The closer I got, the more the train yard seemed to loom, its rusted skeletons rising against the night sky. A single, dim light flickered in the distance, marking the spot where Freya waited. It was the only sign of life in this forsaken place, a tiny beacon in a sea of darkness. I quickened my pace, eager to reach her, though the unease in my chest only grew stronger with each step.

You made it, she said, with a hint of approval in her voice.

I nodded, pulling my jacket tighter around me. So, where is this vault?

Freya gestured toward a path that wound through the labyrinth of derelict train cars. It's not far.

As we walked, the silence between us was only broken by the distant creaks and groans of the decaying structures around us. I took the opportunity to break the silence, my curiosity getting the better of me. You said you worked at Neurogenesis. What was your role there?

Freya’s pace didn’t falter, but I noticed her expression harden slightly. I was high up—the leader of the core team, but even at that level, there were things beyond my control. Jatari had the final say on everything.

Jatari, I repeated, the name heavy on my tongue. She had that much control?

Freya nodded, her voice taking on a more somber tone. Neurogenesis was her life. Everything was orchestrated by her, from the smallest projects to the largest operations. We were all just pieces on her board.

The thought of one person wielding so much power was unsettling, but also it made sense of what happened to the city. I hesitated, then asked the question that had been gnawing at me. Did you… know my parents? They worked there too.

Freya glanced at me, her gaze unreadable. Yes. I knew them. They were some of the most honest people I ever met. Dedicated, moral, even when everything around them was crumbling. She paused, and for a moment, I saw something dark flicker across her face—a memory she wasn’t willing to share.

Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. I wanted to press her further, but something in her demeanor warned me not to.

We arrived at the entrance to the vault, an imposing steel door set into the side of a crumbling wall. The area was desolate, save for the remnants of old security systems and the occasional flicker of malfunctioning lights. The structure stood ominously, like a relic from a forgotten age.

Freya approached the door, keying in a series of codes into a panel hidden behind a piece of rusted metal. As the door creaked open, she hesitated, her usual confidence replaced by a flicker of doubt.

Are you okay? I asked, uneasy at seeing her so on edge.

Freya nodded curtly. Just… stay alert.

We stepped inside, and immediately, the atmosphere shifted. The air was heavy with the scent of mildew and decay. Faint noises echoed through the corridors—whispers, distant screams and cries, the kind of sounds that would make anyone’s blood run cold. I flinched at the unsettling echoes, my eyes darting nervously. I turned to Freya, who remained eerily composed, her expression unchanged as if she were merely walking through a routine.

I couldn't help but ask, Aren't you bothered by this? This place... something bad happened here.

Her expression showed a flicker of sorrow as to acknowledge my comments, but her gaze remained steady, collected. Stay focused.