I'll Follow You Down -

The fall wasn't a clean drop; it was a desperate scramble. He caught a rusted service rail, the jolt nearly tearing his arm from its socket, and began the long climb into the belly of the world.

Elias didn't look back. He tightened the straps of his rebreather, the rubber tasting of salt and old copper. He remembered Lena’s hand in his three nights ago, her fingers trembling as she whispered about a signal she’d found—a ghost in the machine calling from the deep. She had gone to find the source. She hadn't come back. I'll Follow You Down

She looked up, her face a map of exhaustion and wonder. "I told you I found it," she whispered. "The earth is still breathing down here." The fall wasn't a clean drop; it was a desperate scramble

Hours bled into a fever dream of grime. The air grew thick, tasting of ozone and ancient rot. He passed the 'Hollows,' where people with translucent skin watched him with wide, unblinking eyes. He didn't stop. He followed the faint, rhythmic pulse on his tracker—the beacon he’d tucked into Lena’s pocket weeks ago "just in case." He tightened the straps of his rebreather, the

"She’s not a statistic," Elias muttered, his voice muffled by the mask.

"I know," he said, the weight of the miles above them finally feeling light. "I told you. Wherever you go, "

"She is lost," the drone insisted. "Gravity is a one-way street, Elias."