Andy stepped through the worn door of Wily’s repair shop, his mind still buzzing from the outside world and the procession he’d just witnessed. The scent of grease, oil, and old metal wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. The hum of the workshop was like an old friend greeting him back after a long absence. He didn’t waste time heading straight for his workbench; the tools scattered around him as if they had been waiting for his return.

  He sat down, fingers already itching to get back to the Echochron. The feeling was familiar now—like he was in tune with the machine, each click of a button, each line of code flowing from his fingertips like second nature. The circuit board beneath his hands seemed to hum with life as he worked, almost as if it were alive. He could sense the connections forming between the components, the electrical pulses of data that flickered through the wires, and the subtle shifts in the programming that would bring the Echochron one step closer to perfection.

  His focus was so complete that time seemed to slip by unnoticed. It was only when he glanced up, eyes bleary from hours of staring at screens and circuits, that he realized the sun was still low in the sky. The dim light filtering in through the windows suggested it was still early morning. He could have sworn the clock on the wall had already ticked past noon.

  But the realization that time had not moved as fast as he thought brought a new thought to the forefront of Andy’s mind: I have time. Time to test something.

  There was a roadblock in his work—the underground. The deep layers beneath the city. He had been so focused on the upgrade to the Echochron that he hadn’t ventured down and see how it would perform in the real world in some time. The project had brought him closer to controlling the underground, especially the deeper, less explored parts of the city, but there were still patches of the old world that were impassable—passages that he hadn’t been able to bypass before his last upgrade.

  This was his chance to break through that barrier.

  Not only did he need to test the watch’s full capabilities, but he also needed materials. Some parts he’d used up were critical, and the last thing he needed was for Wily to notice. As much as the old man would tolerate Andy’s chaos, he had a keen eye for detail with the shop. Andy had learned that the hard way: Wily could spot a missing wire from across the room, even in the middle of a pile of half-repaired equipment. It was like a sixth sense—a quiet but undeniable knowledge that everything had its place.

  Andy smiled to himself, a mixture of amusement and frustration. Wily had his quirks, but he was good at what he did. Still, Andy had no intention of letting his supplies dwindle too low, especially not with the Echochron still in progress. He had to stay ahead of the game, both in his project and in his work.

  He stood up, stretching his legs, feeling the cramp in his back from hours hunched over the bench. His eyes scanned the cluttered shop. Layers of components, half-finished gadgets, and tools buried the workbenches—though the situation wasn’t too bad compared to the underground networks he had to navigate. That was a mess in itself—like trying to find order in chaos.

  He decided. He grabbed a few tools, pocketed some essential supplies, and tucked the Echochron into his bag. Time to test it. Time to see if his work had truly paid off.

  With a last glance around the shop, Andy ensured everything was in place. Wily wouldn’t be back until evening, giving him more than enough time to slip away unnoticed. The old man had his routines, and Andy had learned to navigate around them with ease. Tonight, he had one goal—getting into the underground and securing what he needed to push the Echochron to the next stage.

  Stepping outside, the crisp morning air greeted him, cool against his skin. The city was just beginning to stir, the first signs of movement rippling through the district as vendors prepared their stalls and workers emerged from their homes. But Andy’s mind was already elsewhere, locked onto his aim. He took every step and made every turn, calculating his path closer to the undercity access point. The Echochron needed upgrades, and the only way to keep his project—and his future—moving forward was to find the right parts.

  Before heading out, he made a brief detour. He slipped towards the back of the shop, where cluttered shelves overflowed with spare parts, rusted tools, and half-assembled devices. It was a chaotic mess only someone like Wily could navigate with ease. But Andy wasn’t searching through the usual junk. Hidden behind an old cabinet, beneath a tarp weighed down by discarded metal plates and forgotten scraps, was his actual target—his underground survival kit.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  It wasn’t much, but it was everything he needed to navigate the city’s subterranean labyrinth. He grabbed a thick, reinforced jacket lined with insulated padding—perfect for the temperature drops the deeper you went, as well as for protection from the occasional run-in with something sharp or dangerous. He also picked up a set of rugged, self-adhesive patch kits—small enough to fit in his pockets, but potent enough to seal up a cut or make a quick patch-up job if he got into trouble.

