To say we had simply "arrived" would be a gross understatement, considering the grueling trek it took to get here.
We had descended through countless layers.
The route projected on my holo-terminal was intended for vehicles. Using that as a base, I’d had to manually search for shortcuts that were navigable on foot.
While we found several elevators along the way, some were functional while others were rusted hulks. Even if I could have repaired the machinery itself, they were useless without a live power source. Consequently, I’d had to construct a path while staring intently at the map—climbing cargo ladders, scaling maintenance stairs, and traversing narrow scaffolding beside massive drainage channels.
Damp with sweat, my inner garments clung to my skin. The humid, subterranean air only amplified the growing sense of discomfort.
The security we encountered was much like the gate from before—sparse patrols and automated systems. It seemed that once someone managed to penetrate this far down, the oversight became merely performative.
Whether that was a display of absolute confidence or something else entirely, I couldn’t say.
Then, finally, all communication with the outside world vanished.
The signal indicator on my terminal had gone blank a while back.
We had officially stepped into the place they called the Black Box.
And yet…
What lay before my eyes wasn't the macabre abyss I had anticipated.
The space was vast—unbelievably so.
Massive pillars rose from the floor like the ribs of a titan, forming the skeletal framework that supported the monster known as Neo Babel. They were so tall that no matter how much I strained my neck, I couldn’t see where they met the ceiling.
That much was expected. They were structural necessities; their presence was only natural.
But this?
Deep within the gloom of the distant ceiling—hovering in a haze—was a giant sphere of energy. It was an artificial sun, acting as a surrogate for the surface by regulating temperature and humidity. It appeared to be set to a nighttime cycle; a pale blue glow, reminiscent of moonlight, bathed the ground in a soft, ethereal radiance.
There were meadows.
Fields.
Flowerbeds.
The contrast between this and the grime-slicked path we had traveled was jarring. Houses were scattered here and there; though they were constructed of inorganic concrete, the way they were nestled in the surrounding greenery gave them a strangely pastoral appearance.
It felt like a sick joke that such tranquility could exist in an underworld otherwise defined by neon, steel, and oil.
“…Is this really the Lowest District? It’s so… peaceful,” Kaya muttered, shifting her hood and narrowing her eyes as she took in the view. Her hair billowed softly, swaying with a faint shimmer in the blue light.
“Who knows? It’s my first time here, too.”
I let my gaze wander into the distance. Beyond the cluster of houses, a massive structure sat heavily on the landscape, its atmosphere entirely distinct from its surroundings. It was a foreign object thrust into the heart of a farming village—a heavy legacy that looked like a fortified castle.
The destination marker on my holo-route pointed directly at it. That was the base involving the Order. There was no doubt about it.
“Still… I’ve never seen flowers and grass spread out like this. It’s beautiful.”
Kaya wandered nonchalantly toward a flowerbed. The blooms, illuminated by the artificial moonlight, seemed to glow with a faint internal light. They were vivid shades of white, purple, and blue—and I felt a prickle of recognition.
A sharp, unpleasant memory jabbed at my brain.
“Stay back!”
My voice came out sharper than I intended. Kaya flinched, her shoulders jumping. Her fingertips stopped just inches away from a petal.
“W-What? You scared me!” she snapped, turning back with a look of reproach.
I took a step toward her and spoke in a low, urgent tone, pulling her away from the plants.
“Those are poisonous. There are microscopic thorns on the underside of the petals. If you get pricked, you’re in trouble.”
I crouched down, indicating the underside of a petal with my finger. To the naked eye, the thorns were invisible, but at just the right angle, the blue light caught a glinting row of needles.
“A paralytic toxin enters through the skin. A small dose will just make your arm go numb, but a large amount causes total paralysis. They’re also the primary ingredient for certain narcotics—cultivating them is strictly prohibited.”
By the time I finished, Kaya’s face had turned a shade of pale.
“…Wait, all of these?” she asked, looking back at the fields.
The scenery that had looked beautiful moments ago now seemed as if it had been repainted with toxic, sickly hues.
“Most likely. They’re supposed to be incredibly difficult to grow…”
From what I recalled, no syndicate touched these because they couldn't be mass-produced. That was exactly why they fetched such a high price on the market. Yet here, they were being cultivated in open fields as if they were common crops.
I carefully dug up a single plant by the roots, sealed it in a container I pulled from my robe, and tucked it into a storage case in my pocket.
I’d investigate it later. It would be a vital clue to what this place was really for.
Right then—
“…You people. Where’d you come from?”
A voice drifted over from behind us. My spine stiffened. Kaya reflexively stepped back half a pace.
I turned to find a man in work clothes standing there. His face was weathered by the sun, and his hands were thick and calloused. He looked like a simple farmer. However, his eyes were sharp, gauging us with a calculating intensity.
A speech bubble floated above his head.
<They said at the last meeting that a new believer would be coming… is it these two?>
I see. How convenient.
I forced my expression to soften, letting the corners of my mouth turn up in a gentle curve and relaxing my eyes. I intentionally projected the image of a harmless newcomer.
“We’ve only just recently come under the Order’s care,” I said, my voice warm and affable. “We arrived just a moment ago and were… taking a look around.”
Kaya, catching on to the ruse, put on a quiet, innocent smile. So long as she remained silent, she looked like nothing more than a fair-faced youth.
I watched the man’s wariness drop, if only by a fraction.
“Ah, I see.” He nodded, looking somewhat relieved, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Well then, welcome. We all owe a great deal to the folks in the Order.”
His tone was rustic and kind—yet there was something strangely practiced about it.
Hiding my inner relief, I gave a polite bow. “Thank you. If it’s not too much trouble, perhaps you could tell us a bit more about the area?”
“Of course, happy to. This way,” the man said, turning to lead the way.
Kaya and I exchanged a brief look and followed him in silence. Beneath the pale blue moonlight, the grass brushed against my boots, and the scent of damp earth filled the air. The breeze was gentle; the scenery was tranquil.
And yet, that field of flowers had already given me a glimpse into the true nature of this place.
First, I needed information. I needed to figure out exactly what they were trying to achieve here.
I tightened my fist slightly beneath my robe, matching my stride to the man’s back while keeping an eye on his speech bubble.
Now then. Let’s hear what this "Order’s Village" is all about.