Myers ran.
His boots struck the uneven stone in rapid succession, the sound echoing through the narrow passage as he carried both boys away from the scene of their fight. The unconscious greenhaired boy lay across his left shoulder, his arms hanging limply down Myers's back, while Seventeen was tucked beneath his right arm, held around the stomach like a sack of grain.
Seventeen's feet pointed in the direction Myers was running, but his upper body hung behind him, leaving him staring at the tunnel they were leaving behind. His arms dangled toward the ground, swinging helplessly with every hurried step, and the constant jolting sent fresh pain through his ribs.
"Ugh..."
He tried to lift his head, but another sharp turn caused his body to swing against Myers's side. A strained groan escaped him as he instinctively attempted to curl inward, only to find that the arm pressed against his stomach prevented him from doing much of anything.
"Myers..."
"What?"
Seventeen swallowed. His throat felt painfully dry, and the pressure against his stomach made it difficult to draw a full breath.
"Why..."
Another step sent a sharp pain through his ribs.
"Why are you... running so fast?"
"Because of that little scuffle you two had."
Myers rounded another corner without slowing.
"The Faith's acolytes are probably already on their way. Assuming they aren't here yet."
Seventeen blinked.
"What?"
His head swayed with another step.
"What are you... talking about? How would they even know?"
"Did you happen to see anything strange light up on the walls while you were fighting?"
Seventeen frowned.
For a moment, he couldn't understand what Myers meant.
Then he remembered.
The stranger's hands glowing blue and green. The faint vibration beneath his feet. And farther along the wall, an old marking that had briefly illuminated before disappearing into the stone.
"Oh..."
He blinked.
"That little light?"
"Yes. That little light."
Myers adjusted the unconscious boy on his left shoulder, tilting his head slightly toward him.
"It's a mana detection rune. It reacts to the deliberate release of mana, and considering how many times this little bastard used his, I wouldn't be surprised if they sent a sizable task group down here."
Seventeen stared at the passage behind them.
"A task group?"
"Templars. Acolytes. Whatever they've got nearby and can spare."
Myers took another corner.
"They've probably already received the alert. Repeated activations in the same area aren't something they tend to ignore."
Seventeen swallowed.
"But... how?"
He tried drawing another breath, but his chest protested.
"How would they even know about this place?"
Myers gave a short, humorless laugh.
"Of course they know about this place."
He turned left, carrying both boys through a passage where the lanterns were becoming more frequent.
"The Faith knows about the markets, the smugglers, the Underring. They know what's being sold down here and who's buying it. Those runes weren't put there by accident."
"Then why..."
Seventeen struggled to gather enough breath to finish.
"Why don't they just arrest everyone?"
"Because it's easier to control them this way."
Myers stepped over a raised section of stone.
"Think about it. Would you rather have criminals scattered throughout an entire city, hiding in different houses and neighborhoods, or have most of them gathered in one place where you know exactly where to find them?"
Seventeen remained silent.
"Down here, they trade, fight, steal, and do whatever else they please. As long as they don't cause too much trouble aboveground, the Faith can afford to look the other way."
Myers's grip tightened slightly as he rounded another bend.
"But the moment someone starts using mana, they've got a reason to come down and tear the place apart. Confiscate goods, arrest whoever they want, and call the whole thing an operation to maintain order."
Seventeen listened to the steady pounding of Myers's boots.
"That's what those runes are for."
Myers continued.
"They're a warning system. And an excuse."
Seventeen lowered his eyes.
The explanation made sense.
At least part of it did.
But there was still something bothering him.
He wanted to ask another question, though the constant jolting against Myers's arm made it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the pain spreading through his ribs. His mouth had grown so dry that his tongue felt heavy, and even swallowing had become uncomfortable.
For several moments, he simply hung there, trying to breathe through the discomfort.
Then he finally opened his mouth.
"Then... why didn't you tell me?"
Myers snorted.
"Why would I?"
Seventeen blinked.
"You're manaless. What were you going to do, accidentally set one off?"
Another turn sent Seventeen swinging sideways.
"Guh!"
"And how was I supposed to know you'd get into a fight with someone who's stupid enough to use mana the moment I left you alone?"
Seventeen grimaced.
Myers sighed.
"Now we've got to get out of here before your little adventure gets us all arrested."
For several moments, neither spoke.
The sound of their footsteps continued echoing through the tunnels, joined now by the distant murmur of voices somewhere ahead.
