Chapter 6: First Steps

The descent was claustrophobic and disconcerting. The only light came from the occasional glowing cable bundle running alongside the ladder rungs and the faint, ambient luminescence emanating from his own Nexus suit, barely enough to illuminate the corroded metal immediately around him. The air remained stale, thick with the smell of dust, aged lubricants, and something vaguely metallic, like corroded copper. The sounds of the bustling Hub above faded rapidly, replaced by a heavy silence broken only by the soft scrape of his boots on the rungs, his own breathing, and the low, intermittent hum of unseen machinery somewhere in the walls.

His [Basic Navigation] skill was useless here, the mini-map displaying only static, the main map showing his icon hovering over the last known position in the corridor above, marked 'Signal Lost'. He was truly off the grid, relying solely on his own senses – senses that felt sharper, more attuned in this virtual body, picking up subtle vibrations in the structure and faint drafts of air suggesting intersecting tunnels or larger spaces nearby.

He descended steadily, testing each rung before putting his full weight on it. Some were slick with condensation or grime, others felt slightly loose. The warning about 'Environmental Hazards' wasn't just flavor text. A fall here could be genuinely dangerous, even if death just meant a respawn somewhere inconvenient. He instinctively checked his HP: 100/100. Full health, but that could change quickly.

After descending perhaps thirty meters – judging by the number of rungs counted – the shaft opened out at the bottom into a narrow, low-ceilinged tunnel. It wasn't much wider than his shoulders, constructed from the same corroded metal plates as the shaft. Dim emergency lights flickered intermittently along the ceiling, casting long, dancing shadows. Cables and pipes snaked along the walls and floor, some sparking feebly, others coated in thick layers of dust that suggested long disuse. This area felt old, neglected, part of the Nexus's deeper infrastructure, far removed from the gleaming facade of Aethelburg Prime.

Two directions presented themselves: left or right down the narrow tunnel. There were no signs, no map data. He paused, straining his hearing, trying to gauge which way led somewhere interesting, or at least somewhere less likely to feature collapsing floors or malfunctioning maintenance bots – the non-homicidal kind, hopefully. Faintly, from the left, he heard a rhythmic clanking sound, irregular but persistent. From the right, only a low, steady hum, similar to the background noise he'd heard descending the shaft.

Clanking usually meant machinery, potentially active machinery. Humming could be anything – power conduits, ventilation, dormant systems. His Infiltrator instincts leaned towards the path less likely to announce his presence. He turned right, moving cautiously down the tunnel.

He activated his toolkit interface again, selecting the [Data Spike]. A holographic representation appeared in his vision, showing its function: establishing a direct interface with compatible data ports, allowing for limited data extraction or system manipulation. It wasn't a full-blown hacking deck, but it was better than nothing. He kept the interface ready, scanning the grimy walls for any accessible ports or control panels.

The tunnel twisted, turned, and occasionally branched into even smaller conduits, most ending in dead ends or grates overlooking vast, dark chasms filled with colossal, unidentifiable machinery. He ignored these, sticking to the main path, such as it was. He encountered several standard maintenance access panels, but his bypass probe indicated they were either welded shut, mechanically jammed, or required higher authorization levels his basic tools couldn't crack. This place was locked down, or simply forgotten.

After perhaps ten minutes of careful navigation, the low hum grew slightly louder. Ahead, the tunnel widened slightly into a small junction chamber. In the center stood a single, isolated console terminal, unlike the sleek interfaces in the Hub. This one was older, bulkier, its casing scratched and dented, the screen dark. It looked like a relic from a previous iteration of the Nexus, or perhaps part of the underlying control system OmniCorp didn't want users seeing. A thick bundle of fiber optic cables snaked out from its base, disappearing into the floor plating.

Zero approached cautiously, scanning the chamber. Empty. Dust motes danced in the flickering emergency lights. He reached the terminal. Its screen remained stubbornly dark. No obvious power button. He ran his hand along the casing, feeling for seams, ports. There, on the side, partially obscured by grime, was a standard maintenance data port.

He focused his intent, activating the [Data Spike] function from his toolkit. He visualized inserting the spike, establishing a connection. The holographic overlay shifted, displaying connection protocols attempting to handshake with the terminal.

[Attempting Interface Connection...]

[Security Protocols Detected: Low Level (Legacy System)]

[INT Check Required: Difficulty 5]

[Rolling... User INT (13) vs Difficulty (5)... Success!]

[Connection Established. Basic Access Granted.]

The terminal screen flickered to life, displaying not a modern graphical interface, but lines of stark, monochrome text scrolling rapidly – system logs, diagnostic routines, error messages dating back weeks, months, maybe longer. It was like looking at the raw guts of the simulation.

