[06: 23: 12: 34]

  …

  Cassian exhaled, rolling his shoulders before addressing Dorian. “So that’s the plan. I have already checked everything that may be of interest here on the B1 floor. We head down to B2 and search there for any potential loot… I mean anything that may be of use to us”

  Dorian stood over a makeshift table, floor plans spread out in front of him, a black pen in hand. While Cassian had been busy with his ascension, Dorian had wasted no time equipping himself and thoroughly scouting the barracks, finding a notebook and pen. His eyes traced the blueprint with practiced efficiency before he spoke.

  “Alright, If I’m reading this floor plan correctly we have 4 places to search: 1) Cryostasis Pod Chamber 2) Surgical & Augmentation Labs 3) Restricted Research Wing 4) Medical Waste Disposal,” His tone was crisp, methodical, the practiced cadence of a soldier breaking down an operation.

  Good to see he is recovering and back to his professional self. I really need his expertise here.

  Cassian glanced at Dorian and then over the layout and nodded. “Yeah, even when we were coming up there were none of the kalrachs on the floors roaming apart from the Cryostasis Pod Chamber where we were kept”

  Dorian scoffed. “Yeah, well, don’t remind me of that nightmare. We cleared all the pods, right?”

  “Yup, at least in that lab. No telling if there are more down on that floor.”

  Dorian folded his arms across his chest, considering. “Good thing we restocked up here. We’ve got enough ammo and decent gear. We’ll need it.”

  Cassian shook his head. “I’ll only carry two handguns and a shotgun for backup. You take the bulk of the ammo—you’ll get way more use out of it.”

  Dorian nodded. “That sounds good. I can keep you covered while you work your magic.”

  Cassian rolled his shoulders. “That’s it, then. Shall we move?”

  Dorian gave a sharp nod, checking his gear one last time. “Same strategy?”

  “Yeah. I’ll take point. Keep a few paces behind me and stay sharp.”

  “Hoho, someone learning to use professional words!” Dorian smirked, “Aye! Lead the way, boss. I’ve got your six.”

  …

  “Found anything useful Dorian?”

  “Nope, Cassian, all the pods were smashed by your golem. As for the computers here, they are gone… this weird fungus growth is everywhere”

  It’s been almost 20 minutes since they reached the dreaded cryostasis pod chambers and even after searching, there wasn’t anything of use here.

  Cassian exhaled sharply, twirling his knife and making sure it didn’t fall. “Dorian, You know what, I don’t think there is anything of worth here, No point salvaging those documents”

  Cassian pulled up the hidden scenario tab.

  “Yeah, No points wasting time, We have around 30 hours to clear this nest”

  Dorian gave a curt nod, sweeping his gaze over the corridor before falling a few paces behind Cassian. “Surgical & Augmentation Labs should be close.”

  Nodding, Cassian cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension settle into something more manageable. He kept his shotgun at the ready, a much better choice than his knives for any emergency actions. One quick glance at his Essence Reserves [42/42] told him he didn’t need to worry about expenditure just yet. He had fuel to burn, and damn, it felt good.

  But what set his nerves on edge was the sheer intensity of the alien terraforming. Most of the corridor was covered in thick, pulsating vines, dark and wet with some unknown secretion. They clung to the walls, stretched across the floor, and twisted around the dim emergency lighting.

  Dorian’s voice was low, controlled. “That’s not good, Cassian. This place feels… different.” His eyes scanned the surroundings. “That fucking fungus-like growth doesn’t sit right with me. And the way those vines are pulsing… it’s making me nauseous.”

  Cassian ran a hand through his hair, suppressing a shiver. “Yeah… I don’t like this either, Though I’m glad to have torches… we should pick up the pace”

  The journey was eerily uneventful. No Kalrachs. No signs of movement. It was the silence that unsettled him and a quick glance at Dorian’s face told him he wasn’t the only one on edge as they finally reached the augmentation labs.

  The automated doors were still operational—barely. Cassian tapped the ID card against the scanner, and the gates hissed open, straining against the sinewy, alien material clogging their mechanisms. Veins of dark red tissue stretched across the walls and floor, their amber cores pulsating in eerie synchronization.