Seventeen stared at the walls passing behind them.
His head felt heavy.
He wanted to close his eyes, even if only for a moment, but every time he began to relax, another jolt of pain reminded him of the position he was in.
Then another question surfaced.
"Then why..."
He swallowed.
"Why did that boy run so far?"
Myers didn't answer immediately.
Seventeen continued.
"He kept running. Even when we were away from everyone."
He paused to catch his breath.
"Why didn't he just fight me earlier?"
"Because if he'd used mana in the middle of that market, the people around him would've killed him."
Seventeen went still.
"What?"
"Think about it."
Myers adjusted his grip.
"Everyone down here knows what happens when those runes activate. Acolytes come marching in, merchants lose their goods, people get dragged away, and anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby gets caught in the mess."
He turned another corner.
"So if some idiot decides to start throwing mana around in the middle of a crowded market, the people there aren't going to stand around and wait for the Faith to arrive."
Seventeen stared at the stone floor passing beneath him.
"They'll deal with the problem themselves."
The words settled uncomfortably in his mind.
He remembered the dining area.
The shouting.
The overturned tables.
The customers stumbling over one another as the fighting spread.
Not one of them had used mana.
Not even when people were being struck or thrown to the ground.
And now that he thought about it, the merchants hadn't used it either.
The people selling weapons had displayed ordinary blades and tools. The cooks had kept their fires burning with wood beneath their pots, tending the flames by hand instead of heating anything with mana.
He hadn't questioned any of it.
Why would he?
He barely understood mana in the first place.
But now...
So that's why.
The green haired boy hadn't simply been running away from Seventeen.
He had been running away from everyone.
Trying to reach somewhere he could defend himself without being killed by the people around him.
Seventeen tried thinking back to the fight, but the memories were beginning to blur together.
The dining area.
The overturned tables.
The stranger running.
Himself chasing after him.
He remembered the anger he'd felt, the desperate need to catch the boy before he could report Morgan, but the longer he tried to piece everything together, the harder it became to concentrate.
A sudden jolt sent another sharp pain through his ribs.
Seventeen squeezed his eyes shut.
Damn it...
He waited for the pain to ease before opening them again.
The boy had still seen Morgan.
He might really have been planning to report her.
But the farther Seventeen chased him, the fewer choices the boy had left.
Seventeen's stomach tightened.
Before he could think any further, the voices ahead grew louder.
Myers rounded another corner.
The narrow passage opened into a broad, crowded section of the underground, and Seventeen immediately recognized the noise.
Merchants shouting over their stalls.
Customers arguing over prices.
The clatter of weapons and tools being handled.
They were back in the bazaar.
Seventeen lifted his head as much as he could, watching the crowded passage stretch away behind them while Myers hurried through the people ahead.
Several customers stepped aside as Myers approached, their conversations stopping as they noticed the two bloodied boys hanging from his arms.
A merchant crouched beside a blanket covered in knives and small metal objects. The moment Myers passed, the man pulled his goods closer, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Another merchant reached toward a wooden crate, placing one hand over its contents as Myers ran by.
Seventeen recognized the looks.
They were the same looks people had given him when he was chasing the green haired boy.
Suspicion.
Annoyance.
Concern that someone might steal something.
Myers didn't acknowledge any of them.
He continued running.
Then, without warning, he raised his voice.
"MANA FIGHT! TEMPLARS ARE COMING!"
The shout carried through the passage.
For an instant, nothing happened.
Seventeen watched the faces of the people behind them.
A merchant froze with a small bottle halfway between his hands.
A customer turned toward Myers, his expression shifting from irritation to confusion.
Someone farther back stopped speaking in the middle of a sentence.
Then the words seemed to register.
"The Templars?!"
"SHIT! PACK EVERYTHING UP!"
"Someone set off the runes!"
A merchant scrambled to his feet, knocking over the stool he'd been sitting on. He snatched a handful of merchandise from his stall and began shoving it into a sack, his hands moving so frantically that several items slipped through his fingers.
"HURRY UP, YOU IDIOTS! THEY'RE COMING!"
And suddenly, the entire market erupted into movement.
Merchants lunged toward their stalls, grabbing whatever they could carry. Those with blankets spread across the ground seized the corners of the cloth and pulled them together, wrapping their merchandise into makeshift sacks before throwing the bundles over their shoulders.
