Time had passed - days, maybe more - long enough for the pain in Raizen’s arm to dull to an ache rather than a constant scream. The bandages were tighter now, cleaner, and Louissa had scolded him more than once for trying to use it before she gave permission. He didn’t argue. He had learned that nothing slipped past her watchful gaze.
But at last, his strength had returned enough to stand, walk, and breathe without fire tearing his ribs. That morning, Obi had burst into the room like a storm breaking down a door.
"All right, hero!" he had shouted, tossing Raizen a small apple as if it were a weapon. "Time you two stopped rotting in here. The Underworks won’t explore itself!"
Raizen caught the apple clumsily with his good hand. Hikari, perched by the window slit, tilted her head in quiet curiosity. She hadn’t said much since the day she had remembered her name. Sometimes she sat in silence for hours, staring at the streets outside, constantly veiled in shadow, as though waiting for them to part.
Now, though, her eyes softened, and she gave the slightest nod. "Sure, let’s go" she said.
And so, Obi became their guide.
The Underworks stretched beneath Neoshima like veins beneath skin. The first steps outside the door were enough to steal Raizen’s breath - not because it was beautiful, but because it was alive.
The corridors twisted and branched endlessly, some smooth stone lit by lanterns, others jagged and dripping with water. Rusted pipes ran like arteries across ceilings, hissing every few moments with bursts of steam. The walls bore layers of graffiti - chalked warnings, painted prayers, crude jokes, and cryptic marks only locals could read.
The air carried a dozen smells: roasting meat, wet moss, iron from forges, and the sour stench of rust everywhere. Heat and cold fought for dominance in every corner. One tunnel baked with furnace warmth, another chilled with drafts that whispered through unseen cracks.
Obi spread his arms wide like a king unveiling his palace. "Welcome to the belly of the beast! Markets this way, vents that way, smithies everywhere if you know where to look. Oh, and don’t step too close to the Maw unless you like being stared at by people who definitely want to rob you."
"Way to encourage me" Raizen muttered, while sighing, sarcastically.
"Relax," Obi said with a sneaky grin. "You’ve got me. Nobody in the Underworks would dare mess with me."
From the corner of his eye, Raizen caught two rough-looking men glancing their way - then deciding against it when Obi gave them a lazy wave. Somehow, his confidence carried weight.
They passed through a market square where the ceiling arched higher, supported by massive stone pillars blackened with soot. Dozens of stalls clustered beneath, their awnings patched and repatched with cloth, leather, even stitched-together scraps of armor. Hikari kept quiet, as if she was absorbing everything that she saw.
The noise hit Raizen like a wave. Merchants shouted over one another, their voices bouncing off the walls in a chaotic symphony. Steam rose from bowls of spiced broth, mingling with the sharper scents of oil and electric lamps and hot iron. Colors burst from fabric stalls - scarlets, golds, indigos - dyed from roots and minerals dug out of the cracks in the stone.
Children darted barefoot between legs, laughing as they carried baskets or snatched dropped coins. A trio of old men played a weird game in a shadowed corner. A hunched woman offered charms carved from bone, whispering that they kept Nyxes away.
For every burst of life, though, shadows lingered. Hollow-eyed men leaned against walls, bottles clutched tight. A boy with burned hands polished tools at his father’s side, each movement mechanical, exhausted. Silent figures leaned in alleys, watching. Always watching.
Raizen slowed, unsettled. He had thought the Underworks would feel safer than the forest, but here, safety was just another mask.
Hikari, though, seemed transfixed. Her eyes lingered on everything - the cloths, the lanterns, the faces. When a vendor pressed a slice of fruit into her hand with a smile, she held it as though it might disappear if she blinked.
"You act like you’ve never seen a market," Obi teased, sidling up.
"I haven’t," Hikari said simply.
That silenced him for all of three seconds. Then he beamed. "Well, today’s your lucky day. Stick with me, and I’ll show you the best spots.
