The lights flickered.
Just once.
Then everything moved at the same time.
The thin line on the screen jumped again and froze. A sharp sound rang out—short, clipped—not loud, but urgent.
Aerin stepped back fast. "Stay still," she said, louder than before.
The door slid open.
Not slowly.
Fast.
Two guards entered, their boots hitting the floor hard. They didn't look at Shivis's face. Their eyes stayed on his chest, his hands, the wrist band.
"Hold position," one of them said.
Shivis's heart started racing. "I'm not doing anything," he said.
"We know," the other guard replied. "Just don't move."
The warmth in his chest pressed again, stronger this time. Shivis sucked in a breath. His hands trembled slightly at his sides.
"I'm fine," he said, more to himself than them.
The screen on the wall shut off completely.
The room felt heavier.
Aerin's tablet buzzed once. She looked down, then up at Shivis.
"They want to move you," she said quickly. "Right now."
"Move me where?" he asked.
No one answered.
The guards stepped closer. One reached for his arm—not rough, but firm. Cold gloves against his skin.
The moment they touched him, the warmth inside Shivis shifted sharply.
Not pain.
Not anger.
Pressure.
The air seemed to tighten around him. The glass wall darkened further, turning almost mirror-black. For a second, Shivis saw only himself reflected back—eyes wide, jaw tight.
The guard's grip loosened.
"Did you feel that?" one muttered.
"Let go," the other said.
They did.
Shivis stood there, breathing hard. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know," Aerin said quickly. She stepped between him and the guards without thinking. "He didn't do anything."
Behind the glass, movement exploded.
People stood up. Someone pointed. Someone else shook their head.
A voice came through the ceiling speakers. Not calm. Not angry.
"Escort protocol. Now."
The guards hesitated only a second, then nodded.
"Shivis," Aerin said, lowering her voice. "Walk with us. Don't stop."
He nodded.
They moved fast.
Out of the room. Into the corridor. The lights overhead brightened as they passed, turning on ahead of them and shutting off behind, like the building was guiding them.
Shivis's thoughts scrambled.
Where were they taking him?
What had he done?
Why did it feel like everyone suddenly knew something he didn't?
As they reached a junction, the floor beneath them vibrated—stronger than before.
The guards slowed.
One of them whispered, "That wasn't supposed to happen."
Shivis felt it too.
The warmth in his chest didn't calm this time.
It rose.
And somewhere far above, alarms that hadn't sounded yet prepared to.
The floor vibrated again.
Stronger this time.
Shivis stumbled half a step. One of the guards grabbed his shoulder to steady him, grip tightening without meaning to.
"Easy," the guard said.
"I'm not doing anything," Shivis replied, breath short.
"I know," the guard muttered. "That's the problem."
Lights along the corridor flickered on and off in uneven patches. Some stayed bright. Others dimmed, like they were struggling to decide.
Aerin walked close beside Shivis now, her arm almost brushing his. Her face was tight, focused straight ahead.
"Just keep walking," she said. "Don't stop."
They reached another stretch of hallway—longer, wider. Glass panels lined one side, showing rooms beyond. Shivis caught quick glimpses as they passed.
A man strapped to a chair, head hanging.
A woman standing very still, eyes glowing faintly.
A room empty except for scorch marks on the floor.
They didn't slow.
A sharp tone sounded overhead.
"Route change," a voice said. "Seal Section C."
The corridor ahead darkened. Metal panels slid down from the ceiling with heavy thuds, blocking the path.
"Not that way," one guard said.
They turned sharply.
As they did, the warmth in Shivis's chest surged again—sudden, uncomfortable. He gasped, hand flying to his chest.
"I—I feel weird," he said.
Aerin looked at him fast. "Don't focus on it."
Too late.
The lights nearest Shivis burst brighter, then popped, plunging that section into darkness. A wave of cold air rushed through the hall, raising goosebumps along his arms.
The guards swore under their breath.
"Power feedback," one said. "He's not even—"
"Quiet," the other snapped.
They pushed forward, faster now. Their boots hit the floor harder, urgency replacing control.
Shivis's head spun. The hallway felt longer than it should be. Sounds echoed strangely, stretching out, then snapping back.
Somewhere behind them, something slammed shut.
Heavy.
Final.
Aerin glanced back once, then forward again. "We're almost there," she said.
"Where?" Shivis asked.
She didn't answer.
The warmth inside him rose higher, pressing outward like it wanted space. Shivis clenched his teeth, trying to breathe through it.
"I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "I don't know why this keeps happening."
No one replied.
Ahead, a large door came into view—thicker than the others, marked with deep grooves and faded warning symbols Shivis didn't recognize.
The guards slowed.
One of them whispered, "This is supposed to be empty."
The door began to open on its own.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just enough to let darkness spill out onto the floor.
The warmth inside Shivis reacted hard.
His knees buckled.
And this time, the building reacted with him.
Shivis's knees buckled.
Strong hands caught him before he hit the floor, hauling him upright again. The warmth in his chest surged sharply, stealing his breath.
"Move," one of the guards said. Not angry. Urgent.
"I—I can't—" Shivis gasped.
"You can," Aerin said, gripping his arm tightly. "Just take one step."
The door ahead creaked wider.
Cold air poured out from the darkness beyond it, heavier than anything he'd felt before. It smelled old. Not dirty—just untouched, like a room that hadn't been opened in a long time.
The lights behind them went out.
Not flickering this time.
Off.
The corridor filled with emergency red, washing everything in harsh shadows. The guards didn't wait for orders. One pushed Shivis forward.
"Go," he said.
Shivis stumbled across the threshold.