One man dragged a heavy crate across the stone, its contents rattling violently as he hurried toward a side passage.
Another abandoned his stall entirely, leaving several small objects scattered across the floor as he disappeared into the crowd.
Customers pushed past one another.
A hooded figure stumbled into a wooden stand, knocking several items onto the ground.
"HEY! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!"
The merchant lunged toward his scattered goods, but the figure had already disappeared into the crowd.
"GET BACK HERE, YOU-"
He stopped.
His eyes darted toward the people fleeing around him.
"Ah, screw it!"
Abandoning the scattered merchandise, he grabbed what remained on his stall and hurried after the others.
"MOVE! GET OUT OF THE DAMN WAY!"
A broad shouldered man shoved through the crowd, nearly knocking another merchant off his feet.
"WE'RE ALL TRYING TO GET OUT, YOU BASTARD!"
"THEN MOVE FASTER!"
A group of people rushed toward one passage, only to collide with another group attempting to escape in the opposite direction.
The shouting grew louder.
The once orderly rows of merchandise began disappearing beneath hurriedly folded blankets and overturned crates.
Seventeen watched it all from beneath Myers's arm.
He tried lifting his head to get a better look, but the effort sent another wave of dizziness through him.
He let it hang again.
The shouting around him seemed strangely distant, as though the voices were coming from somewhere much farther away.
For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes.
But the constant movement made it impossible to rest.
The chaos spread outward, following the warning from stall to stall as people repeated what they had heard.
"Templars!"
"Raid!"
"Get out!"
Within moments, the market that had been crowded with merchants and customers was beginning to empty.
Not in one direction.
But in every direction.
People split apart at intersections, vanished through narrow doorways, and disappeared into passages Seventeen hadn't even noticed before.
Myers kept running.
Seventeen turned his head as far as he could, watching a merchant drag his bundled wares across the ground before disappearing around a corner.
"Myers..."
"What?"
"Why'd you... tell them?"
Myers stepped around an overturned crate.
"Tell them what?"
"That the Templars are coming."
Seventeen swallowed.
"Wouldn't it be easier... if we just ran?"
"No."
Myers didn't hesitate.
"The more people running, the more people the Templars have to chase."
Seventeen blinked.
"What?"
"They can't follow everyone at once. If the whole market starts scattering through every passage they can find, the Templars will have to split their forces."
Myers rounded another corner.
"And the fewer of them there are in one place, the easier it is for us to get out."
Seventeen looked back.
The crowd was still scattering.
Merchants carrying sacks.
Customers shoving through narrow passages.
People shouting warnings to others farther down the market.
Myers had turned the entire bazaar into a distraction.
Seventeen wasn't sure whether to be impressed or frightened.
Probably both.
The noise of the bazaar gradually faded behind them.
Myers continued through the connecting tunnels, moving quickly enough that Seventeen's body swayed with every turn.
The lanterns became fewer again.
The stone walls grew darker.
And for several moments, the only sound was Myers's breathing and the steady pounding of his boots.
Then something boomed in the distance.
BOOM!
Seventeen flinched.
The sound rolled through the tunnels, followed by a faint metallic clatter.
Myers didn't react.
He kept running.
A moment later, another impact echoed from somewhere behind them.
BOOM!
This time, Seventeen heard shouting.
Several voices.
Too distant to understand, but loud enough that he could distinguish them from the ordinary noise of the bazaar.
Then came the unmistakable sound of metal striking metal.
CLANG!
Seventeen lifted his head.
They're here.
The realization made his chest tighten.
He listened as the distant shouting grew louder, then faded again when Myers rounded another corner.
More footsteps echoed through the underground.
Some running.
Others moving in groups.
Seventeen couldn't tell where they were coming from.
Myers continued without speaking.
Then Seventeen remembered something.
His eyes widened.
"Morgan!"
Myers glanced down.
"What?"
"Morgan and Rheo!"
Seventeen struggled against Myers's grip, trying to lift his head enough to look at him.
"Where... where are they?"
Myers sighed.
"They're already out."
Seventeen froze.
"What?"
"I found somewhere for them to stay."
Myers rounded another corner.
"They're safe for now. I came back looking for you."
Seventeen stared.
For several moments, he didn't know what to say.
Myers had already gotten Morgan and Rheo out.
He had returned to the underground because Seventeen hadn't come back.
Because Seventeen had chased the stranger.
Because he'd gotten into another fight.
Seventeen slowly lowered his head.