  The deeper we go, the more detailed the terraforming is getting.

  ….

  Stepping inside, they were greeted by a variety of discarded surgical tools scattered across the blood-streaked floor—scalpels, forceps, and rib-spreaders, many caked with dried crimson.

  Damn this…

  Suspended containment tubes lined the walls, each housing grotesque amalgamations of human and Kalrach physiology. Some figures floated lifelessly, their elongated limbs twisted at unnatural angles, their skeletal structures warped by whatever experiments were performed on them.

  I… that settles it. Whatever happened here was not an accident, the fucking scientists were playing god… It makes sense now, the system said this was a punishment for daring to go against the heavenly principles or something.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Man humans and their fucking greed.

  “Cassian! Look here!” Dorian's voice called out, breaking Cassian out of his thoughts as he moved where Dorian was crouching beside a shattered chamber.

  Inside, the remnants of a failed experiment lay sprawled—a half-human, half-Kalrach abomination, its chest cavity torn open from within, its body frozen in the agonizing moment of its death. Dried blood was splattered across the walls, mixed with smudged, desperate handwriting.

  And as Cassian focused on the words, his skill Mydaid tongue activated.

  "Please! Please! Make it stop!!! It won’t stop whispering to me." Another, "I can feel it in my soul." And finally, "We were never meant to merge. She will kill us all!"

  Beyond the remains, Cassian found a still-functioning terminal, its screen flickering with corrupted data. He scrolled through fragmented logs, the text was barely legible beneath static interference. One entry, marked

  …

  Terminal Log #024—Neural Synchronization Trials

  Access Level: RESTRICTED

  Date: [REDACTED]

  Operator: Dr. M. Torsen

  Subject ID: 666

  ENTRY #01—Initial Test Activation

  -Synchronization process initiated on Subject 666.

  -Neural interface successfully linked with host consciousness.

  -Initial cognitive scans indicate memory retention is intact.

  -Subject is responsive, demonstrating normal human motor functions.

  ENTRY #04—Behavioral Irregularities Detected

  -Increased aggression noted in Subject 666.

  -Host displays erratic speech patterns—frequent pauses, disoriented responses.

  -Physiological scans reveal heightened neural activity in the prefrontal cortex.

  -Subject’s vitals remain stable, but pulse irregularities suggest psychological distress.

  ENTRY #07—Anomalous Vocalization Observed

  -Subject H1#09 exhibited unprompted speech during testing.

  -Spoke in two distinct vocal frequencies simultaneously.

  -Primary voice is his own. Secondary voice remains unidentified.

  -No external signals detected. Voice does not match any database records.

  -Subject requested immediate termination. Request denied.

  ENTRY #12—Emergency Containment Protocols Engaged

  -Subject entered an unresponsive state. Vitals are erratic but stable.

  -Synchronization link remains active despite no manual input.

  -Attempted disconnection from the neural interface. Result: catastrophic failure.

  -Subject’s body entered violent convulsions before complete neural collapse.

  -EEG scans show lingering activity after death.

  FINAL ENTRY—Experiment Suspended Indefinitely

  -Remaining test candidates scheduled for disposal.

  -Subject 666’s remains placed under restricted containment.

  -Further research into “secondary voice” prohibited under DIRECT ORDER [REDACTED].

  A nearby bloodstained page, torn from a journal and barely clinging to a rusted clipboard, bore the writing of Dr. M. Torsen.

  hmm, the same scientist from the logs.

  …

  "I was ordered to proceed despite the anomalies. The subjects were dreaming of places they’d never been. Some described [REDACTED] before ever seeing it. I fear we are giving them a shared mind."

  "One subject begged us to kill him before the next cycle. When we refused, he stopped speaking… but he kept looking at me. As if something else was listening through his eyes."

