Into the Abyss: The Rise of the Malevolent Player

Chapter 10: The Cost of Survival

Aiden’s POV

The tunnels felt like they were closing in, the dim light of emergency panels flickering as we ran. Behind us, the distant sound of explosions and gunfire reverberated like a death knell.

My breath came in shallow gasps, every step a battle against exhaustion and fear. Kara was ahead of me, her portable terminal strapped to her arm, scanning for safe paths.

“Left here!” Kara shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. “This route connects to the old maintenance corridors.”

“How sure are you about that?” I asked, skidding as I turned the corner.

She glanced back, smirking despite the tension. “About fifty-fifty.”

“Comforting,” I muttered, following her into the darkness.

The resistance team moved as a unit, but the weight of Zane’s absence hung over us like a storm cloud. He wasn’t just a leader; he was our anchor. Without him, every decision felt like a gamble I couldn’t afford to lose.

“Aiden,” Kara said, slowing her pace to fall in step beside me. “You okay?”

I shot her a glare. “Do I look okay? Zane’s back there, bleeding out or worse, and we’re running blind through enemy territory.”

Her eyes softened, just for a moment. “We’ll make it out. But you’ve got to keep it together. They’re looking to you now.”

She motioned toward the rest of the group, their expressions a mix of fear and desperation. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Leadership wasn’t a choice anymore—it was survival.

The air grew colder as we descended deeper into the labyrinth of maintenance corridors. The hum of machinery was omnipresent, like the heartbeat of The Abyss itself. My neural implant tingled, a faint static buzz that made my vision flicker at the edges.

Then it happened again.

For a split second, the corridor shifted. The rusted metal walls became glass, reflecting endless skies and cities that stretched beyond the horizon. My head spun, the overlay too vivid, too real.

“Aiden?” Kara’s voice snapped me back. She was watching me, concern etched into her features.

“I’m fine,” I lied, shaking my head. “Let’s keep moving.”

But I wasn’t fine. The lines between The Abyss and reality were blurring, and I couldn’t tell if it was Malrik’s doing or something far worse.

We emerged into a vast chamber, its high ceilings disappearing into darkness. In the center stood an ancient machine, its design alien compared to the utilitarian architecture around it. The group hesitated, uneasy whispers filling the air.

“What is this place?” Kara asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“A bypass hub,” I said, recognizing the structure from old schematics. “If we can power it up, it might give us access to a safe zone.”

“Or it could alert every Crimson Hand operative in the area,” Kara countered.

I hesitated, weighing the risks. Before I could decide, a figure stepped out of the shadows.

At first, I thought it was one of Malrik’s soldiers. But as the figure came closer, I realized it wasn’t human. The NPC’s design was eerily lifelike, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

“You shouldn’t be here,” it said, its voice calm and measured.

The team raised their weapons, but I held up a hand. “Wait. It’s... not hostile.”

“Not yet,” Kara muttered, keeping her gun trained on the NPC.

I stepped forward, my pulse racing. “Who are you?”

The NPC tilted its head. “A messenger. Mila programmed me to find you, Aiden Cross.”

The mention of Mila’s name sent a jolt through me. “Mila? What are you talking about?”

It held out a small, crystalline shard. “This contains her last recorded memories. She entrusted it to me in case you reached this point.”

I hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. Kara moved closer, her expression wary.

“This could be a trap,” she said. “Malrik’s AI could be using Mila’s image to manipulate you.”

The NPC’s gaze shifted to her. “Doubt is a weapon he wields well. But the truth is a blade that cuts deeper.”

“Enough riddles,” I snapped, reaching for the shard. As my fingers closed around it, a surge of energy coursed through me, and for a brief moment, I saw Mila.

She was standing in a field of white flowers, her face serene but tinged with sadness. “Aiden,” her voice whispered, as clear as if she were beside me. “I’m sorry.”

The vision faded as quickly as it came, leaving me breathless.

“What did you see?” Kara asked, her tone sharp.

“Mila,” I said, clutching the shard. “She... she’s in The Abyss. Or part of her is.”

Before Kara could respond, a distant roar echoed through the chamber. Crimson Hand forces were closing in.

“We need to move,” Kara said, pulling me toward the far exit.

“No,” I said, turning back to the NPC. “You said Mila left this for me. What else do you know?”

The NPC’s expression didn’t change, but its voice grew urgent. “The shard contains vital data. But if you stay here, you will not survive. The choice is yours.”

The next few minutes were a blur. We fled through winding corridors, the shard burning like a brand in my hand. The air was thick with tension, every sound amplified by the silence that followed.

“We’re not going to make it,” one of the team members muttered, panic creeping into his voice.

“Yes, we will,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.

Then, just as the exit came into view, the walls around us exploded. Crimson Hand operatives poured in from all sides, their weapons trained on us.

“Go!” Kara shouted, firing at the nearest soldier.

I hesitated, my mind racing. The shard, Mila’s memories, the resistance—it all felt like too much. But there was no time to think. I raised my gun and fired, the recoil jolting me back into focus.

“This way!” Kara called, leading the group into another tunnel.

The sounds of battle faded as we ran, but my heart didn’t stop pounding. The shard was still in my hand, its surface glowing faintly.

And Mila’s final words echoed in my mind: “The Catalyst must decide.”