The rumors persisted, passed in hushed tones in the darkest corners of the Undermarket and scavenger dens – whispers of a recent tunnel collapse in the unstable Sector Sigma-Nine, revealing structures unlike any seen before. They spoke of smooth, seamless walls, strange geometric patterns, and an unsettling silence that seemed to swallow sound. They called it the 'Weaver's Creche,' attributing it to the mythical Weaver's Era, a pre-Sundering civilization fabled to have mastered energy manipulation on an unimaginable scale.
For Rhys, the name itself – Weavers – was an irresistible lure. It resonated too strongly with Sera's description of his own nascent abilities, the potential to 'weave' Aetherium Echoes. If these ruins truly dated back to that era, they might hold clues, knowledge, or even purer, more potent sources of Aetherium than he had yet encountered. The potential reward felt increasingly worth the undeniable risk. Sector Sigma-Nine was notoriously unstable, prone to seismic tremors and pockets of volatile energy; venturing there was courting disaster.
He spent three days making careful preparations, a process dictated by caution and scarcity. Using his Echo Sense, he bartered painstakingly gathered resonant scraps with Kaelen not just for the essential healing salve, but also for hardened steel pitons and a length of thin but incredibly strong woven-alloy wire – remnants of Kaelen's own mysterious past, perhaps. He meticulously cleaned their water filters and stocked up on the highest density nutrient paste they could afford. He spent hours meditating near the dripping stones in the sewer junction, absorbing every possible drop of clean Aether, ensuring his Pool was as full as his current capacity allowed. He also dedicated time to Kaelen's brutal training, pushing himself harder, knowing physical resilience might be the deciding factor between survival and becoming another nameless corpse in the Undercity's depths.
He explained the plan to Boulder, sketching the rumored location on their crude map, outlining the potential dangers and rewards. Boulder's usual stoicism was tinged with deep apprehension. "Sigma-Nine is bad ground, Rhys. Shifting tunnels, sinkholes… worse things."
"I know," Rhys acknowledged grimly. "But stagnating here is just waiting for the Hand or someone else to find us. This… this might be a chance. A breakthrough." He tapped the map. "We go slow. We observe. First sign of serious trouble, we pull back. Agreed?"
Boulder met his gaze, saw the unwavering determination, and gave a slow, reluctant nod. "Agreed. I watch our backs."
Their journey to Sector Sigma-Nine was the most perilous they had yet undertaken. It led them through sections of the Undercity even seasoned scavengers avoided – areas where the very air felt thick and distorted, where strange lights flickered in the distance, and unsettling whispers seemed to echo from the rock itself. Rhys relied heavily on his Echo Sense, navigating by the subtle currents of energy, identifying structural weaknesses in tunnel ceilings, sensing pockets of unstable, corrupted Aether that pulsed like infected wounds in the subterranean darkness. Kaelen's training proved its worth; the enhanced stamina allowed them to move faster and longer, and the ingrained toughness helped Rhys endure the constant environmental stresses.
Finally, after nearly a full cycle of travel, they reached the periphery of the reported collapse. The devastation was fresh. Mountains of rubble choked wide thoroughfares, and the air tasted sharp with pulverized rock dust. And beneath the dust, Rhys felt it – a distinct, low-frequency hum, different from the chaotic background noise of the Undercity. It felt ancient, orderly, and deeply strange.
Following the hum, they found the breach: a jagged opening torn in the side of a massive, buried structure, revealed by the collapse. The edges of the opening weren't fractured rock, but smooth, dark material that seemed to absorb light, displaying a faint, almost invisible geometric pattern across its surface. This was no ordinary tunnel wall. This was artificial, ancient, and utterly alien.
Taking deep breaths, they slipped through the breach. Inside, the silence was profound. The usual drips and echoes of the Undercity were muted, absorbed by the strange material of the walls. Dim emergency lighting flickered intermittently along the corridor stretching before them, cast by glowing strips embedded seamlessly into the walls – Pre-Sundering tech still functioning after centuries. The air was cool, sterile, and carried that same low, resonant hum Rhys had sensed outside.
They moved forward with extreme caution, Rhys in the lead, Echo Sense fully extended, Boulder a silent shadow behind him, pry bar held ready. The corridor was unnervingly pristine compared to the ruins they were used to. No graffiti, no scavenger markings, minimal debris. It felt less like a ruin, more like a tomb briefly disturbed.
Their first encounter wasn't with a creature, but with the environment itself. As they passed a junction, a section of the wall beside Rhys suddenly glowed brighter, and a shimmering field of force, like heat haze, snapped into existence, blocking their path. It crackled faintly, emitting waves of energy that made Rhys's teeth ache. An automated defense system, still active.
Rhys instinctively raised a hand, examining the field with his Echo Sense. It pulsed with a complex, repeating energy pattern. It wasn't inherently hostile, more like a triggered barrier. He tried pushing against it physically – it felt like solid wall. He tried disrupting it with a focused kinetic push from his Aether Pool – the field flickered but held firm, draining a significant portion of his energy for no effect.
Frustrated, he studied the glowing panel on the wall that seemed to be the emitter. He focused his Echo Sense on it, trying to understand the energy flow. He perceived intricate circuits, dormant pathways, and the active loop maintaining the barrier. Then, he noticed something else – a faint, secondary energy signature nearby, emanating from a small, almost invisible seam in the opposite wall. It felt… receptive.
An idea, born from Sera's mention of weaving, sparked. Instead of brute force, perhaps communication? He carefully drew a small amount of Aether from his Pool, shaping it not into force, but into a focused pulse mimicking the frequency and pattern he sensed emanating from the receptive seam. He projected this mimic pulse towards the seam.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the seam glowed faintly green, the emitter panel on the opposite wall flashed, and the crackling energy barrier vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Rhys stared, astonished and relieved, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. It had worked. Not forcing, but communicating with the ancient system using its own energetic language. It was a rudimentary form of weaving, far beyond simple pushes or sparks. The potential implications were staggering.
"Clever," Boulder grunted, his voice echoing slightly in the renewed silence, admiration clear in his tone.
Pressing onward, the corridor opened into a large, circular chamber. In the center stood several crystalline pillars humming with soft light. The walls were covered in intricate carvings and dormant display screens. But the pristine nature was broken here. Scuttling sounds echoed from the shadows, and Rhys's Echo Sense picked up multiple small, fast-moving signatures – erratic, hungry, and distinctly non-mechanical.
Small, insectoid creatures, carapace glistening like oil on water, emerged from behind the pillars. They had too many legs, mandibles that clicked rapidly, and multiple glowing red eyes that fixed on Rhys and Boulder. They weren't natural Undercity vermin; they looked like constructs, or perhaps bio-engineered custodians, corrupted by time and tainted energy.
Before Rhys could react, several of them skittered forward with unnatural speed, spitting globs of corrosive acid that sizzled where they struck the floor. This was no puzzle to be solved with clever weaving. This was immediate, lethal danger. The echoes of the Weavers were guarded by hungry remnants.