Instead of weaving deeper into the stalls, he led them upward. Narrow staircases bolted to the sides of buildings wound higher and higher, past balconies dripping with laundry and patched with sheet metal. The air grew thinner, cooler, threaded with the constant hiss of steam pipes.
Raizen frowned. "Where are we going? The market’s down there..."
"Sure," Obi said over his shoulder, curls bouncing. "But you haven’t seen the Underworks until you’ve seen it from above."
When they emerged onto a swaying iron walkway, the sight hit Raizen like a blow.
The cavern stretched out in its full enormity, its ceiling lost in shadow. Below them lay the sprawl of the Underworks - buildings stacked like uneven teeth, stitched together by scaffolds and staircases. The market glowed in the depths, lanterns and neon signs casting restless color over the crowd. Smoke rose from chimneys, tangled with steam that glimmered in the scattered lights. The entire undercity throbbed with motion and sound: shouting vendors, clattering machinery, the hiss of pistons buried in the bones of the cavern.
And above it all, crisscrossing in every direction, hung the Tangle. Find the newest release on novel fire.net
Bridges of iron and wood, cables as thick as tree trunks, pipes that hissed with rushing heat - woven together into a sprawling lattice suspended high above the city. Lanterns dangled from wires, swinging gently with the drafts, throwing pale light across rusted rails and tangled coils. Children scampered across the narrower beams as if they were born for it. Traders pushed carts across sturdier ones, wheels squeaking on warped boards. And far above, the faint silhouettes of daredevils leapt from one hanging cable to the next, dancing with gravity.
"The Tangle," Obi announced proudly, spreading his arms like a ringmaster. "Every bridge, every pipe, every shortcut in the Underworks - woven together over a hundred years. The veins and bones of the city. From up here, you can get anywhere."
Raizen pressed closer to the railing. His village had been flat and simple, every path laid clear. This? Oh, this was chaos suspended over chaos! beautiful, terrifying, impossible. "People actually live up here?"
"Live, trade, fight, hide..." Obi shrugged. "Depends on who you ask. The Tangle doesn’t care. Fall, and you’re gone. Run fast enough, and you’ll never be caught. It’s freedom - or a grave."
Hikari’s blue eyes reflected the glow of lanterns as she leaned forward. "It’s like a second city above the first," she said softly.
"Exactly!" Obi beamed. "You get it. Down there’s the stomach. Up here? The heartbeat."
But then he lowered his voice, nodding toward a wider bridge not far off. "Course, not everything up here is good."
A formation of men moved across the span. Their boots struck the metal in unison, the sound like war drums. Polished breastplates caught the lantern light, marked with the sigil of Neoshima, a simple lotus symbolizing Their strength. Rifles glinted on their shoulders. Red armbands cut against the shadows.
"The Wardens," Obi muttered, with a disgusted face. "Neoshima’s dogs. They come down from the city above whenever they want. Take what they like. Food, tech, people - it’s all the same to them. Call it tax. Call it law. But everyone knows it’s theft."
The air changed. The laughter below faltered. Merchants froze in place. One of the Wardens plucked an item from a stall without a word, turning it in his hand before pocketing it. The seller bowed his head and said nothing. Another man was dragged into their ranks, swallowed up and marched away. Nobody protested. Nobody dared.
Raizen’s chest tightened. His hand curled uselessly against the bandages. The urge to shout, to act, clawed at him - but memory clawed harder: the Nyx, his mother’s last word, his father’s lifeless hands. He bit down on the feeling until his teeth hurt.
Obi caught his look and forced a lopsided grin. "Don’t. Trust me. They want you to fight back. That’s their excuse to break you."
The Wardens vanished into the far side of the Tangle, leaving only silence and the hum of steam. Slowly, life below began again, like a city learning to breathe after almost suffocating.
Raizen leaned heavily against the railing. The Underworks wasn’t just alive - it was dangerous, and always watching.
Obi clapped him on the back with a grin. "So? Markets, vents, or rooftops? Where do you two want to almost die first?"