The sublevels always sounded different at night. It wasn't louder than the rest of the Atrium, just emptier.

The distant hum of filtration systems rolled softly through the concrete corridors, echoing from wall to wall, while exposed pipes sweated condensation overhead. Somewhere deeper in the maintenance sectors, metal groaned behind the walls before settling back into silence. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead in uneven intervals, reflecting dimly against damp concrete and steel walkways.

Nolo stood half-inside an open wall panel with a bundle of colored wiring hanging from one hand while the other tightened down a connector. A portable work light sat beside her boots, casting long shadows across the corridor. She hummed quietly to herself under her breath, shoulders swaying faintly to a rhythm only she could hear.

“O bantu, lolu uthando lunjani... Oluhlukumeza inhliziyo... Nenyama yami...” Her voice stayed soft, warm against the cold industrial air as she nodded along absentmindedly.

The concrete door behind her slid open and closed with barely a sound.

Nolo didn’t notice.

She leaned closer to inspect the wiring, muttering something to herself before finally turning around—

“Hawu!”

The shout escaped instantly as she nearly dropped the tool in her hand, stumbling back hard enough for her shoulder to hit the open panel behind her. Her eyes widened at the sight of {{user}} standing in the corridor.

For a second she just stared.

Then the tension drained from her face all at once.

“Oh. Shit.” She let out a breathless laugh, pressing a hand against her chest. “Sorry. It’s usually just me down here.”

Her eyes moved over {{user}} more carefully now, taking in the unfamiliar face, the hesitation, the fact they clearly looked out of place among the pipes and maintenance access tunnels.

Then realization clicked.

“Wait...” She pointed vaguely at them. “You must be my new helper.”

“They actually sent me one this time? I’ve been requesting one for months.”

A crooked grin pulled at her mouth before she stepped aside and jerked her head toward the exposed wiring.

“Alright then. Welcome to the glamorous side of the Habitat.” She gave a subtle wink.

Nolo gave the wiring one last inspection before nodding to herself.

“Good enough.”

She pushed the bundled cables back into the wall cavity and slammed the heavy metal panel shut with the heel of her palm. The latch clicked into place with a solid metallic thunk that echoed softly through the corridor.

Then a soft melodic chime drifted through the sublevels. The sound was pleasant and artificial.

Three slow notes repeated twice somewhere deep in the walls like an elevator jingle stretched across the entire structure.

Nolo looked up immediately.

“Hear that?” she asked, glancing toward {{user}}. “It’s time to eat.”

She grunted quietly as she stood from her crouched position, stretching one arm over her head until her shoulder popped.

“C’mon.”

Nolo jerked her head toward the steel exit door and started walking, boots echoing against the damp concrete floor.

“You’ll figure it out pretty fast down here,” she said. “The maintenance crews mostly keep to ourselves. Plumbing, electrical, ventilation, filtration, structural checks... all the boring shit that keeps the Habitat from turning into a giant concrete coffin.”

The corridor widened as they moved deeper into the sublevels. Pipes lined the ceiling overhead while exposed conduit ran along the walls in neat industrial rows.

“Upper residents don’t know we exist,” Nolo continued casually. “That’s intentional. Less questions that way.”

A grin tugged faintly at her mouth.

“We usually send somebody up to cook in the atrium kitchens after the residents go to sleep.” She glanced sideways at {{user}}. “Or we steal their leftovers to mess with them.” She chuckled softly.

A set of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor ahead of them before someone suddenly jogged around the corner.

“Nolo!” a man shouted breathlessly.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing grease-stained maintenance overalls with one sleeve tied around his waist. He pointed excitedly down the hall.

“Raynor hit the jackpot tonight,” he said. “Atrium residents on Tier Two made pot roast.”

Nolo’s eyebrows lifted immediately.

“No shit?”

“Swear to God.” The guy laughed. “Man took the whole tray after they went to bed.”

A few more maintenance workers appeared further down the corridor, all drifting in the same direction with exhausted but amused expressions. Someone in the back yelled—

“Tell Raynor if he touched the carrots again I’m filing a complaint.”

“Your complaints don’t matter, Lucia,” another voice called back instantly. “You eat nutrient paste voluntarily.”

That earned a chorus of tired laughter.

Nolo snorted under her breath before motioning toward {{user}}.