  Next, he grabbed a flashlight, the beam adjustable to cut through the darkness. This wasn’t just any flashlight—he rigged it with a high-frequency shifter to pick up strange signals or interference that could reveal hidden compartments or security systems.

  He strapped on a utility belt, which contained a series of multi-tools, a collapsible grappling hook, and an emergency ration pack—just in case.

  Finally, Andy grabbed a small pouch of dust—his “key” to avoiding the more dangerous areas. It was a concoction of powdered chemicals and crushed alloys that, when tossed into the air, emitted a unique electromagnetic field. This field had a peculiar effect: it scrambled the sensor and radar systems that most of the smaller bio-mutants relied on in the depths. It wasn’t foolproof, but it worked in a pinch, especially when he needed to avoid detection.

  Satisfied that he had everything, Andy double-checked the bag one last time and zipped it up. He had to be prepared. The underground was unpredictable, a vast, decaying city beneath the one above, full of forgotten places, hostile bio-mutants, and old tech that could either help him or kill him.

  With everything packed, Andy slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way back toward the front of the building. He felt a familiar surge of excitement and dread; his mind focused on the task ahead, but a part of him recalled his phobia of the underground—that suffocating fear haunting him since that night with Terra in the sewers.

  But this was different. The Echochron had been made to get him past the obstacles that had once stopped him, to give him control over the environment that had always been so daunting. It was time to face the darkness.

  He glanced toward the shop one last time, making sure everything was secure. Wily wouldn’t be back for hours. Andy was free to explore—just as long as he stayed under the radar.

  Andy adjusted the strap of his bag, tightening it across his shoulder as he stepped away from the repair shop and into the pulsing rhythm of the city. The air was thick with movement—workers hauling crates, vendors setting up their stalls, the murmur of deals being made in hushed tones, and the occasional bark of a merchant advertising his goods. The scent of sizzling meat and freshly baked bread mingled with the ever-present metallic tang of the district’s machinery.

  The marketplace was already alive despite the early hour. People bustled between stalls, haggling over prices, exchanging rations for supplies, and bartering whatever they could spare. Scrappy children darted through the crowd, slipping between gaps in the chaos, hands quick as they lifted unattended trinkets and baubles. The air hummed with the energy of survival—organized disorder that made the city feel as alive as its people.

  Andy moved with the flow, weaving through the thickening crowd with practiced ease. He spotted a group of off-duty Vanguard soldiers at a food cart, their black, insect-like armor standing out against the rusted tin and canvas of the market stalls. Their helmets were off, resting on their belts, revealing tired but sharp expressions. They were laughing, eating, enjoying what little peace they could carve out for themselves before heading back into the wasteland or the depths of the underground. Andy had never been one to envy them, but he respected them. They did the things others couldn’t—or wouldn’t.

  As he continued through the district, his eyes flicked toward a familiar storefront: Café Rook. From the open doorway wafted the scent of roasted beans and warm bread.

  Andy lingered across the street, glimpsing Lana behind the counter, her hair tied back, sleeves rolled up as she worked with quick, practiced efficiency. Even from the street, he could hear her teasing a customer about being late again, her voice carrying that same lighthearted charm she always seemed to have, even when the surrounding city was falling apart.

  Andy smirked to himself, shaking his head. Another time.

  Moving past the café, his route took him closer to the Nexus Bar—a place that carried an entirely distinct atmosphere. Unlike the inviting warmth of Café Rook, the Nexus fostered shadows and whispered conversations. It catered to scavengers, bounty hunters, mercenaries, and those who thrived on the city’s undercurrents. The neon sign flickered weakly above the entrance, casting a faint glow onto the grimy pavement below. Even in the daylight, the place looked like it belonged to the night.

  A few rough-looking men leaned against the exterior, deep in conversation. One of them caught Andy’s glance and gave a slow, knowing nod—a silent acknowledgment, a recognition that Andy didn’t return. He wasn’t here to be noticed. Not today.

  The underground awaited.