Cinderfall City had become a completely ruined city.

The light from the mag-lev trains was nowhere to be found. The bright, glowing ads that covered the sides of skyscrapers were dark. The only lights were the moving beams of the Syndicate VTOLs and the red glow of military checkpoints.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

It was the sound of robotic Syndicate soldiers marching together through the empty streets. Their metallic bodies shining under the searchlights.

Two people moved quietly through a dark alley with their faces covered by the hoods of their rough cloaks.

"Every major road is blocked," Seraph whispered, her voice low. She hid herself behind a brick wall as a patrol group marched past the alley entrance. "They have the city locked down tight."

Draven growled, making a tight fist under his cloak. "Then we break through. Find a safe house. The Academy has dozens."

"And Sterling knows every one of them," Seraph shot back, her voice sharp. "Those places aren't safe houses anymore. They're traps. We are ghosts now, Draven. The Ghost Hunter unit is officially being hunted. We have to think like ghosts."

"Ghosts don't hit back," he muttered, his voice sounding frustrated.

"Ghosts haunt," she corrected him. "And they wait for the right moment to attack. Right now, we need to disappear. Completely." She looked around the dark and empty plaza, her mind working fast. "Everywhere we know is compromised. Everywhere we are comfortable is a target. We need to go somewhere they would never think to look for us. Somewhere they don't control yet."

"There is no such place," Draven said. "They took the entire capital in one night."

Seraph looked down quickly, a sudden realization appeared on her face. "Not the entire capital," she said softly.

Draven looked where she was looking. His face changed, showing confusion at first, and then disgust. "No. Absolutely not."

"It's the only place," Seraph insisted, her voice firm. "It's chaos. It's lawless. It has its own rules, its own power structures. Sterling is focused on controlling the Upperside. He won't have the resources to fully control the slums. Not yet."

"We are knights of the Academy," Draven said, his voice showing the pride he felt from his noble family. "We do not crawl into the slums."

"We are fugitives now," Seraph said, her voice sharp. "Our titles don't mean anything down here. Our survival does. We need a base. We need allies they don't know about. We need a new way to fight. And it's all down there."

She pointed to a rusty, maintenance hatch on the ground, half-hidden by the dark. The entrance to the Undercroft.

Jonah's home.

Draven stared at the hatch as if it was dangerous. He hated the idea. Everything about his noble background strongly rejected the idea. But he looked at Seraph's face, at the logic in her eyes, and he knew she was right.

With a sigh, he nodded. "Fine," he grumbled. " But if any of that dirty water touches me, it's your fault."

Seraph almost smiled. Almost.

They moved quickly towards the hatch. With a loud Screech of metal, Draven pulled it open.

They went down into the dark, one step at a time, leaving the conquered city behind.

The Undercroft was completely a different place. The clean structures of the Upperside was replaced by a maze of leaking pipes, rusted walkways, and weak, flashing lights.

Here, survival was not a mission. It was a way of life.

They moved through the upper levels, staying hidden in the dark. Seraph knew the layout from old Academy maps, but the maps were clean and simple. The actual place was a confusing mess.

They hadn't been down here for ten minutes before someone spotted them.

As they crossed a shaky metal bridge that went over a dark, deep hole, figures suddenly stepped out of the dark spots at both ends. There were a dozen of them, maybe more. They carried weapons that combined stolen military equipment with rough, handmade blades. Their faces looked tough and desperate.

"Well, well," one of them said, a man with a rough scar on his face. "Look what we have here. A couple of Uppersiders, playing tourist in our little kingdom."

Draven stepped in front of Seraph, using his huge body like a strong shield. "We're just passing through," he said, his voice a low warning.

The scarred man laughed. "No one just 'passes through' here, big man. You look lost. And people who are lost tend to have things we can find."

His group spread out quickly, surrounding them with their weapons reflecting in the dim light.

A fight was about to happen. Draven tightened his fists. Seraph secretly took a small energy pistol from inside her cloak.

Right before the tension broke into a fight, a different voice was heard.

"That's enough."

A new figure stepped out of dark. He was an older man, his face heavily marked with old scars. He wore a heavy, armored coat and walked with a cane that looked suspiciously like a disguised power weapon. His eyes, however, were the most dangerous thing about him.

He walked slowly forward, his eyes looking over Draven's expensive boots, then to Seraph's posture, the ready stance of a trained soldier. His eyes narrowed as he spotted a small, silver phoenix symbol, which was just barely visible on Seraph's uniform collar under her hood.

An ugly sneer appeared on his face.

"Academy Knights," he said, the words a low, mocking sound. "You're a long way from your ivory tower."

He took another step, tapping his cane on the metal floor. Clack. Clack.

"Things have really changed completely, haven't they?" he said, his eyes quickly assessing them. He looked from Seraph's hidden weapon to Draven's angry face. He knew exactly who they were and what their situation was. And he knew they were in a desperate position.

"You need something," the old man said, his voice a low growl. He smiled, showing his teeth in a way that had no real happiness.

"And down here, everything has a price."

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