Chapter 7, Part 2: Into the Gut of the City
The city above was gold-tipped towers and open plazas.
The city below was rusted pipes, blackwater trickles, and walls carved from rot.
This was not a place of citizens.
This was where infrastructure went to die.
Lio walked in silence. Blade hidden under his coat. His posture, elegant even here, felt wrong among the grime—but he never slipped, never hesitated.
Brix moved through the tunnels like he'd grown up under them. Boots echoing with controlled purpose. Every time his shoulder brushed a pipe, the metal hissed with leftover heat.
Mav, meanwhile, glided more than walked. His eyes constantly flicked side to side—not in fear, but analysis. His fingers brushed the walls with faint curiosity.
"It's like the city vomited," he muttered. "And never cleaned up."
"Fitting," Lio said softly, "if we're here to find hunger."
They reached the stairwell first.
It wasn't a proper staircase—just a spiral of iron rungs bolted to a dripping stone shaft.
Brix went first.
Mav last.
[System Alert: Proximity Match – 22% Match to GLUTTONY]
[Candidate Mental State: Disoriented. Aura Uncontrolled.]
[Warning: Environmental Bleed Detected – Organic Matter Decay at 143%]
[Notes: Candidate hoarding expired food in radii. Not consuming.]
When they reached Sector 09, the smell hit first.
Not rot.
Not death.
Something worse.
Waste. Unfulfilled waste. Like someone had been collecting everything left behind—and refusing to let it go.
The tunnels here were stacked with garbage. Not filth—meals. Wrapped. Unopened. Decayed, but arranged neatly. As if the person here had been saving it.
Or worshipping it.
Mav stopped short.
"What in hellfire…"
A small rusted fork clattered from above and landed in front of them.
The echo didn't fade.
It spread.
Like it bounced off walls that weren't there.
"He's down here," Brix said. "I can feel him."
[GLUTTONY Sync Spike – 39%]
[Hostile Signatures Nearby – Red Sigil Combat Unit: Confirmed. Entering from Tunnel Branch E-9.]
Lio's blade left its sheath with no sound at all.
"They're closing."
Brix nodded.
"I'll take them."
"No," Lio said. "We'll take them."
Mav cracked his neck. "Let me distract. You two strike."
The System whispered:
[Target Location: 37 meters west. Aura flaring.]
[Candidate mentally unstable. Speech recorded: "Don't take it. Don't take it. Not mine. Not mine."]
They broke formation.
In the shadows behind the trash, someone whimpered.
A boy.
Thin.
Rag-wrapped. Grease on his hands. A tangle of bones in the shape of someone who had never been full.
He didn't eat.
He guarded.
Around him were packets, old tins, uncooked bread, dried meat too old to swallow.
And his hands kept moving.
Touching.
Tucking.
Hiding.
"If they take it, I'll forget what full is."
"Can't lose it. Can't lose it again."
Behind him, the Sigil agents stepped silently through the rot.
Weapons drawn.
No mercy.
No warnings.
Only extraction.
And then—
So did fire.
So did steel.
So did Lust.