Coraline Tunnel Novels & Stories

"He tried to follow her into the tunnel but ran off when someone fired some shots." "Great." I sighed. "So, left corner of the basement. Narrow door behind a storage room. Concrete tunnel. Then what? It goes straight into the bunker?" "Negative." Alei sighed and made a face. "The additional cables still didn't reach the end of the tunnel. They must have put some traps in there." "Yeah?" I cocked my handgun and headed for the opening. We stood in the entrance of the maze now, the cold gusts shaking the leaves on the thick hedges and tall trees surrounding us.

The tunnels were a labyrinth of dripping concrete and rusted pipes. The air was thick with the stench of stagnant water and the hum of high-voltage cables running toward the city center. Every few seconds, the entire structure vibrated as a subway train roared somewhere above them, sending showers of grit and rust onto their heads. Sora led the way. His silver eyes pierced the gloom, turning the pitch-black corridor into a world of sharp, monochromatic edges. "Turn left at the junction," Aidan wheezed. He was being dragged by Vardan, his boots scuffing through the oily sludge on the floor. "The main power conduit for the Citadel's external shield is behind the reinforced bulkhead."

Pain shot through her collarbone, and to her surprise, the panel behind her shifted. She gasped. A hidden corridor opened—dark, dusty, and silent. Knee-jerkingly, Camela jerked back, her heart racing. Vincent stared at her. “Clever.” She stepped toward the corridor. “There’s no lock here.” “A queen finds her exit…or dies looking,” he replied cryptically. Camela swallowed hard, gripping the key tightly. She slipped into the darkness. The tunnel was narrow and damp. Camela crawled, weaving through low ceilings and twisted bricks.

Cold air rushed out, carrying the smell of damp stone, stagnant runoff, and something older. “Go,” Luca said. Ethan slipped inside first, clutching the USB drive like a lifeline. Luca followed and shut the metal door behind them just as the first agent reached the ramp. The tunnel was narrow, wet, and uneven. Water pooled along the floor, running in shallow streams. The walls were rough concrete coated in algae and grime, like a claustrophobic artery buried beneath the coast. “Where does this lead?” Ethan asked, breathing hard. “Under the coastal highway,” Luca answered. “Then into the older sewer channels beneath Nice.”

Using their binoculars, they saw that the rings had cameras and security lights on them so they could not be approached from underwater. Derrick signaled for Rolph to wait and he swam to the surface then came back and signaled for Rolph to follow him. They swam in the opposite direction for some time and when they broke the surface of the water, they found themselves in what looked like an enclosed cave tunnel that went on and on with white bulbs overhead. This cave tunnel looked like an underground train tunnel and can take three trucks driving side by side at once. It looked like it was built with the same materials the ring well that went deep down into the sea was made of.

Lena used the fiber-drill to punch a palm-sized hole into the wall and injected a crack pulse. The sheet hissed. Melted. Revealed a tunnel descending into pure black. They entered. Twenty meters down, the shaft widened into a hexagonal corridor reinforced with carbon-steel ribs. The walls were coated in rime. No heat. No sound. No movement. They split into two teams—Lena and Eleni on recon. Jessica and Torin trailing to map and patch into any surviving data nodes. Within minutes, the silence began to change. A hum.

B: The Whispering Coral The sea was too quiet. That was the first thing Calista noticed as their skiff cut through the shallows of the Crescent Reach, nearing the structure Taye had called "The Whispering Coral." She had expected gulls, the lap of waves, the howl of wind—but all she heard was the muffled thud of water against hull and the distant hum of something ancient, something alive. Not just alive, but listening. The trench appeared out of the fog like a wound in the sea—an elliptical chasm of pale coral ridges glowing with inner light. The shapes were unnatural, too symmetrical to be made by currents or time. Coral should not shimmer like bone.

Marcel pointed to Morgan, his finger resting on an intersection of very old piping on his laptop. "That secret tunnel you mentioned? What is it? Is it not complicated inside?" Morgan asked. "It’s an underground maintenance tunnel, not a secret at all. Lorenzo hired a local team to create a new entrance to the old bunker via this tunnel. It is the weakest entry point, but it will still be guarded," Marcel replied. "How many guards? Are they cheap security?" "A dozen at the entrance, and maybe thirty inside. But we won't go through the main entrance. We'll go through the water pipe system. We only need three people. You, me, and one more," Marcel stated.

The end of the tunnel was so tight and twisting that it was a struggle to breathe, and the lack of air made Chantelle gag the whole way through. Andrew squeezed out first and reached back to help her. Both of them were covered in dirt, but they had finally made it safely back into the Fallen Crimson Dynasty royal tomb. The tunnel opening was right above their heads, cleverly hidden just behind a crossbeam. After landing, Andrew quickly surveyed their surroundings. He found they were in a common corridor connecting to the underground palace. Generally speaking, one side of the corridor led to the palace's outer areas, while the other side led to the main entrance of the underground palace.

It creaked open slowly. Darkness waited on the other side. Arun turned on a small tactical flashlight. A long underground corridor stretched before them. Stone walls. Ancient rails. Dust. Alina stepped inside cautiously. “What is this place?” “An abandoned transport line,” Arun explained. “Used decades ago to move goods between docks.” “Illegal goods,” Lena added. “Obviously.” Alina glanced behind them. “You think the Ghost won’t follow?” Arun shook his head. “Oh, he will.”