While A-01 sat in his office, Nikki and B-02 were in their own world.
The subterranean Restricted Zone was a graveyard of the Old World. The heavy, industrial service lift rattled violently as it plummeted miles beneath the surface of the Earth.
The air grew dense, cold, and thick with the heavy scent of iron and damp concrete. There were no sleek, humming energy grids down here. There were only massive, rusted support pillars and the sprawling, lightless catacombs where the Units had been compiled.
Nikki stood in the center of the vibrating metal cage, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. Her right hand was locked in a death grip around the Key. Her heart hammered against her ribs, the dull, receding ache in her bandaged temple pulsing in time with the descent.
Standing beside her, looking profoundly out of place was B-02.
