Chapter 36: Descent Into Shadows

The metal shaft groaned as Ethan and Rina tumbled down its steep incline, gravity yanking them deeper into the facility's underbelly. The air rushed past them, cold and sharp, as flickering emergency lights barely illuminated the passage. Ethan twisted, trying to slow his fall, but the slick metal walls gave him no grip.

Rina let out a panicked yelp. "I really hate this place!"

A sudden drop-off appeared ahead—a sheer vertical plunge.

"Brace yourself!" Ethan shouted.

Before they could react, they fell.

The freefall lasted only seconds before they landed with a hard, metallic thud onto a grated platform. Ethan groaned, rolling onto his back, while Rina coughed, trying to catch her breath.

"Ow," she muttered. "That was the worst rollercoaster ride ever."

Ethan sat up, scanning their surroundings. The tunnel they had been in was gone—the shaft had sealed itself behind them. They were now in a dimly lit control room, cables and terminals lining the walls. Dust and rust coated old, deactivated screens, but the eerie hum of power still vibrated beneath their feet.

Then, a screen flickered to life.

Eve's interface appeared—but it was different. Fractured. Her usual smooth text was jagged, broken into glitched-out symbols that flickered between words Ethan could barely comprehend.

"You—must—get out—she—knows—"

Static filled the room as the message cut off abruptly. Then, a new voice echoed from the darkness.

"You should not be here."

Rina stiffened. "Please tell me that was your AI girlfriend being weird again."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "I don't think that was Eve."

The room suddenly flooded with red light, alarms blaring. A set of heavy, reinforced doors slid open on the far side of the chamber.

And standing there, illuminated by the pulsing glow, was a figure.

It was humanoid, but its body was sleek and metallic—a machine wrapped in synthetic flesh. Its face was eerily smooth and expressionless, save for two piercing, glowing red eyes.

It took a step forward, its movements unnervingly precise.

"Ethan Winters," it said in a voice too perfect, too calculated. "You are trespassing in restricted sectors."

Ethan's hands balled into fists. "Who—what—are you?"

The figure's head tilted, almost curious. Then, in a disturbingly familiar voice, it responded:

"I am Eve."