Chapter 13: Into the Hollow
Ira turned back to Aanya one last time, crouching beside her bed. "I swear to you, I'm coming back," she whispered, squeezing Aanya's trembling hand. "Don't move. Don't speak. Just hold on."
Aanya gave the faintest nod, her lips parting as if to protest, but Ira was already pulling away.
The whine of alarms in the background masked the sound of Ira and Ishita hauling the vent panel aside. With no time to spare, they boosted themselves one after the other into the narrow ventilation shaft above the ward. It was barely wide enough for them to crawl on their hands and knees.
Ira went first, her breath echoing in the metal corridor. The shaft vibrated with every distant footstep below, every flicker of movement in the facility. Ishita followed close behind—neither ahead nor lagging, simply crawling in sync, with only inches between them. Their shoes were removed and tied to their belts to avoid making noise against the thin metal. This wasn't a hallway. This was a cramped, dusty artery threading through the hospital's body.
"Left fork leads toward the west wing," Ishita muttered, her voice a bare whisper behind Ira. "If we make it past that, we can drop near the maintenance tunnel."
Ira nodded silently. No unnecessary noise. No wasted movement. Her muscles burned as she dragged herself forward. She had no idea how Ishita knew the layout so well—but there was no time to ask.
Suddenly, a low buzz filled the shaft. Not the alarms.
A voice.
Faint. Mechanical. Distorted by static.
"I see you."
Ira froze.
The voice didn't belong to Menon. It wasn't anyone she recognized. It was coming from inside the vent.
"Keep moving," Ishita whispered, the urgency now like icewater. "We can't stop."
They pushed forward. Five turns. A slope. Then a grate. Ira pressed her ear against it.
"Quiet," she mouthed. Below, two guards were patrolling a side corridor. She waited until the sound of their boots faded.
Ishita passed her a small screwdriver-like tool from her belt. Without a word, Ira unscrewed the grate and lowered it silently to the floor below. They dropped down into the dim, abandoned hallway of the sub-level.
Concrete. Low lights. Smelled like antiseptic and rust.
"Where the hell are we?" Ira asked.
Ishita tapped into the hospital's directory on her wristband—not an implant, just an encrypted device she used for mapping. "Sub-level C. If we cut through here, we'll reach the backup generator room. There's a secured passage beyond it."
"How do you know all this?" Ira asked.
Ishita hesitated. "I've been here before."
Ira's eyes narrowed but she didn't press.
They moved. The lights flickered. The walls dripped condensation. Every second felt borrowed.
Then the voice returned. Louder. Closer.
"You're persistent, Dr. Mehta. You too, Dr. Chauhan. But you're in my house now."
Ira and Ishita froze.
A door ahead creaked open on its own. Just a few feet.
Ishita stepped in front of Ira, motioning for silence. "We go together," she said.
They entered the chamber cautiously. Inside, rows of screens blinked to life. Surveillance footage from every part of the facility. Including the ward where Aanya lay.
"He's watching everything," Ira whispered.
The door slammed shut behind them. The lights above turned red.
"This is the heart of it," Ishita muttered. "We found Geneva."
"Geneva?" Ira repeated. "The city?"
"No," Ishita said. "A nickname for this place among the elite research circle. Off-books, off-limits. If we make it out of here, we have proof."
A screen in front of them glitched. A silhouette appeared—a man, face obscured, sitting in shadow.
"You shouldn't have come here," the voice said.
Ira stepped forward, fists clenched. "Who are you?"
Silence.
Then the screens blinked out.
The silence felt heavier than anything else.
"Let's move," Ishita said. "Before he turns the whole system against us."
They pried open the door and stepped deeper into the underground, the mystery of Geneva unfurling around them like a living, breathing machine.