He could still hear the distant shouting.
The clatter of metal.
The pounding footsteps.
And somewhere farther behind them, another muffled explosion.
Myers adjusted his grip around Seventeen's stomach.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get the three of us out of here before something else happens."
Seventeen opened his mouth.
He wanted to say something.
An apology, perhaps.
Or maybe ask why Myers had bothered coming back for him.
But the words wouldn't come.
His throat felt raw, and the thought of speaking again seemed almost as exhausting as trying to lift his own body.
Before he could decide what to say, a deafening impact erupted somewhere ahead of Myers.
BOOOOM!
The tunnel shook.
Dust scattered from the ceiling.
Seventeen flinched as Myers suddenly shortened his stride.
He twisted his head toward the sound.
A broad passage intersected theirs just ahead, cutting across from left to right.
Something enormous came hurtling out of the left hand tunnel.
For a fraction of a second, Seventeen couldn't tell what it was.
Then he saw the fur.
A massive, fur covered body flew across the intersection, its limbs twisting helplessly as it passed directly in front of Myers. Its head hung at an unnatural angle, and dark blood scattered from its mouth as it struck the opposite wall.
THUD!
Stone cracked beneath the impact.
The body dropped heavily to the ground, leaving a dark smear across the wall.
Myers had slowed just enough to avoid the enormous figure as it flew past, but he didn't stop. The moment the passage cleared, he continued running, seemingly uninterested in whatever had just happened.
Seventeen, however, couldn't help himself.
What the hell was that?!
As they crossed the intersection, he quickly twisted his head toward the right hand passage, trying to catch a glimpse of what had thrown the creature.
Four figures.
That was all he initially managed to make out.
They wore long ceremonial garments beneath pieces of pale armor, their clothing marked with unfamiliar symbols. One stood over a fallen figure, while two others were striking someone who had already collapsed against the wall. The fourth stood farther back, facing the enormous body that had just been thrown.
Acolytes.
Seventeen's eyes widened.
He barely had time to register what he was seeing before one of the figures turned.
Their eyes met.
For a split second, Seventeen caught the man's expression as his attention shifted from the fallen bodies before him to Myers carrying two bloodied boys through the intersection.
Then the passage disappeared from view.
Myers had already carried them past.
Seventeen twisted his head farther, trying to look back.
TWING!
TWING!
The sharp sounds echoed through the tunnel.
Four figures burst out of the intersection behind them.
They were running.
Not with the heavy, uneven strides of ordinary people trying to catch someone.
Their movements were unnaturally fast, their bodies leaning forward as they accelerated through the passage.
Seventeen's eyes widened.
They're coming after us!
The acolytes' clothing fluttered behind them as they ran, and a faint yellowish white light began gathering around their bodies.
At first, it was little more than a thin shimmer.
Then it grew brighter.
The light clung to their arms and legs, outlining their movements with a pale, almost holy glow.
Seventeen felt something.
A faint pressure.
A strange vibration that seemed to pass through the air and settle against his skin.
He recognized it.
It was the same sensation he had felt when the green haired boy activated his mana.
Mana.
The realization struck him as the acolytes continued gaining ground.
Their bodies were glowing with mana.
Myers heard the sudden rush of footsteps behind him.
He twisted his upper body just enough to glance over his shoulder.
His eyes narrowed.
"Goddamnit."
He immediately quickened his pace.
The acolytes followed.
One raised an arm.
A streak of pale light shot down the corridor.
Seventeen barely had time to react before Myers shifted sideways.
The light passed beside them and struck the wall.
FWIP!
BANG!
Stone fragments scattered across the passage.
Another acolyte extended his hand.
A second streak followed.
FWIP!
Myers ducked beneath it without slowing.
BANG!
The projectile struck the ceiling farther ahead, showering the passage with dust.
Seventeen flinched as small pieces of stone bounced against his back.
Another streak of light flashed past.
Then another.
FWIP!
FWIP!
Myers moved left.
Then right.
His movements were sharp and controlled, each adjustment narrowly avoiding the incoming attacks.
The acolytes continued running, their yellowish white mana growing brighter as they pressed forward.
Seventeen twisted his head, watching them.
Then something caught his attention.
The walls.
The old markings carved into the stone.
He could see several of them as Myers ran past.
But none were glowing.
Seventeen blinked.
Wait...
The green haired boy's mana had caused one of those markings to light up.
