared some containers that could hold a few days worth of water; and apparently no one bothered to check how much water you decided to take.

Food wasn't as easy. Even though its production was automated, all food collection was monitored. Specifically designed so that everyone received the exact amount they needed, and never anything more. There were even scientist guards on duty to maintain this. Thankfully Dusk knew of a solution, but this didn't mean it was an easy one.

She droned behind her nearest food zone, her boots tracing a haphazard circle in the dust. The dimly lit hallway offered no comfort. Only the metallic tang of recycled air and the occasional low hum of distant machinery. She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them, debating for the hundredth time whether she really needed to do this. 

For whatever reason the structures built by the scientists had always scared her, the reactor, their lab and the various food zones scattered around Thermoa. She muttered under her breath, chastising herself. "All you need to do is crawl through a vent, grab some food and leave... easy." With a reluctant sigh, she steeled herself, glanced over her shoulder, and climbed into the vent.

Dusk felt the cold bite of the metal vent beneath her palms as she moved, her body coiled and tense. The narrow space was suffused with the purr of distant machinery, and the faint echoes of her movements seemed magnified in the confined space. She hadn’t ever planned on sneaking into a food zone; yet here she was, crawling through the labyrinthine guts of Thermoa.

Her fearful thoughts continued to dance around her head. Dusk began to wonder, why did she feel the need to hide. No one had ever explicitly told her that taking more than her allotted portion of food was wrong. Beyond the guards keeping watch, there was nothing to say you couldn't do it. It was just how things were. Everyone took what they were given and nothing more. The thought lingered uncomfortably in her mind.

This feeling had graced her before, and she'd never forgotten it. Memories surfaced of her childhood schooling, sitting amongst other clueless children under the stark fluorescent lights of the scientists’ makeshift classrooms. The lessons had been sparse and clinical, as though teaching was a secondary task to their real work. 

They had taught them about Earth’s surface, the beauty of nature and its inhabitants, the nuclear devastation that destroyed everything, and the history of humanity’s retreat underground. But beyond that? Nothing, no advanced knowledge, no useful skills, and not even literacy—though the cool whisper of Dusk's thoughts had quietly learned to piece together some words by sneaking glances at discarded scientific notes.

She thought back to when the scientists checked them all for Blessings; always marking down results with perfunctory nods, offering little more than curt congratulations. They had always kept their distance, a separate caste that operated by their own unspoken rules. Maybe that’s where the idea of “right” and “wrong” had formed in her—as they silently judged with each and every interaction. Yet they were never unkind, simply keeping to themselves as the worked tirelessly alone. 

Beyond their fantastical gadgets and sterile labs, they lived the same life as everyone else. Albeit, in such a manner that Dusk questioned if they had ever once felt joy. It made her wonder. Why were they so lifeless, why did they take so many burdens upon themselves, what thoughts haunted their dreams.

§

At last, Dusk emerged from the duct into the cavernous expanse of the food distrubution zone. The cool metal grating of a narrow walkway met her palms, and she peered down into the seemingly endless drop below. Flickering lights cast long shadows across an unintelligible mess of pipes and conveyor belts. The pulse of the reactor was ever-present, a deep, resonating comfort that lent the space a strange vitality.

She'd found the path some time ago as a child, back when she was still exploring about the lower areas of Thermoa. It had terrified her, an unsuspecting vent leading to a chamber that exuded pure terror. The Abyss yawned on either side of the path, its depths swallowing the weak light. It ate away at anything unfortunate enough to fall. Dusk could see the countless conveyor belts snaking through the air, some still dutifully carrying the fibre-packed meals that fed Thermoa’s population. Others were broken, dangling uselessly in the stale air. One misstep and the darkness would consume them both.

Dusk turned towards a structure that she believed to be Thermoa. A massive metallic cocoon suspended in the air, its curved, interlocking plates glinting faintly under the glow of artificial lights. Jagged rock and packed earth lay above, rooting the city in place; a layer of crust sealing it from a sky it would never see. 

