Into the Depths

The metallic hum of malfunctioning lights filled the hallway, casting flickering shadows across the smooth steel walls. The air was cold and stale, thick with the scent of chemicals. Every step we took felt like trespassing, each sound bouncing off the walls and coming back heavier.

Lecroix stayed close to me, always just within reach. His presence was more than comforting—it was grounding. I caught myself glancing at him too often, searching for reassurance, for a reason to believe we'd survive this. And every time, his gaze locked with mine, calm and steady, like a silent promise.

Zeke led us down the narrow passage, his flashlight bobbing ahead. He didn't say much, but I knew what was simmering under the surface. This wasn't just about survival for him—it was personal. Our mother had been part of this nightmare, and now we were living the fallout.

Apollo trailed behind, his gun drawn, every muscle tense.

"This place gives me the creeps," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder. "Feels like something's watching us."

"It probably is," Lecroix said, his voice low.

We kept moving, deeper into the heart of the facility. The unknown waited ahead—but so did answers.

The hallway opened into a massive laboratory. Glass chambers lined the walls, filled with infected figures, frozen mid-transformation. Some twitched beneath the glass, their grotesque features half-human, half-something else.

In the dim glow of emergency lights, Zeke worked his tablet furiously, accessing old files buried deep in the system. His fingers flew over the screen, his jaw tight with concentration.

"I found something," Zeke muttered, pulling up a series of files marked with our mother's initials. "It's all here—everything she was working on before she…" He trailed off, anger flickering in his voice.

"Before they took her," I finished for him, my throat tightening.

Zeke clenched his fists. "She wasn't just working on a cure. They used her—manipulated her research for Phase Two. And they weren't just trying to stop the infection." He turned the screen toward me. "They were enhancing it. And you…" His voice wavered. "We… We were part of the plan."

My breath hitched. "What do you mean?"

"They were studying us—our genetic markers. Mom believed those markers could resist the infection. But they twisted it into something else. Something they thought they could control."

Lecroix's hand found my shoulder, his touch warm despite the cold air. "She fought to protect you. Both of you."

I glanced at Zeke, and for the first time in a long time, I saw not just frustration in his expression—but hurt. He'd lost her too. We both had. But now, we were finally starting to understand the truth behind her sacrifice.

Zeke's gaze darkened as he scrolled through more files. "They weren't just experimenting on us from a distance. They…" He trailed off, struggling to find the words.

"They built this entire project around her—and you," Lecroix said gently, his eyes locked on mine. "She was the key to Phase Two. And now, so are you."

The weight of his words hit me like a blow to the chest. I wasn't just a survivor. I was their creation—their experiment waiting to come to life.

Zeke's knuckles whitened around his tablet. "They killed her trying to make this work." His voice cracked, raw with pain. "She tried to stop them, and they killed her for it."

I placed my hand on Zeke's, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll finish what she started, Zeke. We'll stop this."

His jaw tightened, but he nodded, and for a brief moment, we weren't just running for our lives—we were fighting for her.

Before we could process more, a low growl echoed from the corridor behind us. Heavy, deliberate footsteps followed, growing closer.

"The infected," Apollo whispered. "They've found us."

Lecroix's grip on my arm tightened. "We need to move. Now."

We bolted through the lab, sprinting toward the central control room. The infected tore through the space behind us, snarling and clawing, their grotesque bodies moving with terrifying speed and purpose. These weren't mindless creatures. They were hunting us—and they knew exactly who I was.

We reached the control room, and Apollo slammed the heavy door shut behind us. Zeke's fingers flew across his tablet, locking the door with a sharp metallic click. The snarls outside grew louder, the infected throwing themselves against the door in frustration.

"This place is a tomb," Zeke muttered. "We can't stay here long."

Lecroix moved toward the console, his expression grim. "The answers we need are here."

He pulled up the system, and a video feed flickered to life—our mother's face filling the screen.

She looked exhausted but determined, her gaze sharp despite the dark circles under her eyes. "If you're seeing this," she said quietly, "then things have gone worse than I feared."

Zeke's hand clenched beside me, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. It hurt to see her again—to hear her voice, even through a grainy recording.

"They think they can control this," our mother whispered. "But they can't. Liberty, Zeke… You're stronger than they know. I believe in you."

The screen flickered, and the message cut out. Silence filled the room, heavy and unbearable.

"She knew," I whispered. "She knew what they were doing, and she tried to warn us."

Zeke's breath hitched, but he quickly turned away, burying the emotion that threatened to spill out. Lecroix's hand brushed against mine again, a subtle, grounding touch. I wasn't alone in this. Not anymore.

A deafening crash shook the room, and the infected began slamming against the door with renewed force. Their snarls filled the air, louder and more vicious.

"We can't hold them off," Apollo warned, gripping his weapon tightly.

"There's a maintenance shaft," Zeke said quickly, pointing toward the far wall. "It leads to the lower levels."

Lecroix turned to me, his gaze steady. "We'll make it through this."

I nodded, adrenaline surging through me. "Together."

Lecroix smiled—just a small, fleeting curve of his lips—but it was enough to send warmth through me. "Always."

The infected slammed into the door one last time, and it gave way with a deafening crash. We had no time left.

Zeke pried open the maintenance hatch, and we scrambled inside, dropping into the narrow tunnel just as the infected swarmed the room. Their snarls echoed through the shaft, but we kept moving, racing through the darkness toward whatever awaited us below.

And as Lecroix ran beside me, his hand brushing mine, I knew one thing for certain: No matter what happened next, we wouldn't stop until this was over.