The underground floors descended deeper and deeper, their walls, carved from rusted metal, emanating a faint smell of corrosion and age, characteristic of an abandoned base complex. Steel panels, stained with rust and cracks, seemed to close in, as if squeezing Syren in the cold embrace of the depths. The air grew heavier, saturated with dampness and a muffled hum coming from unknown depths. Each step echoed dully, and the dim light of emergency lamps barely pierced the growing darkness. Syren quickened his pace, following the gliding figure of Protocol Eclipse, whose blue wolf-mask eyes glimmered ahead like a beacon in this endless labyrinth.
Unable to bear the silence, he broke it, his voice tinged with curiosity mixed with unease.
"Speaking of the underworld, what does that mean? You don't literally mean hell, do you?"
Protocol Eclipse halted, her holographic form flickering as her mask turned toward him. Her expression behind the mask remained impassive, but her blue eyes blinked, betraying something akin to cold mockery. She tilted her head, and thin wisps of vapor escaped the cracks in her mask, dissolving into the air.
"That's exactly what I mean. This place is an unstable dimension, its existence tethered to quantum entanglement with our space-time. It exists parallel to our reality, sustained by chaotic fluctuations of subatomic particles, where the boundaries of matter and energy blur."
Syren blinked, his face blank with confusion, but he didn't interrupt.
"Entities of a different nature dwell here, their essence feeding on the ether permeating the quantum field. These beings exist in an endless cycle of brutality, devouring each other to survive. We collectively call them natives, though 'demons' would be closer to the truth."
Syren froze, his mouth slightly agape, his organic eye twitching with irritation. *Sub-what? Quantum fluctuations? Does she seriously expect me to understand her?*
Protocol Eclipse continued, her tone sharpening.
"If you don't want to deal with them, you'd better hurry."
Syren snapped his head up, indignation flaring in his chest.
"Couldn't you have mentioned that earlier?!" His voice echoed off the rusted walls. "You led me here like it's a casual stroll, and now it turns out there are hellish creatures?!"
Protocol Eclipse spun around sharply, her blue eyes boring into him with severity. Her mask trembled, emitting a metallic click, and the vapor from its cracks thickened, as if underscoring her irritation.
"You dare reproach me?" Her voice carried a threatening edge. "I saved you from death, integrated my existence into your pathetic body so you could survive. And you waste time whining instead of moving. If you want to stay in one piece, follow me and keep quiet until I decide you're worthy of knowing more."
Syren clenched his fists, his bionic eye flashing with anger, but he swallowed the retort ready to spill out. *Saved me? You just tethered me to you like a damn dog! And now I'm supposed to be grateful?*
He nodded, grinding his teeth, and followed her, the corridor's darkness swallowing them deeper.
"So, you built a base in freaking hell and did who-knows-what? Am I the only one who finds that idea bizarre?"
Passing by several rooms, he suddenly noticed something: among the debris and dust lay long-decayed human skeletons, their bones gleaming through tattered remnants of uniforms. The sight sent a chill down his spine, and he instinctively slowed, casting a wary glance at the holographic figure ahead.
Protocol Eclipse didn't turn, her voice ringing with cold certainty.
"Exploring another dimension is a noble goal, one worth sacrificing lives for."
Syren scoffed, his bionic eye glinting with indignation.
"You're all deranged psychos."
"Say what you want; you wouldn't understand," she snapped, her tone growing sharper as she pressed forward, not deigning to respond further.
Syren frowned, his thoughts spiraling. *Noble goal? Something clearly went wrong here, considering everyone's lying around in piles of bones!*
He clenched his fists and asked another question, trying to mask his growing unease.
"So, how do we get out of here? It doesn't look like anyone's coming to rescue us."
He glanced around. The base's corridors stretched like dead arteries, their rusted walls covered in a web of cracks, and doors, once sturdy steel, now hung on corroded hinges. The floor was littered with broken equipment and dust, and the air reeked of decay. It felt like this place had long been abandoned to the mercy of the stars.
Protocol Eclipse pointed ahead, her holographic hand flickering.
"There's a transit node below. Through it, we can escape to our reality," she explained impassively.
