I didn’t think.

  I pushed off with my legs and slipped into the crevice.

  The arrow had vanished, replaced by a soft blue glow just a few meters ahead.

  Like a will-o’-the-wisp.

  I followed it.

  Not really knowing why.

  The inside was narrow at first.

  Metal scraped against my shoulders. Old cables brushed past my helmet.

  Thin beams of light filtered through cracks in the walls, revealing inscriptions eaten away by salt.

  The deeper I went, the more intact the structure seemed—

  but the silence was heavy.

  Not the silence of ruin…

  but of something ancient.

  Preserved.

  Tense.

  And then I saw it.

  At the center of a small chamber, resting as if it had been waiting for me—

  a spherical object, half-buried in the wall.

  Metallic. Smooth. Etched with faint black veins.

  It gave off a dim, pulsing glow.

  No bigger than a clenched fist.

  Just above it, a faded metal plaque:

  “SIRENIUM CORE – MK.I”

  Sirenium?

  I’d never heard the word before.

  But judging by the way it was hidden—

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  and preserved—

  this thing wasn’t ordinary.

  Something in me said to take it.

  The system had brought me here for a reason.

  I reached out and unlatched it carefully.

  It was still locked into a magnetic cradle, but showed no signs of corrosion.

  The moment I pulled it free—

  The ground shook beneath me.

  A sharp crack echoed through the chamber.

  Then another. Deeper.

  The sound of metal twisting.

  Supports giving way.

  I swam back instinctively.

  Chunks of ceiling broke loose, missing my face by inches.

  The crevice was collapsing.

  I didn’t wait.

  I turned and bolted through the tight passageway, swimming fast.

  The walls were vibrating.

  Black silt rose in clouds around me.

  Behind me, I heard a beam snap.

  Then a full section of the tunnel gave in with a muffled boom.

  I kept moving, arms stretched forward, lungs burning, heart pounding like a drumline in my skull.

  A light.

  The exit.

  I kicked toward it as hard as I could, body screaming, limbs heavy, the pack on my back pulling me down.

  My lungs were about to give out.

  My head was spinning.

  Just a little more—

  A few more meters—

  And I broke the surface.

  Air rushed into my mouth with a ragged gasp.

  I surfaced hard, dragged upward by my own buoyancy, throat burning, muscles clenched.

  I was breathing.

  Fast.

  Rough.

  But I was breathing.

  And I was alive.

  I looked down at my pack.

  Still there.

  The core.

  I had completed my first mission.

  And nearly died doing it.