The Hollow's fire had burned low by dawn. Kael stood at the edge of the subway tunnel, the drone's map clutched in his hand. The university tower loomed in his mind—a jagged silhouette against a blood-orange sky. He'd seen it in dreams for weeks, but now it felt like a memory clawing its way out of his skull.
"You're insane," Rook said, arms crossed. She'd summoned the group for a "vote," though everyone knew her word was law. "That drone's a trap. Could be Visitors, could be a nest of Rot big enough to swallow us whole."
"It's not a trap," Kael insisted. "It's a lead . The Visitors left this. They're trying to tell us something."
"Or they're herding us," spat Elias, the medic. His prosthetic leg thumped as he paced. "Last time we followed one of those things, half the group died in a Fracture."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the survivors. Mara stood apart, her eyes locked on Kael. She didn't speak, but her silence was louder than the dissenters.
"They're not herding us," Kael said, voice rising. "They're pointing us. To answers. To a way to end this."
"To what end?" Rook sneered. "You think you're some kind of savior?"
Kael flinched. The voices hissed: "You're the cause, not the cure."
"I'm not," he muttered.
"Then why risk it?"
Because the dreams were worsening. Because the tower called to him like a phantom limb. Because he needed to know why the AI—Project Echo—had chosen his mind as its prison.
But he said nothing.
Mara stepped forward. "We go. If Kael's wrong, we turn back. But if he's right…" She trailed off, the unspoken promise hanging in the air: Hope. A future.
Rook glared at her, then the group. "Fine. We vote."
The tally split—11 to 10. The decision hung on Elias.
The medic hesitated, then nodded. "Let's go."
The journey took them through the skeletal remains of the city. Skyscrapers leaned like drunkards, their windows shattered, vines strangling their frames. The air reeked of damp concrete and decay.
Kael led the way, the map guiding them toward the university. Mara walked beside him, her rifle slung over her shoulder.
"You didn't tell them," she said quietly.
"Tell them what?"
"That you've seen the tower before. In your head."
He stiffened. "They wouldn't understand."
"They already think you're crazy. Might as well give them a reason."
He glanced at her. She wasn't mocking him—just stating a fact.
"I don't know why I remember it," he admitted. "But I think… I think it's where this started."
"Where what started?"
He didn't answer.
They reached the outskirts of the campus by dusk. The tower stood at its heart, a monolith of glass and steel choked by ivy. A Visitor drone hovered near its peak, its spider-like limbs twitching as it etched glowing symbols into the walls.
"Look," Mara whispered.
The symbols pulsed, shifting like liquid. Kael stepped closer, his breath catching. The patterns matched the ones in his journal—the ones he'd drawn from dreams.
"They're coordinates," he murmured.
"For what?"
He didn't know.
A sudden screech shattered the silence. From the shadows of the dormitories, the Rot surged.
Not the shuffling, mindless undead of the outer zones—these were organized . A pack of children, no older than ten, their bodies riddled with fungal growths. Their eyes glowed faintly as they charged.
"Move! " Rook barked.
Gunfire erupted. Mara's bullets tore through the swarm, but the children moved unnaturally fast, their spores bursting in clouds of toxic dust. One leapt at Kael, claws raking his arm. He slammed the butt of his rifle into its skull, the impact jarring his teeth.
"They're smart !" Elias shouted. "They're herding us !"
Then the ground split open.
A Fracture—swirling, violet light erupting from the pavement. The air warped, and suddenly the survivors weren't in the city anymore.
They stood in a frozen wasteland. The tower remained, but the sky was black, the air sharp with ice. The children were gone. So were half the group.
"No! " Mara cried.
Kael spun, counting faces. Rook, Mara, Elias, and four others remained. The rest were stranded in another timeline—or dead.
"This isn't possible," Elias breathed.
"It's the Fractures," Kael said. "They're getting worse."
The Visitor drone descended, its symbols flaring. It hovered inches from Kael's face, scanning him. Then it spoke—not in words, but in a vibration that rattled his bones.
A single phrase echoed in his mind:
"Identity confirmed. Welcome home, Subject Zero."
The drone exploded.
Kael staggered, clutching his head as a migraine split his skull. Memories flooded him—fragmented, raw.
A lab. A woman's voice: "We can fix you, Kael."
A machine humming. A scream. His own.
Darkness.
"Kael!" Mara shook him. "What happened?"
He couldn't answer. The truth clawed at his throat.
Subject Zero.
The drone hadn't recognized him.
It had addressed him.