As soon as the opening grew large enough, the view of the outside world finally revealed itself. Before me stretched a wide concrete courtyard, marked by cracks and dark oil stains — scars from years of neglect and constant use.
Around it, other industrial warehouses with their corroded facades and dusty windows stood like sleeping giants. Watchtowers, with rusted floodlights and rotating cameras, silently kept guard over the place.
Further ahead, almost like a wall marking the end of that world, tall fences topped with rows of barbed wire blocked any attempt to escape or invade.
The cold, dry wind cut through the open space, carrying with it the bittersweet smell of rusted metal, burnt oil, and a faint hint of soot, as if the air there was permanently saturated with memories of worn-out machines and engines that never stopped.
Naturally, the outside of the facility had been designed to look no more than an ordinary military base, with simple, unassuming buildings — concrete warehouses and a few rusted communication towers. Everything there looked old enough not to attract curious eyes, but functional enough not to raise suspicion.
However, the real structure — the truly high-tech part where everything actually happened — was hidden several meters underground, buried in a subterranean complex protected by layers of security and isolation. That's where the real secrets were kept, far from the world's eyes.
Outside, a small crowd waited in tense silence. Men and women of different ages, even some children, had gathered there, all dressed in varying styles — some in casual clothes, others in corporate attire that seemed out of place in the environment.
Some kept their hands buried in their pockets, as if trying to hide their nervousness, while others crossed their arms defensively, shoulders tight. Glances met quickly and restlessly, as if each person was looking for answers in the faces around them, but no one dared start a conversation.
It was obvious that none of them knew exactly what to expect. Some exchanged nervous whispers, as if afraid that speaking louder might attract an invisible danger.
Most, however, simply stared at the opening ahead with a mix of curiosity and apprehension — tense looks and expressions caught somewhere between expectation and fear. Scattered around the courtyard, people clustered in small groups, restless, as if something was about to happen any second.
Further away, beyond the imposing metal gates that marked the perimeter, a second crowd became visible — reporters, cameras raised and microphones extended, eager to catch any fragment of information, like predators sniffing the scent of blood in the air.
At the front line, forming a silent and imposing barrier between the visitors and the warehouse interior, stood four distinct figures. Each carried their own presence, but it was Emily who took the first step forward.
Her movement was precise, almost rehearsed, as if even the way she walked was part of an invisible protocol. Her posture was impeccable: firm shoulders, straight back, eyes hard and analytical — like someone used to dissecting situations with surgical coldness.
She kept her arms behind her, hands clasped at the small of her back, a stance that conveyed both discipline and restrained authority. There was something military in her gestures, as if her mere presence was a warning: she didn't need many words to make clear who was in control.
Next to her, Laura held a digital clipboard against her chest, fingers gliding swiftly across the screen as her eyes scanned names, carefully analyzing the list.
As the researcher in charge of screening, her main concern was to ensure everyone present was properly registered and that all security protocols were followed to the letter.
Victor and Rupert, the two guards, stood motionless like statues, arms crossed over their broad chests, but their eyes... their eyes never stopped moving for a second.
They watched with almost predatory attention every expression, every tiny movement of the visitors. There was a stiffness in their bodies, a visible tension in their shoulders and clenched jaws, as if ready to react the moment something — anything — went out of the ordinary.
For a moment, the entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath. The air grew heavy, as if the very atmosphere was waiting for the next move. Emily then took a slight step forward, her eyes sweeping over the crowd with the calculated coldness of someone used to commanding in critical situations.
When she spoke, her voice was firm, carrying not only the weight of authority but also a gravity that sent shivers down the spine: "Welcome. From this moment on, all of you are subject to the internal protocols of this facility. Follow our instructions and..."
She paused briefly, as if wanting every word to sink into everyone's mind. Then she cast a sharp look that cut through the crowd like an invisible blade: "... just don't stray from the group"
Upon hearing her words, the people in the crowd exchanged glances loaded with meaning. Among the faces, it was possible to detect a mix of expressions: some showed barely contained curiosity, others displayed a nearly nervous anticipation... but the dominant feeling — the one hanging like a suffocating shadow over everyone — was fear.
One visitor, with a visibly curious expression but eyes betraying a hint of apprehension, raised his hand hesitantly. The smile that appeared on his face was forced, almost shaky, as if trying to laugh away the discomfort he felt.
"Just out of curiosity... are you really sure this is totally safe... right?" he asked, voice wavering between trying to sound casual and barely disguised fear.
Laura lifted her eyes from the clipboard for a brief moment, still focused on her task, but it was Emily who stepped forward with the answer. She tilted her head slightly to the side, letting a short, reassuring smile appear on her lips, as if she'd been expecting that question for a long time.
"You don't need to worry about that..." she said, with a practiced calmness that seemed to hide something deeper: "We guarantee you'll be safe... as long as you follow all the rules to the letter"
Then, with a subtle nod, Emily authorized the visitors to enter. They began passing through the door one by one, slow and cautious steps, as if feeling the invisible weight of all eyes on them.