The moment his foot touched the floor inside, the warmth inside him spiked. His vision blurred white at the edges. His ears rang.
Behind him, someone shouted.
"Seal it—now!"
Aerin's hand slipped from his arm as the door slammed shut with a heavy, final sound that shook the floor.
Shivis fell forward, catching himself on his hands. The surface beneath him was smooth and cold, vibrating faintly like a deep engine running far away.
He sucked in air, chest burning.
The room around him was dark—not empty dark, but layered. Shapes stood just beyond the reach of the emergency glow leaking through the seams of the door. Tall outlines. Broken lines. Things that didn't look like machines.
The warmth inside him didn't calm.
It spread.
Slow. Wide.
Not attacking.
Recognizing.
A low sound echoed through the space.
Not loud.
Not close.
But deep enough to feel in his bones.
Shivis pushed himself up onto his knees, heart pounding.
"H-hello?" he said, voice shaking.
The sound came again.
Closer.
And somewhere beyond the sealed door, alarms finally began to scream.
The sound came again.
Closer.
Shivis stayed on his knees, palms pressed to the cold floor. The vibration beneath his hands grew stronger, steady and slow, like something breathing far below the surface.
He pushed himself up, legs shaking.
"Okay," he whispered, not sure who he was talking to. "Okay."
The darkness ahead shifted.
Not fast. Not sudden.
A shape separated itself from the rest of the shadows. Tall, uneven, like it was made of pieces that didn't quite belong together. The emergency glow from the door barely touched it, bending strangely around its edges.
Shivis took a step back.
The shape stopped.
That made his chest tighten more than if it had kept coming.
The warmth inside him surged again, spreading up his spine, into his shoulders. His breathing hitched, then steadied without him meaning it to.
The shape tilted.
A sound followed—not a voice, not a growl. More like stone sliding against stone. Curious. Testing.
"I don't want trouble," Shivis said quickly. "I didn't come here on purpose."
The words echoed strangely, as if the room itself was listening.
The floor beneath him pulsed once.
Lights flickered on along the walls—dim, old, not part of the main facility. Symbols appeared briefly, etched deep into the metal, then faded again.
The shape reacted.
It stepped back.
Shivis froze.
"You… understand?" he asked.
The warmth inside him pressed hard, almost painful now. Not fear.
Urgency.
Behind him, the sealed door shook once.
A heavy impact from the other side.
Voices shouted—muffled, distant.
The shape turned toward the door, then back to Shivis.
It moved again.
This time, closer.
Shivis's heart raced. He clenched his fists, not knowing what else to do. The air around him thickened, pressing against his skin.
The shape stopped just a few steps away.
Up close, Shivis could see it wasn't solid. Parts of it shifted slowly, like smoke trapped inside armor made of shadow and stone.
It lowered itself.
Not bowing.
Not kneeling.
Meeting his height.
The warmth inside Shivis flared—
And for the first time, something answered it directly.
Not with words.
With a feeling.
You are not where you should be.
Shivis's breath caught.
"I know," he whispered.
The feeling lingered.
Then changed.
But you fit.
Behind him, the door slammed again—harder this time. Cracks spread across its surface, light spilling through.
The shape turned back toward the door.
Shivis followed its gaze.
Whatever was coming from the other side—
—was not meant to be here either.
The door behind Shivis cracked wider.
Light burst through the fractures, harsh and white, cutting into the dark space like a blade. Metal screamed as something heavy struck it again from the other side.
"Open it!" a voice shouted, distant and distorted.
"Fall back—fall back!"
Shivis flinched.
The shape beside him reacted instantly. It shifted, placing itself between Shivis and the door without touching him. Its form stretched slightly, edges sharpening, shadow thickening.
The warmth inside Shivis surged in response.
Not fear.
Pressure.
The floor beneath his feet trembled.
The shape turned its head toward him—slow, deliberate. The same feeling pressed into his chest again, stronger than before.
Come.
Shivis didn't argue.
He didn't think.
He took a step forward.
The moment his foot crossed an invisible line, the room changed.
The air grew heavier, warmer, like stepping into deep water. The faint symbols along the walls flared briefly, then sank back into the metal as if hiding.
Behind him, the door shattered.
Metal tore inward with a thunderous crash. Pieces flew across the floor, skidding and sparking. Armed figures flooded the opening, weapons raised, lights flaring.
"Target located!" someone shouted.
The shape moved.
Not fast.
Certain.
It struck the floor once.
The impact rippled outward. Lights burst. Sound warped. The soldiers staggered, some dropping to one knee, others thrown back against the walls.
Shivis covered his head, instinct screaming.
"Stop!" he shouted. "Please—just stop!"
The shape hesitated.
Just for a moment.
That was enough.
The warmth inside Shivis flared violently, spreading through his chest, his arms, his legs. He cried out as the pressure pushed outward, not controlled, not aimed.
The room bent.
Not broke—bent.
Shivis fell forward again, hands slamming into the floor. His vision swam. His ears rang painfully.
When the pressure eased, the noise was gone.
The soldiers lay scattered near the ruined door. Not dead. Not moving either.
The lights flickered weakly, then dimmed.
The shape stood still, facing Shivis.
It lowered its head slightly.
Not in respect.
In acknowledgment.
The warmth inside Shivis didn't calm.
It settled.
Like something had locked into place.
Shivis pushed himself up onto his knees, breathing hard, heart pounding.
"I didn't mean to do that," he whispered.
The shape remained silent.
But the feeling came again—clearer this time.
The first step is never clean.
Shivis swallowed.
Somewhere far above, alarms screamed without control.
And deep inside the sealed space, something ancient and patient began to wake.