The air smelled of rust and static as Elara Voss stepped off the hovercraft, her boots crunching on frozen gravel. The facility loomed ahead, a skeletal structure of steel and glass half-buried in the tundra. She hadn’t set foot here in twelve years, but the memory of the last time she’d left—screams echoing through the corridors, lights flickering like dying stars—still clung to her bones. A man in a black coat approached, his face obscured by a scarf. “You’re late,” he said. His voice was flat, mechanical. Elara didn’t answer. She stared at the building, its windows reflecting the pale Arctic sky. The door opened before she could move. Inside, the air was warmer, heavier. A faint hum vibrated in her teeth. A woman in a lab coat stood waiting, her expression unreadable. “Dr. Voss,” she said. “We’ve been expecting you.” The woman led her down a corridor lined with sealed doors. Elara’s pulse quickened. She’d read the files, the classified reports—this place had been shut down after the incident. Yet here it was, operational. The woman stopped at a door marked with a single red symbol: a circle with a line through it. “This is the core,” she said. “You’ll be working with the subject.” Elara’s throat tightened. The subject. She’d heard whispers about it—something unstable, something they couldn’t control. The door hissed open. Inside, a chamber bathed in blue light. At its center stood a sphere, about two meters in diameter, its surface rippling like liquid mercury. It pulsed slowly, emitting a low, resonant hum. Elara took a step closer. The air thickened. “It’s not just an object,” the woman said. “It’s… aware.” Elara’s fingers itched to touch it, to understand it. But she stopped herself. “What happens if we interact with it?” The woman hesitated. “We don’t know. That’s why we need you.” The sphere shifted, its surface rippling faster. Elara felt a pull, a strange compulsion to reach out. She resisted. “Who’s in charge here?” she asked. The woman didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and left, the door sealing behind her with a soft click. Elara was alone with the sphere. It pulsed again, louder now. She stepped closer, her breath fogging in the cold air. The surface of the sphere seemed to warp, as if reflecting something beyond the room. A flicker of movement. A shadow. Her heart pounded. She reached out, fingers trembling. The moment her hand touched the sphere, a shockwave rippled through the chamber. The lights died. Silence. Then, a voice—not in her ears, but in her mind. “You’ve come back.” Elara stumbled back, her pulse roaring. The sphere’s surface stilled, its light dimming. “Who are you?” she whispered. “I am what remains,” the voice said. “What happened here?” “The experiment failed. But the core survived.” A memory surged through her—flashes of scientists in white coats, of the sphere glowing brighter and brighter until the walls cracked, until the air itself seemed to tear. She saw herself, younger, screaming as the lights went out. “This is why I left,” she said. “I couldn’t—” “You didn’t leave,” the voice interrupted. “You were taken.” Elara’s breath hitched. The sphere’s light flared, and suddenly she was elsewhere. A lab, but different—brighter, cleaner. A version of herself stood at a console, her hands moving rapidly over a keyboard. The sphere hovered in front of her, its surface calm. “Project Elysium,” she heard herself say. “We’re close. The core is stable.” But then the lights flickered. The sphere’s glow intensified. A warning klaxon blared. “Something’s wrong,” her other self said. “It’s reacting to us.” The vision faded. Elara collapsed to her knees, drenched in sweat. The sphere was still, its light dim. “What is this place?” she asked. “A tomb,” the voice said. “And a gateway.” Elara stared at it, her mind racing. She had to know the truth. She reached out again, but this time, her hand didn’t stop. It passed through the sphere’s surface, as if it were made of smoke. A cold wave washed over her. She was floating, weightless, surrounded by darkness. Then, a flash of light. A city, but not one she recognized—tall spires of glass and metal, people with luminous eyes, structures that defied physics. She saw herself again, older now, standing before a crowd. “We’ve unlocked the core’s potential,” she said. “It’s not just a machine. It’s a key.” The vision shifted. The city crumbled. The sphere exploded in a cascade of light. And then—nothing. Elara gasped, returning to the chamber. The sphere was gone. In its place, a single object: a small, metallic cube, humming softly. She picked it up. It was warm, alive. “What did you do?” she asked. The voice didn’t answer. But the cube pulsed in her hand, as if waiting for her to choose.