The two security guards, motionless like statues, tracked every movement with hard, unyielding stares, analyzing every gesture, every glance away, like predators lurking for any sign of threat.
In the next moment, the crowd found themselves fully inside a large metal warehouse. A brief silence hung in the air as everyone looked around with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, observing the worn walls, the rusted beams on the ceiling, and the floor covered in a thin layer of dust.
Suddenly, a metallic bang cut through the space, echoing off the structures like thunder trapped inside a steel box. Instinctively, everyone turned at once, only to see the massive warehouse door sliding down with a low creak until it shut with a dull thud.
Emily cast a sharp look over the crowd before raising her voice, capturing everyone's attention firmly and clearly: "Alright, folks. From this point on, you'll be split into groups of five" She paused briefly, as if giving everyone a moment to process the information: "We have a total of thirty participants, which means we'll form exactly six groups"
Emily paused again, as if weighing the importance of what she was about to say, then resumed in a firm, clear voice that seemed to resonate through the room: "When we reach the destination, other scientists will be waiting to guide you during the visit. It's crucial that you follow all instructions with extra care and strictly adhere to the established rules. If you do, I can guarantee everything will proceed safely and without incident"
Without waiting for a response, Emily turned abruptly and started walking toward the elevator that led to the lower floors. Her footsteps echoed lightly on the cold metal floor, carrying a silent determination that no one dared to question.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
It seemed like today would finally be the day those mysterious visits Emily had mentioned before would happen. I still didn't know exactly how everything would work — Emily hadn't revealed many details, which made sense since, deep down, I was one of the main attractions, along with my sisters. From what I gathered, though, we'd be one of the last attractions presented.
All this time, I hadn't left my room — or rather, the containment chamber — just as I promised Emily. Either way, the ice cream supplies were constant, maybe a subtle way to reward me for obeying, or perhaps a disguised act of care.
Interestingly, it was right then that I found myself grateful to have such a peculiar body. No matter how much ice cream I devoured: my teeth never rotted, my brain never froze, even when I ate too fast, and, most surprisingly, I was always in a state of permanent satiety. That meant I could eat as much as I wanted, without ever feeling full or uncomfortable.
Anyway, as I slowly savored my ice cream, I glanced back toward where Nyara usually stood. I expected to find her shy face and her usual gesture of clutching my loose shirt, but, to my surprise, she was standing there, motionless, eyes fixed on the empty space ahead. The expression on her face was one of quiet curiosity.
(What's wrong?) I asked, a flicker of curiosity shining in my eyes.
Hearing my words echo inside her mind, Nyara blinked slowly, as if waking from a distant dream. Her eyes, deep and mysterious, shimmered with a faint silver glint before turning toward me.
In a soft voice, almost a whisper filled with curiosity, she said: "The kids seem restless today, for some reason..."
I couldn't quite understand what Nyara meant by "restless" but when she mentioned "kids" it was clear she was referring to the chaos itself. Still, what exactly did that state of restlessness mean?.
***
(POV - Emily Parker)
As the elevator doors opened with a slight creak, revealing the interior bathed in a dim, yellowish light, the first group entered without hesitation. One by one, the others followed, slowly disappearing as the doors closed on each trip. The process repeated silently, with an almost palpable tension in the air, until only four people remained on the surface: Emily, Victor, Rupert, and Laura.
Alone, Emily scanned everyone's eyes silently for a brief moment, as if assessing the atmosphere around her. With a firm and calm voice carrying a slight tone of confidence, she finally spoke: "Let's stick to the schedule. We probably won't have any major issues today"
Everyone nodded silently. Then, one by one, they stepped into the elevator — a cramped cubicle that seemed to compress the air even more. For a moment, there was dense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above. That's when Emily looked up, as if a sudden memory had surfaced.
Turning her gaze to Victor, she asked, a hint of anxiety in her voice: "By the way, can we expect "That" to happen?"
Victor shot a quick glance at Emily, while his mind tried to grasp what she was implying. When she mentioned "That" he immediately knew she was referring to an imminent threat to the facility.
Despite carefully selecting every group member, no one could guarantee the true intentions behind the mission. They had meticulously searched everyone before entry, ensuring no strange — or at least dangerous — objects went unnoticed.
"Honestly, I'm not sure" Victor replied, his eyes heavy with concern and a slight tension visible on his face: "Of course, we followed all procedures correctly, so I hope nothing too serious happens… but the more I think about it, the more I feel like something is really about to go down"
Hearing Victor's words, Emily raised an eyebrow in curiosity, a slight smile playing at the corner of her lips. Fixing her gaze on him, she asked sharply: "Why do you think that?"
Victor gave a look full of complexity, almost as if weighing each word before letting it out. Then he shrugged with slight indifference, as if not wanting to dig too deep, and answered calmly but firmly: "Intuition"