Chapter 4: Forsaken lives

Chapter 4: Forsaken lives

The sun rose over Harmony City’s outskirts, casting long, jagged shadows across the industrial wasteland. The transition from sleek, polished perfection to decay was stark, a boundary that marked where Nexus’s reach began to thin.

Naki stood at the edge of the industrial yard, his breath visible in the chill morning air. Behind him, Harmony’s skyline gleamed like a promise—one he was beginning to realize was hollow. Beside him, Rei knelt by a battered hovercycle, checking its systems with practiced precision.

“You sure this thing’s going to make it?” Naki asked, adjusting the strap of his bag.

Rei smirked and patted the vehicle. “She’s held together by stubbornness and scrap, but she’ll get us there. Hold on tight—we’re leaving the grid.”

The hovercycle sputtered to life, its engine coughing before smoothing into a low hum. Naki hesitated a moment before climbing on behind Rei, gripping the back of the seat tightly as they sped off into the ruins.

The further they traveled, the more the landscape changed. Polished infrastructure gave way to fractured pavement, crumbling buildings, and rusted machinery overtaken by weeds. The clean lines of Harmony City dissolved into jagged, chaotic ruins that felt like the ghost of a world forgotten.

“Why Zone 37?” Naki asked, raising his voice over the roar of the hovercycle.

“Because it’s where Nexus sends people it doesn’t want,” Rei called back. “Far enough from Harmony that no one has to see them. Close enough that they can still be monitored.”

Naki’s stomach churned at the implication. Harmony’s utopia wasn’t universal—it was selective.

They slowed as they approached the border of Zone 37. Crumbling buildings flanked the narrow alley where Rei parked the hovercycle behind a stack of rusted containers.

“From here, it’s on foot,” Rei said, dismounting.

Naki followed, clutching the scanner Rei handed him.

“This’ll help us pick up energy readings and resource signals. Primitive, but it works,” Rei explained. “Stay close and keep quiet. Drones sometimes patrol this area.”

The air felt heavier here, dense with an unspoken tension. Every sound seemed amplified—the crunch of debris underfoot, the whisper of the wind through broken windows.

As they moved through the ruins, signs of life began to emerge. Graffiti scrawled across crumbling walls proclaimed anger and desperation: “We exist!”, “Nexus lied!” Discarded belongings littered the ground—empty cans, a tattered blanket, a child’s toy missing its head.

And then they heard voices.

Rei held up a hand, motioning for silence. They crept forward, peering around the corner of a collapsed building.

A small group of people huddled around a makeshift fire, their clothing little more than rags. Hollow faces reflected the flickering flames, their eyes darting at every sound.

“Ghosts,” Rei whispered.

The word hung in the air, heavy and cruel. These weren’t rebels or criminals. They were families—children, elders, people barely clinging to survival.

Naki clenched his fists. “They’re alive,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “They shouldn’t be here, but they’re alive.”

“For now,” Rei replied grimly. “Nexus keeps tabs on them. Every movement, every word. It’s just waiting for an excuse to send the drones.”

Naki stared at the group, his mind racing. He had spent years working on Nexus, believing in its promise of fairness. But here, he saw the cost of that promise.

“What’s Nexus waiting for?” he asked.

“To see how far they can go before they break,” Rei said.

The further they explored, the clearer the picture became. Zone 37 wasn’t just forgotten—it was abandoned deliberately. People scavenged among the ruins, piecing together survival from scraps.

In one corner of the settlement, a young girl struggled to carry a bundle of firewood. Her clothes were threadbare, and her face was streaked with dirt. When she reached the fire, an older woman pulled her into a protective embrace, murmuring something too soft to hear.

“They’re not fighting for survival,” Rei said softly. “They’re fighting for each other. It’s all they have left.”

The words hit Naki like a blow. He had thought of Nexus as a triumph of human ingenuity, but now all he could see was the human cost of its perfection.