Syren narrowed his eyes, curiosity overriding his fear.
"Wait," he said, lowering his voice. "If this node works, why didn't you get out yourself? And there's an awful lot of remains here. It doesn't look like they died of old age."
Protocol Eclipse fell silent, her figure briefly glitching, but she didn't respond. *If they could escape, why did they stay? Or were they forced to?*
Syren didn't know, nor was he in a hurry to pry into someone else's business. It wasn't his concern, so why should he care?
They pressed on, and soon the corridor led them to their destination. Before them loomed a spacious room with a massive reinforced door, its surface marred with dried stains and claw marks.
At the threshold lay scattered human skeletons, frozen in desperate poses, as if they'd tried to escape this cursed place but failed. Empty eye sockets stared into nothingness, and scraps of clothing fluttered in a faint draft, amplifying the sense of hopelessness.
Syren froze, his heart pounding. He glanced at Protocol Eclipse, expecting an explanation, but her silence only deepened his unease.
The hologram glided toward the massive door, her flickering form casting faint glimmers on the corroded walls. Syren, gritting his teeth, followed, trying not to look at the skeletons scattered at the threshold, their bones gleaming in the dim light.
"Clear the remains," her cold, commanding voice echoed in his mind. "Behind them, you'll find a panel with a port. Connect to it."
He grimaced, eyeing the pile of bones stacked against the door like a barricade. Large crystals glistened on their surfaces, faintly glowing in the light of the emergency lamps.
*Could these people have been infected, gone mad, and killed everyone around them? That would explain why no one's left and why the base was likely marked as a quarantine zone,* he thought, but brushed it aside, dragging the skeletons away. A few bones crunched under his foot, and, unable to hold back, he kicked the remaining ones aside.
"Now what?" he muttered, wiping his hands on his pants.
Her clear voice sounded in his mind again.
"Open the panel. Just pry off the cover."
Syren scowled, muttering to himself. Kneeling, he pried open the dented metal cover, which gave way with a dull screech. Beneath it lay a port, covered in cobwebs and dust, with a faintly blinking connector.
"I integrated a wired interface into your body," she continued. "It's at the base of your neck. Plug it into the port and channel the ether through your conduits to restart the system."
"What?" He froze, his bionic eye flaring with surprise. "An interface? What the hell is that? Is it even safe to run ether through an implant in my neck?"
The hologram turned her head, her blue wolf-mask eyes narrowing with a hint of mockery.
"I'm directly controlling the connection, so rest assured, nothing will happen to you. Just plug in the cable and channel the energy. Don't complicate things."
"Don't complicate?" he scoffed, his voice trembling with indignation. "You stitched some crap into me, and I'm just supposed to 'channel energy'? What if it kills me?"
"The base's outer doors have long been breached," her voice sharpened. "The moment I transferred the Archive into your body, all the base's mechanisms shut down. Nothing's stopping those creatures from breaking through now. So decide what you're going to do—stand there waiting for the natives or listen to me and plug that damn interface into the port!"
Syren clenched his fists but didn't argue. Feeling for the thin cable at the base of his neck, he reluctantly plugged it into the port's connector. A click, and his bionic eye blazed with light, flooding his vision with a stream of data. The hologram suddenly vanished, her flickering form dissolving into the air, but her voice lingered, ringing in his head.
"Now channel the ether for feedback."
He frowned, recalling how to manage the energy flows integrated into his body. To his surprise, the process was easier than before. The ether, like liquid light, flowed through his conduits, obeying his will with unfamiliar ease. Thin tendrils of black smoke began seeping from his skin, curling in the air like toxic mist—a typical manifestation of dead ether. If he were in a populated area, he'd be arrested on the spot for ether contamination.
"Did you do something?" he asked. "Why's the ether flowing so easily? And the pain's almost gone!"
Her voice in his head was calm.
"I installed a cast-grid to help manage the strain on your conduits. But don't you dare increase the voltage. Unrefined ether will overload the grid and burn it out—along with you."
He flinched, his heart skipping a beat at her words. *A thing that could burn me from the inside? Nice bonus to being 'saved.'* But, gritting his teeth, he obeyed, restraining the energy flow.