The Red Alien…

Inside the tunnel, it was pitch dark now. Only the sound of their breathing and the faint, echoing creaks of movement filled the space.

Janet's voice came through the dark, steady but low.

"Well… now there's no turning back."

Soon, they reached a fork in the path—two identical tunnels branching off into deeper darkness.

Adam squinted down each path.

"Alright, which way should we go?" he asked.

Kara stepped forward, narrowing her eyes. She activated her vision—first scanning the tunnels with her enhanced sight, letting her eyes adjust to the pitch black. Then, she focused deeper, letting her x-ray vision sweep through the dense layers of wall and piping ahead.

After a few seconds, she pointed left.

"This way," she said confidently.

Adam hesitated. "You sure?"

Kara didn't answer. She was already walking.

"Guess that's a yes," Jake muttered, following her.

Adam lingered for a second longer, glancing down the right path again. He frowned—just briefly—then turned and followed the group. His hand hovered near his radio, hidden in his jacket, but he didn't touch it. Not yet.

He glanced back again, making sure no one was watching.

And then, under his breath—barely audible—he whispered, "Still tracking…"

They followed her in silence, until Adam's flashlight jerked suddenly to the left—illuminating a scurrying blur. A dozen rats darted out of the shadows and disappeared into a pipe with shrill squeaks.

"Ugh! Do they not clean this tunnel or something?" Adam grimaced, taking a step back.

Janet shook her head and muttered, "I suppose they don't really need it."

Jake let out a quiet chuckle. "Well, at least now we know we're not the only ones breaking in."

The deeper they went, the more silent it became—no humming, no machines, just the faint sound of their own breathing and boots against iron.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a small iron door. It was worn, dented, and sealed with a familiar keycard lock just like the hatch above.

Jake walked up, giving it a tap with his knuckles. "Woo," he said with a grin. "Kara, you got this, right?"

Kara stepped forward, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah," she said softly.

She leaned in, took a breath, and exhaled—a chilling burst of freezing breath coated the lock in a layer of glistening frost. The electronics inside fizzled and popped from the sudden thermal shock. Sparks danced out of the card reader.

A few seconds passed.

Click.

The lock gave way.

Inside, it was immediately different — clean, well-lit, and clearly operational. The group exchanged tense glances.

A short staircase led upward, while to the right was a small room and a steel elevator with a glowing panel.

"This has to be it," Jake whispered. "We're officially inside Area 51."

But before anyone could process the moment, they heard it — the faint echo of boots from the stairwell.

"Floor -41?" a voice called out from above, drawing closer.

"Shit," Adam hissed, eyes wide.

"Hide," Kara commanded quickly.

They rushed into the nearest room, easing the heavy door nearly shut behind them. The lights inside were off. Shadows swallowed the space as they huddled behind a stack of old crates.

Everyone stayed silent. Barely breathing.

But then—

CLINK—crash.

A small glass object tumbled from a shelf behind them and shattered on the floor.

The team jumped.

Kara's head snapped toward the sound. Adam stood nearby, hands slightly raised like he had just bumped the shelf in the dark.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't see it."

Janet shot him a glare but said nothing.

Outside, the boots stopped.

"Wait… did you hear that?" one soldier muttered.

"Yeah. Came from in there. Sounded like glass."

"Is anyone supposed to be in that room?" another asked.

"No."

Four sets of boots shifted. Then—approaching footsteps. Slow, cautious. Guns raised.

Inside, Kara's voice dropped to a whisper:

"They're coming."

"What do we do?" Janet mouthed, her hand trembling slightly.

Kara didn't answer.

With a blur of speed and wind, Kara burst from the room. The door slammed open, knocking one soldier off balance. Before any of them could even raise their weapons, Kara was already moving — a flash of motion in the corridor.

Wham! One soldier slammed against the wall, knocked out cold.

Crack! Another hit the floor hard as Kara swept his legs out with lightning precision.

The remaining two raised their rifles, but Kara was faster. She disarmed both in a blink, tossed the weapons aside like toys, then pinned them with two swift, controlled blows to the chest.

Seconds later, the hallway was silent again.

Four unconscious soldiers lay sprawled across the floor.

The rest of the group slowly emerged from the room, blinking in awe.

"Holy…" Adam muttered.

"They're not dead," Kara said quickly, brushing off her sleeves. "Just unconscious."

Janet exhaled, then moved to check one of the downed soldiers. "Let's make the most of this."

Within minutes, the group had taken the soldiers' uniforms and helmets. They didn't fit perfectly — especially on Janet, who had to cinch the belt twice — but it would do. With their faces mostly covered, they looked official enough.

Kara crouched beside the downed soldier holding the metallic case. "Looks like this was going down to Floor -41. I mean that's what I heard them said."

Janet nodded. "We're taking it. It's part of the cover."

Jake grabbed the case — heavier than it looked — and hoisted it up with a grunt.

Kara pulled a cap down low over her face. Her voice dropped to mimic one of the guards. "Ready?"

Janet nodded. "Let's move."

Kara hit the elevator button. The light blinked. The elevator began to rise.

Silence fell over them again, but this time it wasn't fear.

It was anticipation.

Everyone walked into the elevator, pressed floor -41, and soon the elevator closed.

Not long after, the elevator jolted to a stop.

With a soft chime, the doors slid open—and all of them froze.

