The sudden flash of light sliced through the darkness, temporarily blinding Andy as it swung into view. He squinted, pressing himself deeper into the alcove, trying to make himself as small as possible. The light moved erratically, sweeping past his hiding spot, but the sound of footsteps and harsh voices soon followed.

  "Are you sure this is the right way?" one man barked, his voice sharp and filled with frustration.

  "Of course it’s the right way," the other man snapped back. "I know this place like the back of my hand. You just need to trust me."

  The first man scoffed, the sound of his boots scraping against the floor echoing down the corridor. "Trust you? You’re the one who got us lost."

  Andy’s heart raced as he carefully listened from his hidden spot. The tension between the two men was palpable, their voices growing louder and more heated with every exchange. He could hear the desperation in their words, the realization that they were in unfamiliar territory—and that, out here, being lost was a dangerous proposition.

  "Look, we can’t just keep wandering around," the first man growled. "We’ve been down here too long already. This place is crawling with god-knows-what. We should’ve turned back hours ago."

  “You think I don’t know that?” the second man shot back, his voice growing more defensive.

  Andy kept his breath shallow, staying perfectly still. The light moved erratically again, briefly catching the edges of his hiding spot. He held his breath, hoping they wouldn’t notice the small shift in the shadows.

  The voices became more heated, and Andy could hear the rapid shuffle of footsteps as the argument escalated. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. He wasn’t sure how much longer they would continue to argue, but the longer it went on, the more chance they had of attracting attention from anything else lurking in the depths of the underground.

  "I told you to take the left turn," the first man snapped, "but you went right. And now we’re stuck in some goddamn maze, and you still can’t admit you were wrong."

  "I wasn’t wrong!" the second man shouted, his voice rising in frustration. "You just don’t understand how this place works. I know the way. Just—"

  Before the second man could finish his sentence, the sharp sound of a gunshot cut through the air, echoing in the narrow corridor.

  Andy’s heart nearly stopped as the sound reverberated through the walls, the sharp crack of the pistol freezing him in place. His eyes went wide, and he instinctively shrank back even further into the alcove, his pulse racing in his ears. The man’s voice, now cold and grim, followed the gunshot.

  "Told you you were wrong. And now I’m right. Huh”

  The soft thud of a body hitting the ground interrupted the brief silence, followed by the distant sound of movement. The second man—now dead—lay somewhere in the dark, and the first man muttered something under his breath.

  Andy’s mind raced. He had just witnessed murder. He didn’t know who these men were, but he knew one thing for certain: this was a dangerous place. And now, in the shooting’s wake, he had to be even more cautious. The man with the gun—he wasn’t just lost down here, he will kill.

  Andy held his breath, his body tense and alert, listening for any signs of movement. The light flickered again, and the man muttered something to himself as he holstered his weapon.

  "Let’s keep moving," he muttered, his voice grim but resolute. "No time to dwell."

  And then the sound of heavy footsteps resumed, growing quieter as the man continued down the tunnel, the light flashing intermittently as he moved further into the dark.

  Andy remained perfectly still, his heart still pounding in his chest. The smell of blood was thick in the air, and the weight of what had just happened pressed down on him. He knew he had to stay hidden, but his mind was racing, thinking about what had just occurred and what it meant for his journey through the underground. Things were escalating, and there was no telling what else he might encounter down here.

  Andy took a deep breath, forcing his heart to slow as the light flickered back on. The glow from his small flashlight illuminated the surrounding space, casting long shadows across the rough, unfamiliar terrain. His eyes immediately settled on the body of the man, now clearly visible under the harsh beam. The blood had already darkened, pooling around the fallen figure, staining the floor and the rugged fabric of the man’s clothes.

  The throes of sudden death contorted the man’s face; his expression was frozen in an unrecognizable mask of pain and surprise. Andy swallowed hard, the sight of it unsettling him more than he’d care to admit. The faint, acrid scent of blood mixed with the stale underground air, and his stomach churned.

  Despite the discomfort and moral unease that gnawed at him, Andy knew he had to proceed. His pulse quickened as he kneeled down beside the body, trying to push aside the sick feeling that clung to him. There was no time for hesitation. The underground was dangerous—worse now, with the murderer still out there—and he needed what he could find.

  He methodically searched the man’s pockets. The first item he pulled out was a matchbox, the label reading “Nexus Bar.” It was a name he knew, a place notorious for its shady dealings and questionable clientele. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket with little thought, then moved on.