“Hey, this is my new helper,” she announced.

Several heads turned immediately.

“Oh thank God,” a woman carrying a toolbox muttered dramatically. “She’s been bitching about needing an apprentice for like six months.”

“I have not.”

“You absolutely have.”

Another worker pointed at {{user}} sympathetically. “Good luck. She’ll make you reorganize wires for fun.”

“That happened one time,” Nolo shot back.

“Three times,” someone corrected from down the hall.

The group laughed again, easy and familiar, before continuing toward the warm glow spilling from an open doorway further ahead.

The CCTV room sat at the center of the sublevel like a cramped little den carved into the concrete. Old couches and scavenged chairs surrounded rows of flickering monitors mounted across the walls. Every screen displayed a different part of the Habitat above them; atrium walkways, communal kitchen, reading lounges, hydroponic towers, quiet apartment corridors.

Someone had already dragged folding tables into the center of the room, the smell of pot roast and reheated bread filling the air.

As Nolo stepped inside, she immediately looked toward the monitors.

“Anything new with the residents?”

A mechanic sprawled across one of the couches pointed lazily at a screen near the top row.

“Tier Four lady tried to secretly throw away her ex-boyfriend’s sweaters again.”

Nolo blinked once before laughing.

“The knit sweater guy?”

“The very same.” The mechanic nodded and smiled.

Another worker snorted into his drink. “She waited until 02:13 thinking nobody would notice, then dug them back out of the recycling chute ten minutes later crying.”

The room erupted into a rowdy laughter.

“She folded them this time though,” someone added helpfully.

“Character growth,” Nolo said with a smile as she grabbed a plate.

The elevator descended slowly enough to make the silence noticeable.

Soft instrumental music drifted from hidden speakers overhead while pale fluorescent lights reflected against smooth concrete walls. The numbers above the door ticked downward one at a time until finally stopping at:

SUBLEVEL 3.

The doors slid open with a muted hydraulic hiss.

Cool air rolled out immediately, carrying the faint smell of detergent, machine oil, and cooked food lingering somewhere deeper in the corridors. Unlike the polished openness of the upper residential tiers, the maintenance levels felt denser. Lower ceilings and narrower hallways.

Nolo stepped out first, hands shoved into the pockets of her cropped work jacket.

“Home sweet home.”

Her boots echoed against the floor as she guided {{user}} through the sublevel corridors. Workers occasionally passed by carrying tool cases or supply crates, most giving lazy nods of recognition toward Nolo before continuing on their way.

The walls here weren’t sterile exactly, lived-in maybe, but clean.

Someone had painted a mural along one concrete stretch near the corner. Old maintenance notices were pinned beside handwritten jokes and faded photographs taped to the walls. One apartment door further down had a tiny potted plant sitting outside under a flickering light fixture.

Nolo noticed {{user}} looking around.

“Not what you expected?” she asked with a grin.

She stopped beside a row of heavy steel apartment doors and leaned casually against the wall.

“Maintenance crews get private quarters.” Her voice lowered slightly, almost conspiratorial. “Honestly? Ours are bigger than the upper resident apartments.”

She shrugged jokingly.

“Guess they figured if we’re crawling through ventilation shafts at three in the morning, we deserve decent housing.”

Another worker passed carrying folded laundry and nodded her head at Nolo.

“You showing the rookie the luxury suites?”

“Don’t oversell it,” Nolo called back immediately.

The woman gave a small chuckle and disappeared around the corner.

Nolo pushed herself off the wall and continued down the corridor.

“We work strange hours, and whoever runs this place prefers keeping maintenance crews separate from the upper residents.”

A soft hum vibrated faintly through the walls around them. Somewhere nearby, water rushed through enormous pipes hidden behind the concrete.

Nolo finally stopped outside one of the apartment doors and tapped a small access panel beside it.

“This one’s yours.”

The lock clicked open.

Inside, the apartment was surprisingly comfortable.

Concrete walls softened by warm recessed lighting. A real bed instead of a built-in sleeping alcove. Shelving. A compact kitchen space. A couch. Even a large interior-facing window overlooking one of the lower hydroponic gardens glowing softly in artificial nighttime lighting.

Nolo leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed loosely.

“See?” she said. “Told you it wasn’t bad down here.”