The cold steel bit into my fingers. I welcomed the sting.

I locked my elbows, swung my legs up, found the rhythm. Anchor. Step. Reach. Twist. Brace. The shaft swallowed the sound of me, wrapped me in a silence that wasn't peaceful. Dense. Mechanical. Close, like the structure was listening. Above, a rectangle of pale light glowed at the end of the shaft. Not just illumination. Direction.

I climbed.

Slow at first. My body was stiff, knees tight, shoulders aching, but motion returned quickly. Repetition steadied me. The walls pressed in, lined with conduit and rusted piping, beads of condensation tracking down like sweat. Weeds broke through cracks in the concrete. Soft green in the gray.

Even here, life kept pushing. So did I.

By halfway, sweat had soaked through my shirt. It slid down my spine and stung the torn patches on my wrists where the wraps had rubbed raw. Pain stayed, but it went quiet. Adrenaline pulsed under my skin, steady as breath. The climb stopped feeling like effort and started feeling like the only thing.

Seven stories. Eight. Nine.

I paused. Let one arm hang to shake out the tension. My lungs worked hard, but clean. No panic. Just movement. My heart pounded. Not fear. Work. I looked up again.

The light had shifted. Warmer now. The color of morning.

And then I saw it.

The remaining section of the ladder. The part they hadn't stripped out. Intact rungs leading straight up to the surface hatch. I reached, still not trusting it, and my fingers closed around the rung.

It held.

That was enough.

I pulled myself up fast, burning through what strength I had left. Hands rung to rung. Boots finding purchase. The light grew closer. Real sunlight, slanting golden and sharp. The cold receded. The smell changed. Less rust, more air.

The hatch was open.

One last push.

I hauled myself over the edge, muscles trembling but sure.

Boots hit the rooftop.

Solid.

Sky above me. Huge, clear. Wind caught my jacket, warm against my face. The city stretched out in every direction: steel, shadow, and green pushing back through the seams. And the antenna, just ahead, stood waiting.

The light wasn't metaphor.

It was morning.

And I was here.

Character: Aurora

Released on February 28, 2026 (26_2)

License: CC-BY-NC-ND / UDL