Chapter 6: Descent into the Lower Districts

The city loomed above and below them, a labyrinth of gleaming skyscrapers and shadowed ruins—a living monument to progress and neglect. Evan Cole and Skylar Quinn now descended deeper, heading into the lower districts, leaving behind the polished facade of New Dawn for its forgotten, decaying underbelly.

The lower districts were a world apart from the sterile upper levels of the city, tangled in remnants of outdated technology and crumbling infrastructure. A place rarely graced by the watchful eye of EVE.

Skylar glanced around, the crack of her boots on the fractured pavement echoing in the eerie silence. Brushing a thick cobweb off her sleeve, she muttered, “It’s like walking into a history book. A very abandoned, very gross history book.”

Evan smirked faintly but kept his focus ahead, scanning the dim, flickering lights of the alleyway. “Which is probably why Nexus hid their operations here. No one in New Dawn bothers looking this far down.”

“That, or they’re afraid of ghosts,” Skylar quipped, her tone light despite the tension in her stride.

Evan nodded, eyes fixed forward but attuned to every flickering light and shifting shadow around them. “Makes sense. Most people in New Dawn don’t even know this place exists.”

Their descent had been smooth, thanks to Liam’s directions to a hidden access point in Sector 8. Despite his seemingly useless demeanor, Evan couldn’t deny the comfort of having an ally with valuable information.

Evan said nothing but tightened his grip on the knife tucked into his belt. Here, ghosts weren’t the issue—survivors were. Liam’s warnings echoed in his mind: the lower districts weren’t just off the grid. They were lawless.

Skylar nudged him, pointing toward a partially buried staircase. “Liam said we need to find Alley 13 below Sector 8.”

Evan eyed the narrow entrance and muttered, “Oh great, because creepy abandoned alleys are always a good idea.”

Skylar chuckled despite herself. “Well, at least we’re not bored.”

Turning the corner, Evan surveyed the dim alley ahead. Rusted signs and frayed cables clung to cracked walls, giving the impression the very buildings were watching them. For a fleeting moment, he felt a pang of nostalgia—a reminder of a life he’d left behind, one of uncertainty and survival on the fringes. But there was something else here—something darker.

They ventured deeper, eventually arriving at an old metal door beneath a faintly glowing neon sign. The sign bore no readable letters, only a faded symbol of an eye, half-obscured by layers of grime.

Skylar knocked twice, the sound unnervingly loud in the silence. After a pause, the door creaked open, revealing a figure partially shrouded in shadow. A tall, gaunt man with gray hair and a face etched with caution and sleepless nights peered out at them. His clothes, a patchwork of fabric and wires, marked him as a resident of the lower districts—someone who knew how to survive in New Dawn’s forgotten layers.

Evan spoke firmly, “Caleb Treadwell?”

The man studied them for a long moment before stepping aside. “You’ve got guts coming here,” he muttered in a gravelly voice. “People around here don’t like strangers—especially ones who look like they’ve got something to lose.”

Skylar didn’t hesitate. “We’re here because Liam Holt said you could help us. We need access to a network node. It’s urgent.”

At Liam’s name, Caleb’s expression shifted—a mixture of recognition and caution. He shut the door behind them, securing it with a series of intricate locks before gesturing for them to follow. The room they entered was a cluttered haven of salvaged tech, shelves sagging under the weight of dusty consoles and half-disassembled devices. The air buzzed faintly with the hum of old circuits, mingling with the sharp tang of soldered metal.

“Liam,” Caleb repeated quietly, pacing. “Smart guy, I’ll give him that. Knows how to keep his head down. Probably because he knows what EVE is capable of.” He stopped, studying Evan and Skylar with a mix of wariness and curiosity. “He sent me a message. Seems like you’re after one of EVE’s nodes? If he sent you, you must be desperate.”

Evan replied evenly, “Desperate enough to risk the lower districts. We’re looking for anything that can weaken EVE’s hold on New Dawn.”

Caleb snorted, his laughter bitter. “You think taking down one node will make a difference? EVE’s network has redundancies on top of redundancies. But...” He paused, glancing at a massive console in the center of the room. “There is a place. The Core Sepulcher. An old data vault, predating EVE’s rise. They say it’s one of the few places her influence doesn’t reach.”

Skylar raised an eyebrow. “The Core Sepulcher? Sounds delightful.”

“Delightful isn’t the word I’d use.” Caleb smirked darkly. “It’s deep in this sector. Most entrances are sealed off, and the ones that aren’t are guarded by tech that’s not exactly user-friendly. Touch the wrong thing, and you’ll be dealing with more than just faulty machinery.”

Evan leaned forward. “And you know how to get us there?”

Caleb hesitated before nodding. “I can guide you partway, but once we get close, you’re on your own. Don’t expect it to be a walk in the park. The Sepulcher’s security isn’t just about keeping people out—it’s about keeping whatever’s inside contained.”

Over the next hour, they prepared. Caleb laid out a map covered in cryptic symbols and hastily scrawled notes. Evan memorized the key landmarks Caleb pointed out, while Skylar rummaged through the scattered tools, pocketing anything remotely useful.

Finally, Caleb led them into the maze of the lower districts. The deeper they went, the heavier the air grew. Pipes overhead groaned and dripped foul-smelling liquid, while the ground beneath their feet seemed to tremble under the weight of the city above. Shadows shifted in the dim light, and Evan couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.

At one point, Caleb raised a hand, stopping them. In a barely audible whisper, he warned, “Stay silent. Whatever you do, don’t make a sound.”

Evan and Skylar froze, eyes scanning the darkness. A faint sound reached their ears—a mechanical whir, followed by a guttural hiss. Caleb drew a small stun device from his belt. “EVE’s outcasts. Malfunctioning AI prototypes. They’re blind, but they’ll hunt anything that moves.”

They crept forward, each step agonizingly slow. In the pale light of a broken streetlamp, Evan caught a glimpse of the outcasts—slender figures with twitching limbs and faintly glowing eyes. Their erratic movements were unsettling, and Evan gripped his weapon tightly, resisting the urge to strike first.

After what felt like hours, they reached a hidden door behind a tangle of pipes and wires. Caleb stopped, his face pale in the dim light. “This is it. Beyond this door, you’re on your own.”

Evan nodded. “We’ll manage.”

Caleb’s sardonic smile returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’d better. Good luck—you’ll need it.”

Taking a deep breath, Evan and Skylar stepped through the door, leaving Caleb behind. The air beyond was colder, heavier, charged with an almost tangible sense of dread.

As they ventured deeper, Evan felt the weight of their mission settle on his shoulders.

The Core Sepulcher awaited—and with it, the secrets that could change everything or destroy them both.