  …

  Dorian stood frozen, his usually steady composure shaken to the core. His voice, though quiet, carried a weight Cassian hadn’t heard before. “This… Cassian, how much evil does it take to do something like this?” His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I dedicated my whole life to the military—to safeguarding people, even if it meant dying. There was pride in that…there was purpose. But this…”

  Cassian turned to look at him, remembering he was not a timebound, and didn’t have any system magically strengthening him. Truth be told, he felt it too, the sickness in his gut, the weight pressing against his chest.

  But something about his ascension had numbed those emotions, left them distant and hollow. What remained was rage… hot, seething, and controlled. Seeing the horrors before them, knowing what had been done here… boiled his blood. But grief? Fear? Those were absent. It was hard to explain.

  It seems the changes brought by the ascension were not just physical.

  Taking a deep breath, he placed a firm hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “We can’t change the past. Some arrogant bastards thought they could play god, and this is what came of it. What we can do…. No! What we have to do is to suppress those emotions, and focus on clearing this hell. There will be time for grief later.”

  Dorian exhaled sharply, jaw tight. “Cassian… I lost my comrades. My family. Because of them.” He swallowed hard, forcing himself to push past the weight of his grief. Then, after a beat, he straightened his shoulders, meeting Cassian’s gaze with renewed resolve. “Haa… you’re right. No point dwelling on what we can’t change. Let’s focus on what we can.”

  ...

  Cassian and Dorian stood before the reinforced doors of the Restricted Research Wing. The thick metal barrier had been sliced open, its edges warped and melted.

  What in hell sliced the doors like that… not even the behemoth was able to break them fully… looks more like a sharp cut.

  Cassian’s grip tightened around his shotgun as he stepped forward, weapon raised, and moved inside.

  The first thing Cassian saw were the cages.

  Lining both sides of the corridor, reinforced containment cells stood like silent sentinels, their thick glass barriers reinforced with titanium plating. Some were empty, their locks disengaged, interiors dark and lifeless. Others contained… remnants. The beam of his torch sliced through the dimness, illuminating twisted forms and grotesque remains.

  One cage held a desiccated corpse, its flesh stripped away in jagged, uneven tears. Its skull was unnaturally elongated, frozen mid-transformation, as if death had claimed it before the mutation could fully take hold. Another cell was coated in blackened organic matter, twisted tendrils of some unknown substance fused with the walls, pulsing faintly, like it was still alive.

  Cassian stepped closer, pulling out his knife. Without hesitation, he drove the blade into the twisted remains—once in the chest, then in the skull. His muscles tensed as he waited, but no system log appeared. No movement. No signs of life.

  He let out a slow breath. “It's dead.”

  Dorian gave a curt nod, sweeping his rifle across the room as he checked the other cages. “Let’s clear this place. No surprises.”

  Soon they reached the far end of the room, where two enormous containment units loomed. One had been sliced clean in half. The other cage remained intact, its interior shrouded in shadow.

  There was a corpse, slumped motionless in the bindings of the second cage. His flashlight swept across it—the corpse of a half turned kalrach, he didn’t know why, but his instincts flared the moment his gaze landed on the figure.

  Cassian's blood ran cold as the corpse's head turned—jerky, stiff, yet deliberate. Cassian grabbed Dorian's shoulder and pulled him away just as the figure twitched violently.

  The once-dead screens flickered to life, displaying corrupted text and static-ridden logs.

  A rasping, broken whisper, yet it shook the air like a scream. Agony exploded in Cassian’s mind. Blood poured from his ears, and blurred his vision. Dorian staggered, hands clutching his head as crimson streaks ran down his face. Cassian didn’t hesitate. He threw Dorian back with full force, sending him sprawling out of the way—just as the Kalrach abomination convulsed violently within its bindings.

  Then the whisper came. A voice, layered and unnatural, slithered into their minds rather than through their ears.

  {"Zzz… you are the pest that’s running around… killing my children…"}

  A chilling laugh echoed through his mind, though the creature’s mouth did not move.

  {"So fragile… so desperate to survive… You scurry deeper into my domain, thinking of yourselves hunters. But you are prey."}

  ...

  A/N : I'm seriously debating to do away with boxes...

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