A vast, high-tech facility stretched out before them, glowing with cold, clinical light. Dozens of scientists bustled between workstations, screens flickered with alien blueprints, soldiers marched in tight formations, and security cameras panned methodically.

In the center of the massive room stood a row of large containment pods. Inside one: pale, gelatinous eggs floating in blue liquid. Another held what looked like a breathing apparatus designed for a creature none of them could recognize.

It was surreal. It was real.

Jake blinked. "It's true…"

"Yeah," Janet whispered, eyes wide. "All of it…"

Before anyone could say more, a man in a lab coat briskly walked toward them. Mid-30s, overly friendly, and clearly used to speaking without filters.

"Hey," he said casually, tapping Adam on the shoulder. "I was expecting Jordan. Did they send you instead?"

Adam stiffened. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

The scientist waved it off, unfazed. "No worries. You've got asset 117, right?"

Jake blinked. "What asset?"

Adam, without missing a beat, gestured toward the crate they'd brought. "The one you're holding."

The scientist nodded as if that settled everything. "Perfect. Right this way. We've been waiting for it."

The scientist led them to a small glass chamber along the wall.

Inside it, a creature crouched in the corner. Small, barely the size of a housecat, but unmistakably alien.

Its skin was a deep, dark red—almost black in places. Rows of jagged teeth lined its narrow jaw. Sharp claws scratched faintly at the glass. It didn't look like it belonged on Earth, yet something about its posture… its eyes… felt intelligent.

It was still just a baby.

"Oh god," Kara whispered. "What did they do?"

The scientist gestured behind him. "Give me the asset."

Jake handed over the cage without a word. The scientist set it down beside the chamber, then opened it. Inside were two vials—one glowing green, the other pulsing faint red. Both radiated danger.

Jake's heart skipped. That green vial… He'd seen it before. That's what they injected Jacob with.

He hesitated. "Sooo… what exactly are those?"

The scientist turned, blinking like the question surprised him. "You don't know?"

He picked up the green vial and held it to the light. "This one's designed to shut down everything. Nerve system, hydration, even visual perception—it paralyzes, shocks, drains water from your cells. Makes your vision go green. And that's the mild one."

He grabbed the red vial next. "This? You don't wanna know."

Before they could ask, he slid the red vial into a circular port next to the chamber. It clicked in place.

He hit a button.

A sharp hiss filled the air as red gas began to vent into the chamber. It swirled like smoke, thick and acrid.

Jake tensed.

"The red vial… it's transforming into gas form," he realized.

Inside the chamber, the baby alien twitched—then screamed.

A piercing, unnatural wail echoed through the room.

Its body convulsed, pressing against the glass.

Kara's eyes widened. That gas… I've seen it before.

It's the same red gas they used in the lab—when the bomb went off. If I had breathed it in…

She looked at the scientist. He was calm. Focused. Like this was just a routine test.

But the creature was still screaming.

And Adam?

He was completely still, watching.

The alien screamed in pain.

Its body convulsed violently as the red gas swirled around it. Then, with a sickening crack, its claws began to grow—elongating into razor-like talons. Sharp spikes burst from its back, slicing through its flesh as it mutated in real time.

It was evolving.

Changing.

Becoming something far more dangerous.

Kara flinched. Her chest tightened as she watched the transformation.

This wasn't just any creature. It was one of them.

An alien—like her.

Its agony echoed through her bones. She could feel it, as if the pain stirred something ancient and half-buried inside her. And suddenly, from the haze of memory, a voice rose up:

"It was red… it had scary teeth, and claws. It told me if I didn't do it, it would take my soul."

The old man's voice.

His final words.

Kara's breath caught.

Her eyes locked on the creature, still thrashing inside the gas-filled chamber. The red skin. The razor-like claws. The monstrous teeth.

It matched the old man's description almost perfectly.

Except—this one was just a baby.

Then something else surfaced in her memory.

Krypton.

She was just a child then—curious, wandering where she wasn't supposed to be. She remembered sneaking down into the lower levels of a restricted facility. A glowing hall. Cold metal. And behind the thick glass of a containment chamber…

A creature. Just like this.

It had looked at her, back then.

And even as a child, something about that moment chilled her to the core.

At first, she thought it was because it looked dangerous…

But thinking back now, she wondered:

What if it wasn't because it looked dangerous?

What if it was because it looked sad?

Forgotten.

Feared.

Even now, years later, she could still remember the haunting feeling it left behind. She hadn't understood what it was at the time—or why it was locked up. But now…

What if that creature back then was the same species?

What if it wasn't evil—just imprisoned?

What if this was the reason the old man had been controlled?

Not for power, or destruction…

But to get its child back.

Still, something about that memory never sat right. Even now, she couldn't shake it.

There was something terrifying about that moment—something unspoken and ancient.

Maybe it was a devil.

Or maybe it wasn't.

She had no idea.

Her eyes shifted to the creature in the glass. It was writhing, growing, its body mutating in pain. And yet—for a heartbeat—its gaze met hers.

There was no hatred.

Only pain.

Whether its mother was evil or not—dangerous or not—it didn't deserve this.

Kara's hand drifted toward the glass, but stopped short.

She wanted to help. Every instinct told her to.

But she couldn't. Not yet.

Jacob was still infected. He needed an antidote. And if the green vial was as dangerous as they claimed…

She had to find out if the cure even existed—and where it was being kept.