"The 404 doesn't go anywhere," the man laughed. "That’s why they call it the Void."
The overhead display flickered.
The Scrapper lunged. Kaelen was faster. He vaulted over the bench, his boots clattering against the metal grating. He dived through the closing doors of the 404 just as the Scrapper’s metal fingers scraped against the glass. DETBITINIS AUTOBUSOS TERMINALAS 1.39
Kaelen sat on a bench made of recycled polymer, watching the "ghost buses"—autonomous, translucent pods—glide into their docking bays. Terminal 1.39 was the lowest level of the central hub, a place where the air tasted like ozone and burnt rubber, and the passengers were mostly those trying to disappear. "The 404 doesn't go anywhere," the man laughed
He leaned back, the data-cube finally going cold in his hand. At Terminal 1.39, getting lost was the only way to be found. Kaelen was faster
As the bus accelerated into the lightless tunnel, the terminal faded into a blur of neon streaks. Kaelen looked at the holographic driver. She stopped knitting, looked at him with pixelated eyes, and whispered, "Destination: Nowhere. Enjoy the ride."