  His fingers brushed something harder next—an energy pistol. Andy held it up, blinking at the simple, yet effective weapon. This tool, designed for use against bio-mutants, was a familiar type, yet it carried an unusual weight. It was more than just an object; it was a reminder of the dangers of the world outside. A necessary evil.

  His fingers instinctively tightened around the pistol’s grip. He felt an odd, almost instinctual connection with it, as though it were an extension of himself. It was the feeling he couldn’t quite explain—something that had begun when he first started working with machines, with components—almost as if he could sense the purpose of the object. He didn’t question it, but the sensation was enough to make him pause before he continued.

  I need this, he thought, reminding himself of how often he had to scavenge for parts and resources, how everything down here was a constant fight for survival. I can’t let this opportunity slip.

  His stomach twisted as the weight of what he was doing hit him. Taking something from a dead man, no matter the circumstances, didn’t sit right with him. But Andy couldn’t afford to linger on that now. He slipped the energy pistol into his pack, just another piece of equipment to help him navigate the perilous underground.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He stood up, giving the body a last glance before turning away, the grim reality of his actions lingering in the back of his mind. The underground was unforgiving, and as much as he hated it, he had no choice but to push forward.

  With a last look at the man’s lifeless form, Andy continued on, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the suffocating darkness ahead of him. The deeper he went, the more he could feel the weight of the unknown pressing on him. But he had a mission—he had to move forward. And in this world, survival meant taking every advantage he could get.

  Andy’s pulse quickened as he pushed forward, using his survival tools and the ever-valuable echochron to guide him deeper into the maze of the underground. The familiar hum of the watch vibrated softly on his wrist, its interface flashing with data as he maneuvered through the twisting corridors. His footsteps echoed off the cold concrete walls, a rhythmic reminder that he was deep in the city’s heart’s forgotten underbelly.

  The maze seemed to stretch on forever, but Andy had grown accustomed to this. Over the years, he’d mapped every nook, cranny and secret passageway with the precision of someone who knew this place better than most. His watch’s holographic display flickered, pointing him toward his goal: what appeared to be an old warehouse from the readings.

  When he finally reached the heavy metal doors, he hesitated for a moment. He had crossed so many boundaries today, stepping into territory that hadn’t been touched by anyone in years. But he knew what he was looking for—what he needed. The door creaked open with a groan, and the air inside hit him with a strange mixture of dust and aged metal. It was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile tunnels.

  The room before him was vast, its shelves and crates stacked high with parts of time had left behind that. Rusted machinery, pieces of old tech, and relics from the past sprawled across the floor and shelves in every direction. The familiar rush of excitement flooded through Andy as he stepped inside. This was it—a mother lode of supplies, more valuable than anything he had ever found in the wreckage above.

  His fingers twitched, eager to get started. His mind raced as he thought about the various components he could use for his projects, the pieces he could take back to Wily’s shop. He took a slow, careful breath before sifting through the piles, cataloging everything mentally.

  He started with the basics: wires, microchips, old power cells—things Wily would appreciate for his repairs. But it wasn’t just about what he could find for the shop; this was also a chance to stock up on parts for the Echochron. Some of the older tech in the pile was precisely what Andy had been looking for: a rare type of connector he could not find, an obsolete power source, and a set of precise gears that would fit perfectly with the work he had been doing.

  His hands moved quickly and deftly, his fingers expertly picking through the wreckage. He had spent years learning how to repair and salvage, and now it was second nature to him—every tool and part had its place in his mind, its importance understood, with no need to think too hard.

  As he pulled out what he needed, Andy marked the warehouse’s location on the Echochron’s holographic display, his excitement growing. I’ll come back here later, he thought. There’s so much more to explore.

  He set to work in earnest, filling his pack with the things he knew he couldn’t leave behind: more wire, a couple of busted drones for parts, and a few old batteries he could use for the more power-hungry components of his gadgets. A few odds and ends, too—small things he didn’t need right now but would likely come in handy down the line. A couple of old multi-tools, still functional if a little worn. Some hand-cranked flashlights. As he scavenged, a nagging thought lingered at the back of his mind: Was this just a random find, or had someone been here before?

  It was hard to tell—most of the equipment was dusty, but the more Andy moved through the space, the stronger his feeling became that someone had recently disturbed some of it. He paused for a moment, scanning the area with his eyes, but everything appeared untouched. He shook off the thought and returned to his scavenging.