Most of the data was mundane: power fluctuations, atmospheric filter status reports, routine integrity checks. But Zero's eyes, trained to pick patterns from chaos, snagged on recurring error flags linked to 'Sub-routine 734: Environmental Simulation - Fauna Behaviors'. The errors indicated unexpected deviations, 'non-standard predatory loops,' and 'unlogged entity generation' specifically within designated 'Beta Zones'. It sounded suspiciously like his cleaning bot encounter, but on a larger scale. Was the Nexus simulation itself unstable? Were its simulated creatures going rogue?

He tried to delve deeper, accessing the specific error logs for Sub-routine 734, but a new prompt appeared.

[Access Denied. Security Clearance Level 2 Required.]

[Warning: Unauthorized Access Attempt Logged.]

Damn it. Logged? He quickly disconnected the data spike. He didn't need OmniCorp security, virtual or otherwise, showing up down here. Still, he'd learned something. The simulation had flaws, behavioral glitches that went beyond simple visual anomalies. And someone, or something, was logging his attempts to look into them.

As the screen faded back to black, a new System Notification pinged.

[System Notification]

[Discovery: Accessed Legacy System Terminal.]

[Reward Granted: +10 EXP]

[Reward Granted: Skill Acquired - [Scan (Active)]]

[LEVEL UP! User has reached Level 2!]

[Current EXP: 0/200] [Level: 2]

[+5 Attribute Points Available!]

[Infiltrator Starting Skill Package Unlocked: [Silent Movement (Passive)], [Weak Point Analysis (Passive)]]

A cascade of rewards. Level 2. Just like that, for poking around where he shouldn't have been. The feeling of progression was undeniably potent. He immediately opened his [STATUS] screen.

[User: Zero]

[Level: 2]

[EXP: 0/200]

[Title: None]

[Class: Infiltrator (Initial)]

[HP: 110/110] (Increased via Level Up)

[EP: 55/55] (Increased via Level Up)

[Core Attributes:]

[STR: 5]

[DEX: 9]

[CON: 6]

[INT: 13]

[WIS: 7]

[CHA: 4]

[Free Attribute Points: 5]

He now had 5 points to distribute. Standard RPG dilemma. Boost his core stats, INT and DEX, further solidifying his Infiltrator role? Or shore up his weaknesses, like CON for more survivability, or maybe even a point in CHA just to be less socially inept? Tempting as it was to dump everything into INT for better hacking or DEX for better agility, he remembered the beating his cleaning bot gave him. Survivability mattered. He decided on a balanced approach for now: +2 INT, +2 DEX, +1 CON.

[Attributes Updated:]

[CON: 6 -> 7] (HP/EP slightly increased)

[DEX: 9 -> 11]

[INT: 13 -> 15]

[Free Attribute Points: 0]

He felt another subtle shift, a feeling of enhanced coordination, quicker thought processes, a slightly more resilient feeling in his virtual body. Next, he checked his [SKILLS] tab. It was no longer empty.

[Active Skills:]

[Scan (Rank 1)]Cost: 5 EPDescription: Performs an active energy and data scan of the immediate vicinity (10m radius). Reveals basic information about interactive objects, energy signatures, and detectable entities (Level, Type, basic status). Higher ranks increase range, detail, and ability to bypass basic stealth.Cooldown: 3 seconds.

[Passive Skills:]

[Basic Navigation (Rank 1)] (Acquired Earlier)[Silent Movement (Rank 1)] (Infiltrator Package)Description: Reduces noise generated by movement. Effectiveness scales with DEX and skill rank. Provides a small chance to avoid detection by sound-based sensors or entities.

[Weak Point Analysis (Rank 1)] (Infiltrator Package)Description: Grants a chance (based on INT/WIS and skill rank) to automatically identify structural or systemic weaknesses when observing objects or entities. Revealed weak points may be exploitable for increased damage, easier bypass, or critical effects.

This was more like it. An active scanning ability, perfect for reconnaissance. Silent Movement and Weak Point Analysis were bread-and-butter skills for any stealth or precision-focused character. He felt a genuine surge of excitement, the thrill of unlocking new tools, new potential.

He decided to test [Scan]. Focusing his intent and spending the EP (EP: 50/55), he triggered the skill. A ripple of faint blue energy seemed to emanate outwards from him, washing over the small chamber before dissipating. His interface momentarily overlaid basic information on nearby objects: 'Legacy Terminal (Offline)', 'Damaged Power Conduit (Minor Energy Leak)', 'Structural Support Beam (Stable)', 'Accumulated Dust (Non-Interactive)'. Simple, but effective. It didn't reveal any hidden compartments in this room, but it confirmed the state of objects around him. He could see this being invaluable.

