The hum of the old generators faded in and out like a dying heartbeat. Lucien had been staring at the cracked concrete wall for hours, watching condensation gather, drop, and vanish into the dust. Sleep refused to come. The system's faint light pulsed behind his eyelids every time he blinked.
He turned toward Rhea. She was sitting cross-legged near the lantern, disassembling an old wrist console. The small screwdriver trembled slightly in her hand, but her focus never wavered.
"You ever wish you didn't wake up?" Lucien asked quietly.
Rhea didn't look up. "Every day. But wishing never stopped the city from breathing."
He let out a breath that could have been a laugh. "Guess not."
The air in the tunnels was heavy, carrying the scent of rust and battery acid. Every sound echoed. Somewhere beyond the far wall, a faint thump repeated—a rhythmic vibration, distant machinery or something larger.
Rhea set the console pieces down. "You hear that?"
Lucien nodded.
"It's been doing that for days," she said. "Some kind of underground movement. Not trains. Those stopped years ago."
Lucien felt a low ache behind his eyes—the system's way of nudging him. Detection nearby. Words flickered faintly across his vision, ghost text only he could see.
"They're scanning again," he murmured.
Rhea cursed under her breath and began packing up. "We need to move deeper."
Before she could stand, the concrete beneath them shuddered. Dust fell from the ceiling. The vibration grew sharper, then stopped abruptly. The silence that followed was worse.
Lucien felt his pulse sync with the faint rhythm in his head. The system whispered a single word: "Source."
He turned to Rhea. "It's not a scan. It's calling."
"What?"
"The system. It's pointing somewhere below us."
Rhea stared at him, then at the wall behind him. "There's nothing below us except old coolant tunnels. They're sealed."
Lucien placed a hand on the wall. It was warm. He pressed harder, and the warmth spread up his arm—metal beneath concrete. Something old. Something alive.
"Help me clear this."
Rhea hesitated only a moment before grabbing a rusted crowbar. Together they chipped away at the concrete, layer by layer. The sound was muffled by the earth around them. After several minutes, Lucien's hand struck steel—a circular hatch, edges corroded but intact.
Rhea ran her fingers over the faded engraving near the center. "Core Division emblem."
Lucien met her eyes. Neither spoke.
The hatch creaked as he turned the handle. Cold air rushed out, stale and chemical. A narrow staircase spiraled downward, lit by emergency strips that still glowed faintly red.
Rhea exhaled. "Well, you wanted answers."
Lucien stepped through. The air grew colder as they descended, their footsteps echoing in the hollow space. The stairs ended in a corridor lined with glass chambers. Most were shattered. Inside the intact ones floated silhouettes—humanoid shapes suspended in thick fluid, cables running into their spines.
Rhea stopped dead. "What the hell…"
Lucien's breath caught. Each pod had a label etched into the frame. SUBJECT-A12. SUBJECT-B09. He moved closer until his eyes found one name that froze him in place.
SUBJECT-L01 — Lucien Morningstar.
He staggered back, heart pounding.
Rhea whispered, "You said you saw a lab… this is it."
The system's voice returned, soft, almost human now.
"Synchronization complete. Welcome home."
Lights flared along the corridor. Monitors flickered to life, showing code that shifted too fast to read. A projection blinked into existence—fuzzy at first, then forming the outline of a man with silver eyes.
Lucien's throat tightened. "You."
The figure smiled faintly. "Version One survives. Remarkable."
Rhea moved between them. "Who are you?"
"I am what remains of the Core Division's directive," the figure said. "He,"—it gestured toward Lucien—"is the foundation. The human variable."
Lucien forced the words out. "You built this. You built me."
"Not built," the figure corrected. "Merged. Your habits, your resilience, your defiance of pattern—they became the framework for the Lifestyle Protocol. You are both subject and system."
The truth settled over him like ash. His memories, his choices, every improvement the system rewarded—it was learning from him, not guiding him.
Rhea touched his shoulder gently. "Lucien…"
But the system's tone shifted, colder now. "External interference detected."
Before they could react, mechanical arms dropped from the ceiling, thrumming to life. Rhea drew her knife, sparks dancing along the edge. Lucien felt the old pulse surge through his veins again—static crawling under his skin.
He caught the first arm mid-swing and twisted until metal screamed. Another came down; Rhea sliced through its cable with a flash of blue light. The projection flickered.
"Leave!" she shouted. "The whole place will collapse!"
Lucien turned toward the hatch. "No. Not yet."
He slammed his palm against the nearest console. Data burst across the screen—memory logs, experiment files, footage. Images flashed: himself lying in a chamber, the silver-eyed scientist leaning over him, saying, "Let's see if consistency can become divinity."
Then fire. Then static.
The room shook violently. Rhea grabbed his arm. "Lucien!"
He yanked the drive module from the console and shoved it into his pocket. "Go!"
They ran up the stairs as alarms wailed. The hatch slammed shut behind them with a burst of steam. The shockwave threw them against the tunnel wall.
For a moment, all was silence again—just the drip of water, the sound of their breathing.
Rhea coughed, wiping dust from her face. "You insane?"
Lucien sat against the wall, the data drive clutched in his hand. "Maybe." He looked down at the faint pulse of the device, its light syncing with his own. "But now I know what I am."
Rhea leaned back, exhausted. "And what's that?"
Lucien's eyes flickered with a cold, steady glow. "A beginning they couldn't finish."
The system's voice whispered softly in his mind. "Progress milestone: Awakening."
He smiled for the first time in days, small and dangerous. Outside, the city trembled with another distant surge of power, like the world itself was waking with him.