The group had already left the city far behind. All that lay ahead was a deep passage stretching into the distance. Looking back toward the city, they could see only a faint glimmer of light—a sight that required vision beyond the limits of human eyesight to make out.
The air around them was filthy, almost toxic. It was obvious that Hao Ren and the others had chosen a gate that had never been opened: the air behind it had never been changed.
The passage was extremely spacious, and most of its structure remained intact. There was none of the cramped decay they had expected. It was merely old and filthy, with thick dust everywhere. Everything bore heavy marks of erosion from the passage of time. Compared with the fully enclosed city that had operated continuously, this place clearly lacked the necessary cleaning and maintenance.
In the center of the passage lay many parallel steel tracks. Though their structure differed from the railways on Earth, it was still obvious that they had been built for some kind of large transport vehicle. If this planet had not suffered a disaster, this passage should have been a busy subway line connecting the city to a major transportation hub—a vital artery. Now, however, it was merely an abandoned cavern left to decay for ten thousand years. Other than dust, it contained only old machines of uncertain operability.
A row of dim lights was embedded in the ceiling. Eight or nine out of every ten were still functioning, and they were the only proof that the passage had not been completely abandoned. By their inadequate glow, the group could make out the surroundings. Hao Ren saw all kinds of discarded machinery piled along both sides, including rust-covered carriages and robots coated in dust. Lily went