They didn't stay in the catacombs.

Garcia kept his hand firmly on David’s uninjured shoulder, guiding his stumbling, heavy steps through a dizzying maze of concrete service tunnels. Every few minutes, a distant, mechanical click would echo through the walls, forcing them to press themselves flat against the shadows while a Syndicate drone or patrol team marched past.

David cradled his mutated right arm close to his chest. It felt completely dead, yet it vibrated with a low, electrical heat that made his skin crawl.

"Garcia," David whispered, his voice cracking from the dry, sterile air. "What... what exactly is this thing on my shoulder? What is the artifact?"

Garcia didn't answer immediately. He kept moving, one hand tightly gripping his left side. Underneath his fingers, a dark patch of blood was slowly spreading through his shirt from his earlier encounter on the catwalk. He let out a sharp, ragged breath before speaking.

"You wanted to meet our God, didn't you?" Garcia muttered, his voice dropping to a raspy exhale. "You wanted to see the entity the Church worships. We call him The Guide."

He paused, leaning against a rusted pipe to catch his breath before pushing forward.

"We are headed to my base. It's a long walk, but we have to get there. Safest place left in this sector."

[Vertical Space: Long scroll to emphasize a monotonous, exhausting journey through endless identical tunnels]

"But the relic..." David pressed, his eyes locked on the pulsing golden code under his torn flesh. "What did it do to me?"

"The artifact is just an energy manipulation tool," Garcia explained, not looking back. "It isn't magic. It's a remnant. A piece of highly advanced technology left behind by our God."

Garcia stopped at a concrete junction, checking the shadows before gesturing for David to follow.

"The Guide isn't a monster, David. He’s a traveler. A dimensional entity that roams through the fabric of these levels, rewriting the code of the Backrooms as he goes. The Syndicate wants to capture him. They want to harvest his code to build weapons... like whatever they are turning your girl into."

David’s heart sank, the image of Lisa’s black, weeping eyes flashing behind his eyelids. "Can the Guide save her?"

"If we reach him, maybe," Garcia said, his voice straining as he winced, his hand clutching his bleeding side even tighter. "But look at me, kid. I'm running on empty. It’s a long walk through these lower sectors. Stay with me. Don't fall behind."

David nodded numbly, his mutated arm letting out a loud, glitched pop as it accidentally brushed against a loose wire on the wall.

Up ahead, the endless concrete walls finally began to shift, transitioning into a dark, massive iron threshold covered in the hand-painted, crude symbols of Garcia's church.

They had reached the perimeter of the base.