Next day.
DJ woke up first. Silk sheets, too bright light. He groaned, rolled onto his side, then sat up anyway. Rubbed his face hard like he could scrub the night off it. The apartment was quiet, expensive-quiet. He padded to the bathroom, splashed water, stared at himself in the mirror a second longer than usual, then looked away. Pulled on clean clothes. The good ones.
Far away, an alarm screamed in a high-rise.
Sakshi slapped it quietly without opening her eyes. She sat up slowly, hair everywhere, eyes burning. The wall in front of her was a mess—photos, red strings, scribbled notes, printed balance sheets taped crooked. A web that made sense only to her. She stared at it like it might blink first. Then she sighed, got up, washed her face, brushed her teeth, tied her hair back. Picked up her modified camera, checked the lens, slung the leather coat over her shoulder. The red scarf followed. Always did.
Further away still, Rony woke up gasping.
He bolted upright with a sharp breath, sweat soaking his shirt, heart hammering like it wanted out. He pressed a hand to his forehead, fingers trembling. For a second, he didn't know where he was. Then the room came back—poster walls, scattered tools, half-built dreams on every surface. He wiped his face, breath slowing, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking.
DJ zipped his jacket, checked his watch. I opened a backpack. Equipment lined up neatly. Gear stacked with care. He reached for the new helmet. Stopped. The camera stared back at him, dead glass eye. His eyes moved. After a beat, he grabbed it anyway and turned away before he could change his mind.
Sakshi locked her door and headed out, camera bumping lightly against her side. She paused at the stairwell, pulled the scarf tighter around her neck, and took a steadying breath before moving again.
Rony sat at his table, elbows planted, staring at the chaos in front of him. He grabbed a random part, not even looking. A small metal sphere rolled into his palm. O² stamped on its side. He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, then closed his fingers around it. When he opened them, his grip was steady. He leaned forward. Tools came alive in his hands.
DJ rode the elevator down, helmet tucked under his bag, eyes fixed on nothing. The doors opened. He stepped out without hesitation.
Rony slid a leg armor piece into place, adjusting joints, testing tension. Once. Twice. A small nod. He kept going.
And sometime later, Sakshi was following the trail of the water pipes that she had tread earlier.
She reached the same point again—the faded line that marked the Disaster Zone. Last time she had stopped there. This time, she didn't. She stepped over it, boots crunching on old debris, and kept following the pipes as they ran straight into the ruins ready to follow them to end.
They dipped underground.
She clicked her tongue, annoyed. Remembering her promise to follow them to the end a moment ago. She paused. Looked around.
Nothing. Just ruined buildings. Hollow windows. Cracked pillars. A place that had already given up on pretending to be alive.
She exhaled through her nose, then froze.
"…right."
The camera.
Rony's voice echoed in her head, bragging about it. X-ray this, layered scan that. She rolled her eyes but lifted it anyway. Switched a few settings. The camera hummed, low and mechanical, vibrating slightly in her hands.
The screen shifted.
The surface peeled away into a model-like view—concrete, soil, old rebar—and there it was. The pipe. Clean. Intentional. Hidden beneath everything.
Sakshi whistled under her breath.
"Okay," she muttered, already moving. "This guy is really a genius."
She followed the line forward.
---
Far away, DJ stood still, staring at the factory.
Lights glowed behind thick walls. Too neat. Too confident. He watched it longer than he meant to, his gaze lingering, almost thoughtful. Then he turned his head.
The other direction.
The road where the caravan of cars had gone.
Darkness was settling in, slow and heavy. DJ pulled on his new helmet. The world snapped into clarity—sharper edges, brighter colors, data flickering at the corners of his vision.
He blinked. Raised an eyebrow.
"…yeah. Definitely outdid himself."
He looked around again. Everything felt brighter. Cleaner. The sun hung low, bleeding orange across broken concrete, it even showed what it looked like before being destroyed. Where did he even got this much processing power, he muttered to himself, and sat on his bike.
The bike roared to life beneath him.
He passed the zone where electronics died, this time though nothing happened, screens flickered out once as he crossed the invisible line. Beyond that, the damage worsened. Buildings torn open. Streets punched inward. Potholes scattered like meteors had rained straight down.
He slowed. Changed roads. Ignoring the only path that still looked drivable.
He parked in a shadowed corner and killed the engine.
From here, he went on foot.
---
Back with Sakshi, she followed the pipes as the ground dropped away.
The camera revealed a tunnel system beneath the ruins. Old. Wide. Part of the disaster zone's sewer network. Multiple pipes fed into it from different directions, all converging toward one place.
She looked for an entrance and after funding one slipped inside.
The space opened up around her. Massive, circular walls stained by time. The pipes here were thick, industrial, pumping nonstop. She reached out, touched one. Warm.
She switched off the X-ray mode.
The hum died.
She didn't notice what else died with it.
Her phone stayed dark. Her secondary camera blinked once, then went dead. Only the pull-water-powered camera in her hand stayed alive, its light cutting a narrow path through the dark.
She kept walking, focused on the pipes ahead.
DJ climbed what was left of a mobile tower.
It shouldn't have been standing. Everything around it had collapsed or sunk into the earth. He reached the top and looked down.
The sight hit him all at once.
The core of the crater area.
The massive crater yawned beside him, raw and ugly. Blocks of cement and stone littered the ground—perfect cubes, shattered slabs, chunks tossed around like toys. Smaller impact pits overlapped each other, scars stacked on scars.
It looked like a war zone. War zone that no mortal should interfere.
He swallowed.
"So this is where monsters throw punches," he murmured.
His helmet flickered. Charts popped up. Readings spiked—radiation, heat, water vapor.
One zone pulsed brighter than the rest.
Cube-shaped.
Heavy readings across the board.
DJ's lips twitched.
"Found it."
He fired the hook and slid down.
---
The sound of water grew louder for Sakshi.
A steady roar, echoing through stone. Light appeared ahead—bright, artificial, flooding the tunnel's end. She raised a hand, squinting as she stepped closer.
Then the tunnel ended.
Her eyes adjusted slowly.
And she froze.
A massive cavern opened before her. Industrial machines lined the walls. Cranes. Pumps. Thick cables snaking across rock. In the center sat a huge pond.
Glowing blue.
Not reflected light. Not painted.
Alive, glowing.
All the pipes emptied into it. Machines drank from it, siphoning the glow into nearby systems.
Her breath caught.
She raised the camera with shaking hands and started taking pictures. Wide shots. Close-ups. The pond. The machines. The pipes feeding it all.
She lowered the camera and reached for her phone.
Dead.
Her stomach dropped.
She turned to leave.
Something blocked the tunnel behind her.