Myers had said the runes detected the deliberate release of mana.
Yet the acolytes were using it openly.
They were running faster with it.
Attacking with it.
And the runes weren't reacting.
Why aren't they...?
He didn't have time to finish the thought.
One of the acolytes suddenly grew brighter.
The yellowish white light around his body intensified, spreading across his shoulders and arms until his entire figure seemed almost indistinguishable beneath the glow.
Then he accelerated.
Seventeen's breath caught.
The distance between them vanished.
The acolyte surged forward so quickly that Seventeen barely registered the movement.
One moment, the figure was several yards behind them.
The next, he was close enough for Seventeen to see the individual folds in his clothing.
Then a white gloved hand appeared in front of his face.
Seventeen froze.
He hadn't even seen the man reach for him.
The acolyte's shoulder was thrust forward, his body stretched into a desperate lunge as he reached toward the boy hanging beneath Myers's arm.
His fingers opened.
Then began to close.
Seventeen stared at the white glove.
The fingertips were only inches away.
He could see the seams running along the fabric, the slight bend of each finger as the hand prepared to seize his face.
He tried to pull away.
But his body was still trapped beneath Myers's arm.
There was nowhere to go.
The hand came closer.
One finger stretched toward his eye.
As it got closer, it was suddenly all he could see.
Seventeen's heart hammered.
No.
Then something changed.
The air shifted.
A strange pressure seized his body, and the world around him began to distort.
The acolyte's fingers seemed to grow larger.
But something was wrong.
His hand was still reaching toward Seventeen's face, yet the rest of his body seemed to be pulling away.
His arm stretched across Seventeen's vision, the distance between his fingertips and shoulder becoming impossibly long.
The tunnel behind him narrowed.
The walls blurred.
And the acolyte began shrinking into the distance.
VWOOM!
Seventeen's entire body lurched.
The hand vanished.
For an instant, he couldn't understand what had happened.
The acolyte was gone.
The others were gone.
Then, somewhere far behind them-
BOOOOM!
The sound tore through the tunnel, rolling after them as Myers continued accelerating.
Seventeen's stomach twisted violently.
The air rushed past his face with such force that he couldn't draw a proper breath.
His cheeks pulled forward.
His eyes watered.
And the pressure against his chest grew so intense that he could barely move.
He opened his mouth.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Only a thin, useless gasp escaped him.
I can't breathe.
His injured ribs screamed beneath the pressure, and for a moment, Seventeen couldn't tell whether the pain was coming from Myers's grip or from somewhere inside his chest.
He tried tightening his stomach, hoping to brace himself against the movement.
But his muscles barely responded.
He had nothing left.
Not enough strength to struggle.
Not enough strength to pull away.
All he could do was hang there and endure it.
The walls blurred past.
Myers turned.
Seventeen's body swung violently sideways, his injured ribs protesting as the sudden change in direction forced him against Myers's arm.
His head snapped to the side, and he felt the ends of his hair brush against the stone wall.
Another turn followed almost immediately.
Then another.
The tunnel twisted around them.
The scattered lanterns became little more than brief flashes of orange swallowed by the darkness.
Seventeen couldn't tell where they were anymore.
He couldn't even tell whether they were still following the same passage.
His body seemed to be pulled in several directions at once.
Left.
Right.
Left again.
The rushing air filled his ears.
His head spun.
He tried to look behind them, but the movement only made his vision blur further.
There was nothing there.
No acolytes.
No glowing figures.
No pursuing footsteps.
Just darkness stretching away behind them.
Then Seventeen noticed another light.
It shimmered along the edge of his vision, reflecting against the stone walls as they rushed past.
White.
A brilliant, almost pure white.
Different from the yellowish glow surrounding the acolytes.
Seventeen struggled to turn his eyes toward it.
The light was coming from Myers.
It surrounded his body in a thin, brilliant layer, streaming backward in long, wavering trails as he continued running.
Seventeen stared.
Myers...?
Another sharp turn sent his body swinging sideways.
His stomach lurched.
The pressure against his lungs grew worse.
He tried to inhale again.
His chest barely moved.
For a moment, panic threatened to overwhelm him.
Then, gradually, the brightness began to weaken.
The white trails shortened.
The walls regained their shape.
The rushing air became less violent.
And the strange pressure against Seventeen's body began to ease.
The light disappeared.
Seventeen gasped.
Air flooded his lungs so suddenly that he began coughing.