Below, there was only darkness, an endless chasm where no bottom could be discerned. Only the reactor pulsed with its steady blue light, seeping through cracks and seams of the structure like veins of life. The glow ebbed and flowed softly, a rhythmic heartbeat against the oppressive void, casting eerie reflections onto the cavern walls. The entire city seemed to cling desperately to its precarious perch, a fragile marvel defying the emptiness beneath it.

Looking back to the conveyors, Dusk was confused. Many of the belts vanished into the darkness or to places that made no sense—conveyors feeding away from the main hub of Thermoa or trailing even deeper into the depths. Alongside them, pipes wove through the space, carrying water to and from unknown destinations.

Dusk moved cautiously, following the narrow walkways, jumping across gaps where the grating had rusted away. She had to get close enough to a conveyer to steal the food off it, it would be easy enough if they came even remotely close to the main path. This was of course, not the case. She wondered how the scientists had even built this place, it wasn't exactly safe.

Eventually Dusk found what she needed, a large water pipe trailing over to a belt filled with food. She climbed down onto it, treating each step like they were most important actions in her life. She briefly contemplated going back to get one of Quill's tools to help, but didn't fancy a repeat trip. Instead she paused, giving herself time to breathe, and then, carefully tiptoed forward. With each slow and cautious step. She drew closer, and closer. Until she reached her destination.

Dusk quickly filled her bag with the rations, making sure to bring an excess. As she packed it shut, she allowed herself a brief moment of triumph—yet it wasn't over. She looked back to the metal path, a seemingly massive stretch between her and safety. Once again, she treated each step with slow precision. Creeping her way along the pipe, careful not to trip on her own feet. Then without a moments hesitation, she lifted herself back onto the safety of the path; but a groaning creak beneath her hands sent her heart lurching. 

She fell.

Dusk clawed desperately at the empty space, her hands flailing around her in desperate swipes, but nothing caught. For a moment she felt the darkness envelop her, though fate had other plans. Pain shot through her side as she slammed into a large water pipe, disorienting her as she hung precariously over the Abyss.

Her hands clung to the pipe as her breath came in shallow gasps, pain radiating from her hip. She tried to steady herself, but the void below her pulled at her senses like a living entity. Her vision blurred, the edges of the pipe wavering as though melting into the Abyss. The low hum of the machinery distorted into a guttural growl, growing louder, louder, screeching in her head.

The Abyss shifted, taking on shapes—tangled limbs, hollow faces with empty eyes, mouths stretching open in silent screams. It called to her in whispers that reverberated through her body, each word clawing at her thoughts. They grabbed hold.

Dusk’s grip faltered as tears welled in her eyes. She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, grounding herself in the sting. Her knuckles whitened on the metal, keeping her from sliding further down. Each passing second whipped at her arms. Each breath stifling its way out as a ragged whisper. Each tear scarring the fear into her face. She called out, but the darkness had stolen her voice. Raw and unrelenting, it dragged her down.

She dove deeper into her thoughts, beyond the fear, beyond the darkness and towards the light. A faint blue glow pierced through, its steady light cutting through the pain. The cool glow swirled, drawing her gaze, and in her desperation, she focused on it. It reminded her of Pearl’s eyes—a beacon of calm amidst chaos. The phantoms of the Abyss faded, their whispers retreating, anchored by the blue glow.

The warmth of adrenaline pushed her forward, step by trembling step. Her hands scrambled for grip on the slick pipe, and her muscles burned with the effort of pulling herself along. She jumped to a nearby conveyor belt, before the darkness pulled her back. Then to another, and another, slowly ascending back toward the pathway.

When she finally hoisted herself onto stable ground, she collapsed, her chest heaving. The Abyss’s pull still lingered in her mind, a gnawing presence that wouldn’t let go. She ran, desperate to escape into the safety of the vents. Clambering her way in as fast as her body allowed it.

Each slide forward ached with an unrelenting pain, her cool whisper of thoughts barely keeping her calm. She felt something unfamiliar gnawing at her—a fear that sunk deeper, deeper and deeper still. Her curiosity had always driven her; but for the first time, it was overcome with dread.

She ran home, desperate to find solace in its walls. Ignoring the pain in her side, she moved faster than ever before; ignoring the concerned stares of those passing by. She wanted to run, she wanted to hide, anything to escape that terror; and it was in this tumultuous state that she fell asleep.