The [Silent Movement] passive was harder to gauge without something trying to detect him, but he felt like his steps were indeed making less noise as he moved around the chamber. [Weak Point Analysis] also seemed passive; nothing immediately highlighted itself, but he suspected it would trigger automatically when observing enemies or specific objects.

He'd gained a level, new skills, and valuable intel about system instability, plus confirmation that his actions were being logged. Not bad for ignoring the tutorial quest. But now what? Go back up? Or press further into the darkness? The rhythmic clanking he'd heard earlier from the left fork of the tunnel echoed faintly. Maybe it was time to investigate the noise.

He retraced his steps to the junction, the newfound [Silent Movement] making his progress feel smoother, more confident. He paused at the branching point, listening intently. The clanking was definitely louder down the left tunnel, still irregular, accompanied by occasional scraping sounds. It didn't sound like standard, functional machinery. It sounded… broken. Or angry. Like his cleaning bot.

He used [Scan] again (EP: 45/55). The blue ripple washed down the left tunnel. His interface updated: 'Corroded Piping (Stable)', 'Junction Box (Offline)', 'Unknown Energy Signature (Fluctuating)', and then, further down, obscured by a bend: 'Entity Detected: [Malfunctioning Maintenance Drone - Level 3]'.

Level 3. One level higher than him. And 'malfunctioning'. That sounded promisingly dangerous. His HP was full (now 115 thanks to the CON increase), his EP mostly recovered. He had his toolkit and a couple of new skills. Could he take it? It would be his first real combat encounter in the Nexus. A test.

He checked his toolkit interface again. The [Data Spike] might work if he could get close enough to a port on the drone. The [Bypass Probe] was likely useless against a mobile entity. The [Multi-Driver] and [Splicer Clamp] were for repairs, not combat. He had no actual weapons. This would be tricky.

He activated [Scan] one more time (EP: 40/55) as he crept slowly down the left tunnel, hugging the shadows, his [Silent Movement] hopefully helping. The drone came into view around the bend.

It was larger than his KawaTech bot, roughly waist-high, built for heavy-duty work rather than domestic cleaning. It moved on three articulated legs ending in magnetic pads, allowing it to cling to walls or ceilings if needed. Its body was a mess of exposed wiring, dented plating, and one missing manipulator arm, replaced by a sparking, jagged stump. A single, large optical sensor glowed an angry red, sweeping erratically across the tunnel. It clanked and scraped as it moved, seemingly patrolling a short loop, occasionally ramming into the wall with a frustrated screech of metal. Definitely malfunctioning.

As Zero watched from the shadows, his [Weak Point Analysis] skill suddenly triggered. A faint, shimmering overlay highlighted specific points on the drone in his vision: an exposed power conduit near its main processor unit, a damaged hydraulic joint in one of its legs, and the socket where the manipulator arm used to be. The overlay helpfully added text: '[Exposed Conduit: Energy Vulnerability]', '[Damaged Joint: Mobility Impairment Possible]', '[Empty Socket: Internal Access Point]'.

This was incredibly useful. He had targets. Now he just needed a plan. Rushing it head-on seemed suicidal. Its remaining manipulator arm looked like a heavy-duty plasma cutter, currently inactive but undoubtedly dangerous. Trying to use the [Data Spike] meant getting close, risking that cutter activating.

Maybe he could use the environment? The tunnel walls were lined with pipes and conduits, some visibly damaged. He scanned again (EP: 35/55), focusing on the infrastructure around the drone's patrol path. One section of overhead piping was marked '[Pressurized Coolant Line (Minor Leak / Compromised Integrity)]'. [Weak Point Analysis] helpfully added: '[Vulnerable to Kinetic Impact]'.

An idea sparked. Risky, but potentially effective. He needed something to hit the pipe with. He looked around his immediate vicinity. Loose debris, chunks of corroded metal... yes. He spotted a detached piece of plating, about the size of his hand, lying near the wall. Not heavy, but maybe enough if thrown accurately. His DEX was decent now (11).

He waited for the drone to reach the furthest point of its erratic patrol, its red eye pointed away from him. Taking a deep breath, he darted forward, snatching the piece of metal plating. He estimated the trajectory, factored in the flickering light. As the drone turned back, clanking towards him, he hurled the metal shard upwards at the compromised coolant pipe directly above its path.

The throw was true. The shard struck the pipe with a sharp clang. For a second, nothing happened. Then, with a loud hiss, the pipe ruptured. A spray of super-cooled gas erupted downwards, engulfing the drone in a thick white cloud.

The drone screeched, a high-pitched digital wail of surprise and system shock. Its red eye flickered wildly within the freezing mist. Its movements became instantly sluggish, joints seizing, metal contracting audibly. The plasma cutter arm tried to activate, sputtering weakly before dying.