  As he packed up his findings into his bag, he couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of accomplishment. This wasn’t just about making it through another day in the underground. This was a win—something he could use, something that would help him get closer to finishing his personal projects, and something he could bring back to Wily’s shop. The more he gathered, the more he realized just how invaluable this haul would be.

  After a few more minutes of collecting the parts he needed, Andy stood up, dusting off his hands. Looking over at the warehouse again, he paused. He realized it was time to go back. He decided one more sweep wasn’t necessary.

  As he returned the way he came, he moved faster through now familiar territory until he got back to the intersection. He could sense something was off.

  Andy’s heart hammered in his chest as he turned the corner and spotted the trail of blood. His breath hitched, and his pulse quickened. The body—the one he had found earlier—was gone. Although the bloodstains were still fresh, dark, and wet, something had dragged the mangled remains away. Something had come through here, something that was far more dangerous than anything he had expected.

  His fingers tightened around the grip of his energy pistol, the cold metal reassuring in his palm. He held the weapon at the ready, scanning the surrounding shadows. A cold sweat beaded on his forehead as an unsettling feeling crept up his spine. What had taken the body? And why? He couldn’t shake the sense that whatever did this was still down here, watching him, waiting.

  The feeling of eyes on him made him freeze for a moment, a lump of panic rising in his throat. His gaze darted to the corners of the hallway, but there was nothing. Still, the tension in the air was thick, suffocating.

  Without another thought, he reached into his pack and grabbed the small pouch of dust. He quickly unclipped the pouch, his fingers slick with sweat as he yanked it open.

  Andy didn’t hesitate. He hurled the dust into the air in a wide arc, watching as it scattered and formed a thick cloud. The unique electromagnetic pulse spread through the space, and he immediately felt the shift—the air felt different, almost charged. His energy pistol remained steady in his hand, ready for anything that came through the haze.

  A sharp sound echoed through the corridor, and Andy’s nerves flared. Something was coming. His muscles tensed, his finger hovering near the trigger of his pistol, but he didn’t fire. Not yet.

  The sense of being watched intensified, creeping under his skin. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but he knew that wasn’t the best choice, not with whatever had dragged the body away still out there.

  Without warning, his heart leaped as the sound of a skittering, unnatural movement echoed from deeper into the darkness. He barely had time to react, his breath catching as he spun around, his pistol aimed at the origin of the noise. But the dust—his last hope—was working. The distortion was already affecting the sensors of whatever was there. For now, he was safe.

  He broke into a sprint, the echo of his hurried steps reverberating off the metal walls as the shadows seemed to press in from all sides, suffocating. He didn’t look back, not even for a second, afraid of what he might see. His lungs burned, his legs screamed with effort, but the only thing that mattered was getting out.

  The exit to his camp was just ahead. His instincts screamed at him to get there as quickly as possible, and he obeyed without a second thought. When he reached the camp, he didn’t waste a moment. He slammed his hand onto the activation panel of his Echochron, feeling the familiar pulse of the watch as it interfaced with the door’s lock. The heavy metal door slid closed with a solid thud, sealing him in.

  He collapsed against it, his breath ragged, the rush of adrenaline wearing off. His pulse still pounded in his ears, and the taste of metal lingered in his mouth. He was safe—for now. The dust had bought him precious time.

  “That’s enough adventure for today,” Andy muttered to himself, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the door. He couldn’t afford to push his luck any further—not without more preparation. The underground had proven dangerous, more so than he ever expected.

  As he looked at the closed door, his mind replayed the scene of the dead man, the bloodstains and the chilling sensation that something was still watching him. Andy wiped his face with his sleeve, forcing himself to calm down. For now, he’d stay in the camp, take stock of what he’d found, and maybe think about designing that drone he’d been considering. He’d need all the help he could get if he was going to go back down there.

  He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the day finally catching up to him. Further adventure would have to wait.

  Looting the dead can definitely be a controversial topic, but I wanted to provide some context. In this story, the characters are the descendants of the original survivors of a cataclysmic event. They’ve grown up in a harsh, unforgiving world where survival often requires making difficult choices. They’re incredibly resilient, but still human. As the story unfolds, you’ll notice that characters tend to recover from trauma more quickly than we might expect by today’s standards, that’s a reflection of the brutal environment they’ve adapted to.