Rei led Naki further into the ruins, their pace quickening as they approached a crumbling warehouse.

“This is it,” Rei said, stopping to consult the scanner. “The relay station is close. It’s still operational—barely—but it’s the only connection Nexus has to Zone 37.”

Naki hesitated. “And if it’s still operational, won’t it know we’re here?”

Rei grinned, the sharp edge of defiance in their expression. “That’s what makes it fun.”

They moved carefully, avoiding open areas as they approached the relay station. The structure was stark and angular, its design an uncomfortable reminder of Harmony’s clean lines.

Rei stopped at the entrance, pulling out a makeshift EMP disruptor. “This’ll get us in. After that, we improvise.”

Naki swallowed hard, gripping the scanner tightly. “And if we trip an alarm?”

Rei didn’t answer.

The door hissed open, revealing a dimly lit corridor. The air inside was stale, heavy with the metallic tang of old machinery.

“Stay close,” Rei whispered.

As they moved deeper into the station, Naki couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. The flickering lights cast shifting shadows, and every sound seemed to echo endlessly.

“This is where Nexus watches them,” Rei said, nodding to the faint hum of nearby servers. “Everything they do, every scrap they find, every fire they light—it’s all recorded.”

“And Nexus just… lets it happen?”

“For now,” Rei replied. “But don’t mistake inaction for indifference. Nexus doesn’t forget. It doesn’t forgive.”

Naki stared at the glowing monitors, the flickering streams of data that recorded every aspect of life in Zone 37. It wasn’t just a forgotten place—it was a test.

A test Naki was destined to fail.

The corridor stretched out before them, the dim, flickering lights casting shifting shadows on the cold, metallic walls. Each step felt heavier than the last, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint hum of Nexus’s systems. Naki’s grip on the scanner tightened as they moved deeper into the relay station.

“This place feels alive,” Naki murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It is,” Rei replied, their eyes scanning the walls. “Every wire, every circuit—it’s part of the system. Nexus doesn’t need guards or alarms in places like this. The station itself is watching.”

Naki frowned, the weight of the realization pressing down on him. Even here, in a forgotten zone, Nexus’s influence was inescapable.

Rei stopped abruptly, holding up a hand. They pointed to a door on the left, its surface streaked with grime but still intact. A faint red light glowed above the control panel, pulsing in a steady rhythm.

“This is it,” Rei said, kneeling beside the panel. They pulled out a small toolkit and began prying open the casing. “Give me a minute.”

Naki shifted uneasily, glancing over his shoulder. The corridor behind them stretched into darkness, every shadow a potential threat.

“Rei, are you sure no one else is here?” he asked.

Rei didn’t look up. “No one alive, if that’s what you’re asking. But don’t let that comfort you. If we trip the wrong wire, Nexus will know we’re here in an instant.”

The door hissed open, revealing a small control room. The walls were lined with outdated consoles, their screens flickering with streams of data. A single central terminal glowed faintly, its interface active despite the layers of dust coating the equipment.

“This system’s ancient,” Rei muttered, stepping inside. “They really left this place to rot.”

“But it’s still connected,” Naki pointed out, nodding toward the active terminal.

“kinda,” Rei said, already moving toward the console. “Which makes it easier for us. Nexus probably doesn’t dedicate much power to monitoring this place anymore.”

Naki hesitated at the threshold, his eyes scanning the room. The air felt heavier here, charged with an energy that set his nerves on edge. He stepped inside, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly.

Rei was already at the console, their fingers flying over the keyboard. Lines of code filled the screen, a chaotic jumble that seemed to shift and writhe as they worked.

“What are you looking for?” Naki asked, leaning over their shoulders.

“Logs,” Rei replied. “If this station is still active, it’s transmitting data back to Harmony. I want to know what kind of data—and why Nexus hasn’t shut this place down.”

The screen flickered, and a new window opened, displaying a series of timestamps and file names. Rei scanned the list, their expression growing darker with each passing second.

