Chapter 3: Shadows in the Outer Ring

The outer ring never truly slept. It merely dimmed—lights cycling to 40% power, corridors thinning of foot traffic, the constant thrum of life support systems dropping to a lower, almost intimate register. The air down here carried a different weight: heavier with the scent of overheated wiring, synthetic grease, and the faint metallic bite of recycled moisture that never quite shook the rust. Walkways narrowed into twisting service alleys; hab-units stacked three and four high leaned against one another like tired drunks, patched with mismatched plating salvaged from decommissioned sections.