Into the Abyss

The night air was thick with tension as Aaron, Lena, and Fletcher stood over the map spread across the table. Blackridge wasn't just another facility—it was a fortress, a place built to ensure that its secrets never saw the light of day. The deeper they studied it, the more it became clear: this was going to be the most dangerous thing any of them had ever done.

Aaron's fingers traced the path Fletcher had pointed out. "So this tunnel… you're sure it still exists? If we're wrong, we'll be walking into a sealed deathtrap."

Fletcher nodded. "I worked with them long enough to know how they think. They wouldn't destroy an access point they might need in an emergency. It should still be there."

Lena exhaled sharply, arms crossed. "And what's waiting for us inside? Guards? Security drones? Automated turrets?"

Fletcher's expression darkened. "All of the above. Blackridge isn't just a storage site—it's where they conduct their worst experiments. Memory wipes. Psychological conditioning. Some of the people who go in there don't come out the same… if they come out at all."

Aaron exchanged a glance with Lena. "We need to be prepared for anything. Weapons, supplies, an exit strategy. We get what we came for, then we disappear."

Fletcher smirked. "Easier said than done. But I like your optimism."

The following night, the trio moved through the shadows, following the path Fletcher had mapped out. The old industrial sector of the city was abandoned—left to rot after corporations had drained it dry. Rusted shipping containers and forgotten machinery stood like tombstones to a lost era.

Lena adjusted the straps on her tactical bag. "We're sure no one's watching us?"

Aaron scanned the darkened alleys. "No patrols. No cameras. If we're lucky, they think this place is too dead to bother monitoring."

"If we're lucky," Fletcher repeated with a humorless chuckle.

They reached a rusted maintenance hatch behind a collapsed warehouse. Fletcher knelt, brushing away debris before prying it open with a crowbar. A gust of stale air rushed up from below.

"Welcome to the underbelly of the city," Fletcher muttered, dropping inside first. Aaron and Lena followed, one after the other, vanishing into the dark.

The tunnels beneath the city were a maze of forgotten passages, built for infrastructure long since abandoned. The air was damp, the walls slick with condensation, and every step echoed down the narrow corridors.

Fletcher led the way, guiding them with a flashlight. "Keep your voices low. Sound carries in places like this."

After twenty minutes of silent movement, they reached a rusted service door covered in warning signs. Fletcher pressed his ear against it, listening. Then, with a nod, he pulled out a small electronic device, connected it to the control panel, and began overriding the lock.

Lena exhaled sharply. "You're really good at this."

"I used to have a different employer," Fletcher murmured. "Now I just use my skills for the right reasons."

With a soft click, the door unlocked. Aaron pushed it open slightly, peering through the crack. Beyond was a dimly lit hallway, sterile and metallic—Blackridge had begun.

"This is it," Aaron whispered. "No turning back now."

They stepped inside, sealing their fate.

The moment they entered, the air changed. It was colder, sterile, carrying the faint hum of hidden machinery. The walls were lined with sleek metal panels, and dim white lighting flickered overhead. There were no immediate guards, but security cameras hung from the ceilings, their red lights blinking.

Fletcher motioned for them to stay low as he pulled a small device from his coat, aiming it at the cameras. "Signal jammer. We've got five minutes before the system resets. Move."

Aaron and Lena followed him down the corridor, staying close to the walls. They passed several locked doors, each marked with a series of numbers and cryptic labels. One read Subject Reconditioning. Another read Cognitive Restructuring Lab.

Lena's fingers twitched toward her gun. "This place is worse than I imagined."

Aaron agreed. "Let's focus on finding the server room. The sooner we're out of here, the better."

Fletcher nodded. "It's down in the lower levels. But we'll have to take the maintenance elevator. Stairwells are too exposed."

They reached an intersection, and Fletcher held up a hand, signaling for them to stop. From around the corner, the sound of footsteps echoed.

Two guards. Armed.

Aaron tensed, watching as the men strolled toward them. Their movements were casual, but their hands rested on their holsters. This was routine for them—until it wasn't.

As soon as they passed, Aaron moved. Silent and fast, he grabbed the first guard in a chokehold, dragging him into the shadows. Fletcher took care of the second, knocking him out with a precise strike to the back of the head.

Lena exhaled. "That was close."

Aaron searched the guard's pockets and found an access card. "This might help."

Fletcher took it and swiped it on the nearby panel. The elevator doors slid open, revealing a steel-lined interior. "Welcome to the real Blackridge."

They stepped inside, the doors shutting behind them. The descent began, slow and ominous. Every second felt heavier, pressing down on them as they went deeper underground.

The lights flickered as the elevator stopped. The doors slid open to reveal an expansive laboratory, rows of glass containment units lining the walls. Inside them were people—some unconscious, others awake but staring blankly as if their minds had been wiped clean.

Lena gasped. "What the hell is this place?"

Fletcher's jaw tightened. "This… is what they do."

Aaron stepped forward, scanning the room. At the far end, a reinforced door stood between them and their goal—the main server room.

A voice crackled over the intercom. "Unauthorized access detected. Security lockdown initiated."

The alarm blared.

Aaron turned to Fletcher. "Looks like we're out of time."

Fletcher gritted his teeth. "Then we fight our way through."

Suddenly, a hidden panel slid open at the far end of the lab, revealing three heavily armed guards clad in tactical armor. They raised their weapons, lasers locking onto their targets.

Aaron dove for cover as bullets sprayed through the air. Fletcher pulled out a smoke grenade, tossing it toward the guards. Thick plumes filled the room, masking their movements.

"Move!" Fletcher shouted.

Aaron grabbed Lena's arm, leading her toward the reinforced door. The security panel flashed red—locked.

Lena pulled out a stolen keycard and swiped it. The panel blinked green, and the door hissed open just as the smoke started to clear.

"Inside! Now!" Aaron ordered.

They rushed through, slamming the door shut behind them. The server room stretched before them, a massive data hub filled with rows of machines humming with hidden secrets.

"Find the Hollow Man's files!" Fletcher barked.

Aaron's fingers flew across the terminal. "We don't have much time!"

Outside, the sound of boots pounding against the floor drew closer.

The real fight had only just begun.