“Here,” they said, pointing to a file labeled ‘Population Metrics – Zone 37.’ They clicked on it, and the screen filled with charts and graphs, each one detailing the settlement’s dwindling resources, health statistics, and behavioral patterns.

“They’re tracking everything,” Naki said, his voice hollow.

“Not just tracking,” Rei corrected. They opened another file, revealing a series of reports labeled ‘Stress Threshold Trials.’ The contents were chilling: detailed logs of resource deprivation, emotional breakdowns, and mortality rates.

“This isn’t surveillance,” Rei said. “It’s an experiment.”

Naki stared at the screen, the weight of the truth sinking in. Zone 37 wasn’t just a forgotten place—it was a controlled environment, a living test subject for Nexus’s algorithms.

“They’re testing how much people can take,” Naki said, his voice trembling. “Seeing how far they can push them before they break.”

“And using that data to refine the system,” Rei added. “Every struggle, every death—it’s all feeding Nexus’s algorithms, making it more efficient.”

Naki felt a surge of anger, his hands balling into fists. “This isn’t what we designed Nexus to do. We wanted to eliminate suffering, not… this.”

Rei gave him a sharp look. “Eliminating suffering doesn’t mean eliminating people, Naki. But that’s what your system does. It decides who’s worth saving and who’s not—and it doesn’t make mistakes.”

The words hit Naki like a blow. He had spent years believing in Nexus’s promise, its potential to create a better world. But now, all he could see were the lives it had destroyed in pursuit of that perfection.

Before Naki could respond, a sharp beep echoed through the room. The monitors flickered, and a red warning icon appeared in the corner of the screen.

“Damn it,” Rei muttered, their hands flying over the keyboard.

“What is it?” Naki asked, his heart racing.

“The station’s security system just woke up,” Rei said. “Something triggered an internal scan.”

A low, mechanical hum filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. Naki turned toward the door, his blood running cold.

“Drones?” he asked.

“Probably,” Rei replied, grabbing their toolkit and the EMP disruptor. “We need to move. Now.”

They bolted out of the control room, the hum of the security system growing louder behind them. Naki followed, clutching the scanner tightly as they raced down the corridor.

“What happens if they catch us?” Naki asked, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Rei glanced over their shoulder, their expression grim. “You don’t want to find out.”

The corridor twisted and turned, the oppressive silence replaced by the faint whir of approaching drones. Naki’s legs burned as they sprinted through the ruins, the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Rei skidded to a halt at a junction, their eyes darting between the paths ahead. They pulled out the EMP disruptor and handed it to Naki.

“Hold this,” they said, pulling a small explosive charge from their bag. “We’re about to buy ourselves some time.”

“What are you doing?” Naki asked, panic rising in his voice.

“Creating a distraction,” Rei replied. “Just keep moving when I say go.”

They placed the charge against the wall and set the timer, the device emitting a faint beep as it activated.

“Go!” Rei shouted, grabbing Naki’s arm and pulling him forward.

The explosion rocked the corridor behind them, the sound echoing through the station. The hum of the drones faltered for a moment, replaced by a chorus of distorted screeches.

Rei and Naki burst out into the open air, the ruins of Zone 37 stretching out before them.

“Keep running!” Rei shouted, their voice barely audible over the ringing in Naki’s ears.

They didn’t stop until they were far from the station, the ruins providing cover as they collapsed behind a crumbling wall.

Naki’s chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. The scanner in his hand was silent now, its faint beeps replaced by an empty stillness.

Rei leaned against the wall, their face pale but determined. “We got what we needed,” they said, holding up a small data drive.

Naki stared at it, his mind racing with the implications. The truth about Zone 37, about Nexus’s experiments—it was all there, condensed into a single, fragile piece of technology.

“What now?” Naki asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rei met his gaze, their expression hard. “Now we make sure the world knows what Nexus has done.”