His body convulsed against Myers's arm, and every breath sent sharp pain through his injured ribs.
But he could breathe.
He sucked in another breath.
Then another.
The cold underground air felt almost painfully refreshing as it filled his chest.
Myers was still running.
Not at the impossible speed from before, but quickly enough that the stone walls continued passing in a steady blur.
Seventeen tried to lift his head.
His vision swam.
He managed to raise it a few inches before the muscles in his neck gave out, leaving his head hanging once more.
His entire body felt heavy.
Even his arms, which had been dangling uselessly beneath him, seemed to have grown too heavy to move.
He wanted to ask Myers what had happened.
But the thought of speaking made his throat ache.
So he remained silent.
He looked behind them.
Nothing.
The acolytes were gone.
He couldn't hear their footsteps.
Couldn't see their lights.
Couldn't even tell how far they had traveled.
What the hell was that?!
Myers said nothing.
He continued running, though his breathing had grown noticeably heavier.
For a moment, the arm wrapped around Seventeen's stomach trembled before tightening again.
Myers adjusted his grip without slowing.
The passages grew quieter.
Seventeen could hear only Myers's footsteps and his own ragged breathing.
The white light was completely gone now.
Whatever Myers had done, it had stopped.
But he showed no sign of resting.
He turned left.
Then right.
Passed through a long corridor where the walls were damp and the air smelled faintly of stagnant water.
Seventeen watched the stone slide past, trying to recognize anything familiar.
He couldn't.
His body ached so badly that he had stopped trying to adjust his position. Every movement seemed to aggravate something, and the lingering dizziness made it difficult to keep his eyes focused.
Myers took another turn.
Then stopped.
Seventeen felt the sudden halt through his entire body.
His head dipped forward.
For a moment, he thought the acolytes had caught up.
He weakly raised his eyes.
Myers was looking upward.
Seventeen frowned.
What?
He tried to follow his gaze.
The ceiling stretched across the passage above them, its surface rough and uneven. Several thin cracks ran between the stones, disappearing into the darkness farther along the corridor.
There was nothing unusual about it.
At least nothing Seventeen could see.
Myers shifted his footing.
Then crouched.
Seventeen's eyes widened.
Wait.
The muscles in Myers's legs tightened.
Seventeen barely had time to realize what was happening.
Myers jumped.
The ground vanished beneath them.
Seventeen's stomach dropped.
The stone walls rushed downward on either side, and the ceiling above them grew closer with terrifying speed.
His eyes widened.
We're going to hit it!
He instinctively lowered his head.
The stone was only a few feet away.
Then inches.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
But the impact never came.
Instead, something cool passed over his face.
A strange sensation swept across his skin, like plunging through a thin curtain of mist. For an instant, the darkness around him seemed to ripple, and the pressure against his body shifted in a way he couldn't explain.
Then it was gone.
Seventeen opened his eyes.
They were outside.
An alleyway stretched between two rows of buildings, its walls rising toward a narrow strip of open sky.
Seventeen stared upward.
The sky.
He could actually see the sky.
After so long beneath the city, the sight seemed almost unreal.
The air was different too. Cooler, fresher, carrying faint traces of smoke and distant cooking fires instead of the damp, stale smell of the underground.
Myers landed.
His boots struck the ground with a heavy thud.
Seventeen flinched, expecting another painful impact, but Myers absorbed most of the landing and immediately steadied himself.
For a moment, Seventeen could only stare at the alleyway.
How did we...?
He looked down.
Then up again.
There was no opening in the ground.
No ladder.
No staircase.
Nothing that explained how they had emerged from beneath the city.
The stone ceiling they had been approaching was gone.
As though it had never existed.
Myers didn't give him time to examine anything.
He turned.
Not toward either end of the alley.
But toward the building directly behind them.
A plain wooden door stood in the wall.
It looked like the entrance to an ordinary house.
The wood was worn, its surface marked by scratches and years of exposure, and a small iron handle protruded from the right side.
Myers approached it.
Seventeen watched him reach for the handle.
Why are we stopping here?
Myers opened the door.
Then stepped inside.
They entered a narrow hallway.
Wooden walls stretched along either side, interrupted by several closed doors. The ceiling was low, and a weak light filtered through a small window near the far end.
The floor creaked beneath Myers's boots.
Seventeen looked around.
Nothing seemed unusual.
It was just a house.
A rather plain one.
