The Endgame Chronicles (by Hugh White) novel Chapter 524

Chapter 524

Level One of Ark Three was where the regular people lived.

It was split into two main zones: housing and production.

Around 15 thousand people were packed into the residential area. It held the most people and the least space.

They also carried the heaviest workload.

Hydroponic farming, small–scale livestock, textile work, equipment repairs, waste hauling. All the most basic most exhausting jobs landed here.

Level Two handled secondary processing and energy supply. Lighter work, better conditions.

Above that came research, including tech and virus labs.

The top two levels did nothing at all.

Level Four existed purely to entertain Level Five with music, dancers, and shows.

“This is the bottom of the base,” Nathaniel said as the elevator doors slid open. “Nothing worth seeing.”

It was dinner time.

People streamed toward the cafeteria to collect their meals.

Tonight counted as a good meal. One bread roll per person, plus a bowl of vegetable soup.

Everyone looked happy, cradling bowls of soup that had clearly been watered down and reheated a dozen times. There wasn’t a single shimmer of grease on the surface, just cloudy water with a few unidentifiable scraps settled at the bottom.

“Do the civilians at Base K1 get meals like this?” Nathaniel asked, glancing at the bowls with practiced superiority.

Hayley took a slow breath. “No. Not even close.”

Nathaniel nodded, satisfied. “That’s what I thought. The Ark bases, if nothing else, are a paradise for people like them.”

Hayley stared at him, absolutely speechless.

Just then, a loud crash echoed ahead.

Someone had spilled their soup.

“Where did you get the meat from? Did you steal it?”

In the hallway between the dorm blocks, a burly man in a manager’s uniform caught the scent. He grabbed a small boy by the collar and knocked the bowl from his hands.

With one rough motion, he shoved a hand into the boy’s thin clothes and yanked out a bundled package from his

waist.

It hit the floor with a wet slap.

Out rolled a golden roasted drumstick, thick, glossy shrimp, and ribs gone cold, streaked with hardened white fat.

The layer of congealed grease on those ribs caught the light, rich and heavy. It made people’s eyes burn with

1/2

hunger.

+15 Bonus

They looked ready to dive at it, throw the ribs into their steaming broth to soak, then drag them back out and lick every last drop of grease from the bowl.

This was real food!

People froze mid–step. Everyone holding a bowl stopped and stared.

“I didn’t steal it!” the boy cried. “I found it!”

“Don’t lie!” the manager snarled. “You think food like this just gets found?”

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