[System Notification]

[Malfunctioning Maintenance Drone afflicted with [Cryo Status Effect] - Movement Speed Severely Reduced, Energy Weapon Systems Offline.]

It worked. But the drone wasn't disabled, just slowed and partially disarmed. It was still trying to move, its legs scraping uselessly as the cryo-gas froze its magnetic pads to the floor. Its red eye fixed on Zero's position.

Now was his chance. He rushed forward, toolkit interface ready. He needed to disable it quickly before the cryo effect wore off or it managed to break free. The [Weak Point Analysis] overlay still highlighted the empty arm socket – '[Internal Access Point]'.

He reached the struggling drone, the freezing gas biting at his suit but causing no damage – yet. He focused, activating the [Data Spike] and targeting the empty socket.

[Attempting Interface Connection via Exposed Port...]

[Security Protocols Detected: Minimal (Damaged System)]

[INT Check Required: Difficulty 8] (Higher due to active interference)

[Rolling... User INT (15) vs Difficulty (8)... Success!]

[Connection Established. Root Access Granted (Damaged Core Logic).]

He was in. Lines of corrupted code and frantic error messages flooded his interface. He ignored the noise, searching for the core motor functions, the primary power relay. He found the command line for emergency shutdown. With a surge of focused intent, he executed the command.

[Executing Command: //Force_Shutdown_Override//...]

[Command Accepted.]

The drone shuddered violently one last time. Its red eye flickered and died. The struggling movements ceased. The clanking stopped. Silence returned to the tunnel, broken only by the fading hiss from the ruptured pipe.

[System Notification]

[Entity Defeated: Malfunctioning Maintenance Drone (Level 3)]

[Reward Granted: +75 EXP]

[Loot Generated: [Scrap Metal (Common) x3], [Damaged Servo (Uncommon) x1], [Corrupted Logic Chip (Rare) x1]]

[Current EXP: 75/200] [Level: 2]

Zero let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, adrenaline slowly receding. He'd done it. His first real kill in the Nexus. It wasn't elegant, relying on an environmental hazard and a lucky hack, but it worked. The satisfaction was immense, far exceeding the simple reward notifications. He felt competent again, capable. The rust was starting to flake off the Ghostrunner.

He automatically collected the loot, the items appearing as icons in his [INVENTORY]. Scrap metal was probably vendor trash. The servo might be useful for repairs or crafting later. But the [Corrupted Logic Chip]… that sounded interesting. Its quality was Rare, suggesting value or significance. He examined its description.

[Corrupted Logic Chip]

[Quality: Rare]

[Type: Data Fragment / Crafting Material]

[Description: A logic chip recovered from a heavily malfunctioning drone. Its core programming seems infected with an unknown algorithmic anomaly, causing erratic behavior and system conflicts. Contains fragmented data streams. May be decipherable by skilled Technomancers or yield unstable components if salvaged.]

Algorithmic anomaly. Infected programming. Just like the errors he saw on the legacy terminal. This was more evidence that something was fundamentally wrong within the Nexus's code. This chip might hold clues.

He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, looking at the defeated drone, now just inert metal covered in frost. He'd taken his first real steps off the beaten path, faced danger, used his skills – both old and new – and uncovered a potential mystery. This felt like the beginning of something.

But as the adrenaline faded, a new sensation crept in. A faint, almost imperceptible feeling of being watched. Not by physical eyes, but by the System itself. Was it the logged access attempt? The destruction of the drone? Or just paranoia? He couldn't be sure.

He pushed the feeling down. He had momentum. He needed to keep moving, keep exploring. Where did this tunnel lead? What other secrets, what other dangers, lay hidden in the Nexus's forgotten corners?

He glanced back the way he came, towards the shaft leading up to the bright, orderly Hub. Then he looked forward, down the dark tunnel past the defeated drone. The path ahead was unknown, potentially dangerous.

Just then, his interface pinged again. Not a System Notification, but a direct message, appearing as simple text overlaid on his vision, sender ID marked 'Unknown'.

[Message Received:]

[Subject: Observation]

[Body: Impressive improvisation, Zero. You navigate the unseen paths well. But be warned: some shadows bite back. Continue cautiously.]

Zero froze. Someone was watching him. Someone who knew his designation. Someone who wasn't the Oracle, judging by the tone. Friend? Foe? Or just another player in this complex game? The message offered no clues, only a cryptic warning and confirmation of his surveillance.

The feeling of unease intensified, mingling with the lingering excitement. He wasn't just exploring a game; he was stepping into a web of intrigue, where hidden eyes tracked his every move. The stakes felt suddenly higher. He looked down the dark tunnel again, then back at the message interface. Who sent this? And what did they want?