The air reeked of rust and mold when Zarc forced the service hatch open.His flashlight sliced through the dark, catching flakes of dust that danced like ashes. The beam swept across a narrow tunnel lined with cracked tiles, its walls smeared with something dark and long dried. The silence was thick—too thick. No dripping water, no moaning infected, no hum of working generators. Just his own breath beneath the filter mask.
He checked the surface above one last time through the crack of the hatch. The world outside was dim, fog heavy with the smell of burnt oil and rain. Nothing moved. Good. He gripped the metal handle of his flashlight tighter and descended into the hole.
The ladder groaned as his boots hit each rung. He moved slow, methodical—down into what the old maps marked as Haven Sublevel Complex-3. Most scavengers avoided it. Rumor said it had sealed itself off two years ago after the outbreak began. The whole area above had been flattened by the government's "cleansing operations."But rumors also said it was once a biotech site—and biotech meant tech worth trading.
When his boots hit the concrete floor, he scanned the corridor ahead. Rusted signs pointed left toward "Admin Wing," right toward "Containment Access." The letters HAVEN BIOTECH SYSTEMS INC. were still visible beneath a smear of old blood.
Zarc adjusted the strap of his bag, checked the Glock holstered on his thigh, and flicked his flashlight toward the right-hand passage.No sound.Just rows of overturned carts and the faint glitter of shattered glass.
He walked carefully, breathing shallowly through the mask. Every step echoed faintly against metal walls. The deeper he went, the thicker the air became—a damp, stale weight that clung to his jacket.
He passed corpses slumped against doors and desks, all long desiccated. They weren't turned. Just... dead.Zarc crouched beside one, brushed the dust from its chest badge:H. SECURITY — M. ALCANTARA.No bites. No blood splatter. They looked like they'd starved here, trapped.
He exhaled slowly. "So it did lock down."
The facility had sealed itself after the virus outbreak—just as he suspected. No escape. No rescue.He stood, moved on.
The halls wound deeper, doors hanging loose on bent hinges. Some rooms had collapsed ceilings where vines had crept in from the cracks above. Others still held overturned lab equipment, shattered monitors, and crumpled research papers.
His flashlight caught a flicker of metallic reflection in the corner of one storage room. Zarc stepped closer.On the floor lay a small cube, half-buried beneath fallen cables. About the size of his palm, matte black, with faint golden lines that pulsed dimly. It wasn't standard lab equipment.
Zarc frowned, crouched, and wiped off the grime. The moment his gloved fingers brushed it, the Cube pulsed once—then unfolded like liquid metal."Whoa—"
Before he could pull back, the cube melted into a stream of light and latched onto his right forearm. He stumbled back, hitting the wall hard, flashlight clattering to the floor.The metallic light crawled beneath his sleeve, spreading along his skin like mercury veins. His pulse thundered in his ears.
Then, a mechanical voice echoed in his head—faint, distorted.
[Link Established: Unknown Origin Prototype 02][User Integration: 47%… 73%… 100%][Host Recognized — Civilian Genetic Signature Confirmed]
Zarc gasped, staring as the light faded. What remained was a faint, dark pattern embedded under his skin—like circuitry etched into his arm.He flexed his hand. No pain. No heat. Just a soft vibration in his veins.
"The hell…"
He knelt, retrieved his flashlight, and pointed it at the empty floor. The Cube was gone—fully merged. Only scorch marks and fine dust remained.
[System Initializing: Unknown Origin Active.][Data Fragment: Haven Sublevel Complex-3 — Classified Access Confirmed.]
Zarc's throat went dry. Haven. That was the logo on every sealed door.He looked around the room again—storage racks, dead monitors, a collapsed vent shaft. The Cube—no, Unknown Origin—was tied to this place. Whatever it was, it hadn't died with the rest of them.
For a moment, panic clawed at him. The idea of something alien inside his body, alive and humming—He swallowed hard, steadied his breathing. "Okay… okay. Don't lose it."
He pointed the flashlight toward a half-open door ahead labeled MAINTENANCE CONTROL. Maybe he could find a terminal or security feed—something that explained what this Cube was.
As he crossed the threshold, his boots splashed faintly against a shallow puddle. The air here was colder. He shined the light across the walls, revealing racks of circuit boards, coiled cables, and control panels half-melted from heat damage.
He exhaled through his mask, voice muffled. "If this thing's been sealed since 2023, power shouldn't still be running."
A faint hum vibrated from his arm. A holographic interface flickered into the air—thin, blue, unstable. His breath caught.
[Local Data Access Possible — Power Cell at 9%.][Recommend establishing connection with mainframe.]
He blinked. "You… can talk?"
No response—just a soft pulse of light from the markings on his wrist.He looked around the dark room again, his flashlight beam steady. Whatever he'd found wasn't just tech. It was something far beyond anything Haven—or anyone—should've had.
Zarc holstered his pistol, glanced toward the long, descending hallway beyond the maintenance door, its floor marked by the faint trail of dried footprints.He took one step forward, then another.
Somewhere below, the Unknown Origin Cube pulsed once more—soft, rhythmic, like a heartbeat.