Myers continued forward.
He reached the end of the hallway, turned right, and opened another door.
Seventeen expected a room.
Instead, another hallway stretched ahead.
He blinked.
The walls looked familiar.
The same wood.
The same low ceiling.
Even the arrangement of the doors seemed strangely similar.
Didn't we just...?
Myers walked through without hesitation.
He turned left.
Opened another door.
Another hallway.
Seventeen stared.
This one was almost identical too.
He tried to remember the turns they had taken.
Right.
Then left.
Or had there been another turn before that?
His head was still spinning from the sudden burst of speed, and the pain in his ribs made concentrating difficult.
Myers approached another door.
Opened it.
Turned right.
Seventeen watched the walls pass around them.
This looks the same.
He glanced behind them.
The doorway they had just passed through stood open, revealing another stretch of wooden hallway.
He could have sworn he had seen that exact arrangement before.
Myers stopped.
Seventeen looked up.
Then Myers turned around.
And walked back through the same door they had just entered.
Seventeen stared.
What?
He twisted his head, expecting to see the previous hallway.
But something was wrong.
The walls were farther apart.
A small table stood against one side.
The window that should have been near the end of the passage was gone.
Seventeen blinked repeatedly.
That doesn't make sense.
He looked behind them again.
The doorway was still there.
But the hallway beyond it wasn't the same.
Myers continued.
Right.
Left.
Through another door.
Then another.
At one point, he opened a door, looked through it, and closed it again.
Seventeen frowned.
Myers waited a moment.
Then reopened it.
And stepped through.
The room beyond was different.
Seventeen's mouth fell slightly open.
What the hell?
He tried to follow the changes.
He really did.
But every time he thought he understood the path, Myers did something that made it impossible.
Sometimes he turned left and entered a hallway that looked identical to the one they had just left.
Sometimes he turned right and emerged somewhere completely different.
And sometimes he simply turned around and walked back through a doorway, only for the space beyond it to change.
Seventeen looked at the walls.
Then the floor.
Then the ceiling.
He tried to focus on the details, searching for anything that might explain what was happening, but his eyes refused to settle on any one thing for long.
There were no obvious signs of mana.
No bright lights.
No strange symbols that he could recognize.
Nothing.
Just doors.
Hallways.
And Myers moving through them as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Are we going in circles?
He tried to remember the first hallway.
The one they had entered from the alley.
But he couldn't even tell whether they were still in the same building.
The floorboards creaked beneath Myers's feet.
Another door opened.
Another hallway.
Seventeen let his head rest against Myers's shoulder.
His eyes remained half open, struggling to follow the passing walls.
He had stopped trying to count the turns.
There was no point.
Even if he wanted to, he wasn't sure he could remember them anymore.
His thoughts had become sluggish, and every time he tried to concentrate, another wave of exhaustion threatened to pull him into unconsciousness.
Myers, meanwhile, never hesitated.
Whatever strange rules governed these passages, he seemed to understand them well enough to navigate without difficulty.
Finally, they reached another door.
This one stood at the end of a particularly narrow passage.
Myers approached it.
Reached for the handle.
And stopped.
Seventeen weakly lifted his head.
For a moment, Myers remained still.
Then he turned the handle.
The door opened.
Seventeen expected another hallway.
Instead, an enormous open space appeared before him.
He stared.
They had entered a warehouse.
The ceiling rose high overhead, supported by thick wooden beams that disappeared into the shadows. Long stretches of empty floor extended in every direction, interrupted only by a few scattered crates, covered equipment, and abandoned pieces of furniture.
The building was almost completely empty.
Their footsteps echoed as Myers stepped inside, the sound traveling across the vast interior before fading into the distance.
Seventeen slowly turned his head.
He looked toward the doorway behind them.
Then toward the warehouse.
How...?
The narrow hallway was still visible beyond the open door.
A small wooden passage leading into an enormous building that seemed far too large to fit beside the rooms they had just passed through.
Seventeen blinked.
His head hurt.
He couldn't tell whether the strange house had somehow led them across the city or whether they had been moving through something that wasn't a normal building at all.
Myers walked farther inside.
The unconscious boy remained draped over his shoulder, while Seventeen hung against his side, too exhausted to do anything but watch.
For several moments, Myers said nothing.
His eyes moved across the enormous warehouse, searching the shadows between the scattered crates.
Then he lifted his head.
"ROLAND! I'M HERE!"