Chapter 8: A Shifting Death Trap

The sensation of falling lingered long after Coza hit the cold surface of the underground lake. The impact drove the air from his lungs and plunged him into icy blackness. For a moment, there was no up or down, only the oppressive weight of the water around him. The sphere pressed tightly against his chest, its faint pulse the only constant in the chaos.

Kicking desperately, Coza surfaced, gasping for air. Around him, the cavern stretched vast and unknowable, its edges swallowed by shadows. Above, the ledge they had leapt from was a faint outline, the machine’s screeches fading into the distance. The silence that replaced them was almost more unsettling.

A splash nearby signaled Edna’s arrival. She surfaced with a grimace, her hood tossed back to reveal short, dark hair plastered to her forehead. Her breath came in ragged bursts as she treaded water, her sharp eyes scanning the cavern.

“Can you swim?” she asked between breaths.

“Barely,” Coza admitted, his voice shaking from the cold.

“Then you’d better learn quickly,” Edna said, nodding toward the faint glow in the distance. “That way.”

Coza didn’t argue. His arms burned as he followed her, each stroke dragging him closer to exhaustion. The water felt alive, its icy grip tightening around him with every movement. The faint glow grew steadily brighter, revealing a jagged shoreline of glistening black stone.

Edna reached the shore first, pulling herself onto the slick rocks with a grunt. She turned and extended a hand, her expression unreadable. Coza hesitated but took it, her grip steady as she helped haul him out of the water. He collapsed onto the stone, gasping for breath as the cold seeped into his bones.

Edna stood over him, wringing water from her coat. “You’re alive. That’s more than I can say for whatever’s still up there.”

Coza managed a weak glare. “You’re welcome.”

Edna snorted, but her gaze softened slightly. “Rest while you can. This place isn’t safe.”

The glow they’d followed came from a series of phosphorescent veins running through the stone. The light pulsed faintly, casting the cavern in an otherworldly hue. Coza sat up slowly, his eyes tracing the glowing lines as they curved and branched like the roots of an ancient tree.

“What is this place?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Edna crouched beside him, her fingers brushing the glowing stone. “A vein,” she murmured. “The Harbor was built on these. They run deep beneath the city, carrying energy from... something.”

“What kind of energy?” Coza pressed, though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

Edna shook her head. “No one knows. The corporations tried to study it, mine it, control it. But every attempt ended the same way—failure, and a lot of dead workers.”

Coza frowned. “Then why is it still here?”

“Because some things can’t be erased,” Edna said, standing. “They’re too old, too stubborn. The Harbor thrives on forgetting, but these veins? They don’t let go.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Coza looked down at the sphere in his hand, its glow now in sync with the veins. The sight filled him with a strange mix of awe and dread.

“What does it want?” he asked, mostly to himself.

Edna’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before she turned away. “Come on. If we stay here too long, it’ll find us.”

Coza stood reluctantly, his muscles aching as he followed her along the glowing path. The cavern widened as they walked, its walls carved with symbols similar to those he’d seen in the chamber above. The air grew warmer, the oppressive chill replaced by a strange, humming heat.

They passed a broken archway, its stone crumbling under the weight of time. Beyond it lay a massive chasm, its depths glowing faintly with the same light as the veins. A rickety bridge stretched across the gap, its planks swaying precariously in the faint breeze.

Edna stopped at the edge, her eyes narrowing. “This wasn’t here the last time.”

“You’ve been down here before?” Coza asked, his voice rising with disbelief.

“Not this far,” Edna admitted. “But I’ve heard stories. Places like this don’t stay the same.”

“Great,” Coza muttered. “A shifting death trap.”

Edna smirked. “You’re catching on.”

They stepped onto the bridge cautiously, each creak of the wood echoing in the vastness below. The glow of the chasm intensified as they crossed, revealing faint movements in the shadows. Coza glanced down and immediately regretted it. Shapes slithered in the depths, their forms indistinct but unnervingly large.

“Don’t look,” Edna warned, her voice cutting through his growing panic. “They can’t hurt you if you don’t see them.”

“How comforting,” Coza muttered, forcing his gaze forward.

Halfway across, a low rumble shook the bridge. Edna stopped, her body tense as she scanned the chasm. The rumble grew louder, rising into a guttural roar that seemed to vibrate through the air.

“Keep moving,” Edna said, her tone sharper now.

Coza didn’t argue. He hurried across the swaying planks, his heart pounding with each step. The roar grew closer, accompanied by a sound like grinding metal. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of movement—a massive, serpentine form rising from the depths.

The creature was unlike anything Coza had ever seen. Its body shimmered with the same light as the veins, its surface a chaotic blend of metal and flesh. Its eyes—if they could be called that—glowed a piercing white, locking onto the bridge with an almost mechanical precision.

“Run!” Edna shouted.

This time, Coza didn’t hesitate. He sprinted across the remaining planks, the bridge swaying violently beneath him. The creature lunged, its massive head striking the edge of the chasm as it snapped at the bridge. Splinters flew, and Coza stumbled, barely managing to keep his footing.

Edna fired her weapon, the shots ricocheting off the creature’s metallic hide. It roared again, the sound deafening as it reared back for another strike.

“Faster!” Edna yelled, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

Coza reached the other side just as the creature slammed into the bridge, shattering the remaining planks. Edna leapt, landing hard beside him as the bridge collapsed into the chasm. The creature roared in frustration, its serpentine body twisting as it retreated into the shadows.

Coza collapsed onto the stone, his chest heaving. “What... was that?”

“Guardian,” Edna said simply, brushing herself off. “Every path down here has one.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that earlier?” Coza snapped.

Edna shrugged. “Would it have made a difference?”

Before Coza could respond, the veins along the walls began to pulse more brightly, their rhythm growing faster. Edna’s expression darkened as she helped Coza to his feet.

“They know we’re here,” she said, her voice low. “We need to keep moving.”

The glow of the veins guided their path, casting long, wavering shadows that seemed to shift with intent. Coza gripped the sphere tightly, its warmth almost comforting against the rising tension.