The Edge of Oblivion

Orion pushed forward through the tunnel, his mind still reeling from the confrontation with the golden-eyed Judge. His body ached, every muscle screaming in protest, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins kept him moving. Cipher limped beside him, clutching his ribs. The flickering emergency lights overhead cast elongated shadows against the rusted walls, painting their escape in an eerie glow.

"We need to get off the grid. Now," Cipher rasped. "That thing—whatever it was—wasn't just a Judge. It was something worse."

Orion didn't respond. His thoughts were a chaotic storm. The sensation of reality bending around him, of choices fracturing into infinite possibilities—it wasn't just an ability. It was something deeper, something primal. The Judges weren't merely chasing him. They were testing him.

They reached a rusted steel hatch at the tunnel's end. Cipher quickly punched a sequence into his wrist console, overriding the lock. With a hiss, the hatch groaned open, revealing a service shaft that led to the lower districts. Orion climbed through first, helping Cipher up as the hatch sealed behind them. The sound of the city returned, the hum of machinery and distant voices blending into the neon haze of the underbelly.

Cipher leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. "We're ghosts now, Orion. We can't trust anyone. Not even the UnderNet. The Judges will have planted eyes everywhere."

Orion exhaled sharply, wiping rain from his face. "Then we disappear. Figure out what the hell is happening to me before they catch up again."

Cipher's gaze darkened. "You don't get it, do you? You're not just some runaway. You're the single biggest threat to their reality. If you keep using that power, they will find you."

Orion looked past him, down the alley where the distant neon signs pulsed with life. The city felt different now. Like the rules that governed it were fraying, and he was standing at the fault line. He had two choices—run and hide forever, or learn to control the anomaly within him.

His jaw tightened. "Then I need to get stronger."

Cipher let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "You're insane. But I respect it. Come on—we have work to do."

As they vanished into the depths of the lower district, the sky overhead darkened, a storm brewing on the horizon. The Eschaton Judges weren't done. And Orion knew this was only the beginning.

Hours later, Orion sat in a dimly lit hideout, the hum of old tech filling the room. Cipher had led him to an abandoned data hub, one of the few places off-grid enough to avoid detection. Stacks of outdated servers flickered weakly, barely hanging onto life, while broken monitors buzzed with static. The place smelled of rust, damp wires, and forgotten history.

Cipher tossed a data pad onto the table between them. "You need training, but we don't have the luxury of time. The Judges will hunt you down faster than you can blink. We need to work fast."

Orion picked up the pad, scrolling through layers of code, schematics, and surveillance feeds. "What am I looking at?"

"Potential allies," Cipher replied. "People who know things. People who can help us fight back. The UnderNet rebellion isn't just a myth. There are factions—hackers, mercenaries, rogue AI constructs. We just need to find the right ones."

Orion frowned. "And what if they don't want to help?"

Cipher smirked. "Then we make them an offer they can't refuse."

A flicker of static interrupted them as a nearby screen came to life. A symbol appeared—a shattered mask surrounded by digital flames. Orion's eyes narrowed. He had seen that mark before, deep in the corners of the net.

Cipher's face darkened. "Looks like they found us first."

The transmission crackled, and a distorted voice spoke. "Orion. We've been expecting you."

End of the Prologue Arc.

To be continued...