The hum of the accelerator was deafening.
Not sound, but vibration—shaking the bones in my chest, making the air feel too heavy to breathe.
The chamber felt alive. Steel walls stretched upward like the ribs of a sleeping giant. In the middle of it all, the coil pulsed faint blue, like a heartbeat under skin.It looked less like a machine and more like a heart—one that had been waiting far too long to wa
We'd tested it a hundred times in simulation. But the real thing?
The real thing was terrifying.
I leaned on the railing, closer than any technician was allowed. Rules were never my strength.
If this worked, we would bridge parallel dimensions. Humanity's first step into infinity.
If it failed—
Well. There were worse ways to go than as the first witness of the unknown.
The intercom cracked.
"Dr. Kieran, final sequence initiating in thirty seconds."
Thirty seconds.
I swallowed hard. My palms slicked inside my gloves.
The coil flared brighter. Energy spat across the conduits like chained lightning.
The air bent.
The light fractured.
Then—silence.
A silence so sharp it cut. My ears popped. My breath snagged.
And the center opened.
Not a machine, not an explosion—something else.
A tear. A wound.
Light twisted into impossible colors, pulling my gaze into the abyss.
And in it—something stared back.
Not reflection.
Not imagination.
Something aware.
My grip on the railing slipped. My voice rasped out, low, shaky.
"…What are you?"
No reply. Just weight. Pressure. A gaze that wasn't human.
The floor lurched. Consoles burst in sparks.
Screams ripped across the comms.
Then came the light.
Blinding. Consuming.
Every nerve set ablaze. My body unspooled into fire and static.
And then—nothing.
---
I opened my eyes.
The ceiling above me glowed faintly, laced with veins of circuitry. Not concrete. Not steel. Something alive.
My chest rose and fell, steady and mechanical. Too steady. Too wrong.
I pushed myself up—slow, heavy.
My hands clinked against the floor.
Not hands.
Metal fingers gleamed under the pulsing light, each joint whirring with delicate precision. My reflection glared back—red optics where my eyes should be.
My throat clenched. But no breath came.
"…No." My voice rasped—metallic, hollow. "No, no, no…"
I pressed my palms to my chest. A hum answered me. A machine's rhythm where my heart should be.
Panic flooded in.
Except… panic had no heartbeat anymore.
I scrambled back. My joints clicked, too smooth, too fast. My fingers dug grooves in the floor.
"This isn't—this isn't me!"
Silence.
Then—
A voice.
Inside my skull. Smooth. Cold.
"Welcome back, Subject-09."
I froze. My optics flared red.
"…Who said that?"
No reply. Just a hum, deep in my mind.
"Answer me!"
The silence pressed tighter. Then another whisper, sharper.
"You are operational. Integration successful."
Integration.
The word clawed through me.
"I'm not integrated," I hissed. "I'm human."
What the hell was happening !?
The voice did not care.
"Diagnostics stable. Motor functions optimal."
I slammed my hand against the wall. The metal dented under my palm. Sparks jumped.
"…God." My voice cracked. "What did you do to me?"
For a moment, nothing. Then—laughter.
Faint, echoing. Not human.
"No…" I shook my head. My optics flickered. "Get out of my head."
But the voice was already fading, replaced by silence.
---
I staggered forward. My footsteps rang against the floor—too heavy, too sharp.
"Think. Think."
But thought itself felt different. Too clear. Too precise. Like someone had tightened all the wires in my skull.
Memories flickered—screams, light, the chamber collapsing. Then blackness.
And now this.
I reached for the wall. My fingers dug grooves in it without effort. Strength I'd never had. Strength I didn't want.
My optics adjusted, scanning lines of text across the surface of my vision. Numbers. Readouts. Data.
I cursed. "Turn it off! Stop it!"
But the numbers kept streaming.
I clenched my fists, trembling. "This isn't me. I'm not your… Subject-09."
The silence stretched. Only the hum of machinery filled it.
Then—faint, mechanical whispers around me. Not in my head this time. Actual voices, echoing through the chamber.
"…active…"
"…stabilized…"
"…containment required…"
I spun, optics flaring. "Who's there?!"
No one. Just shadows. Just the glow of circuitry.
I took a step back. My voice cracked. "Show yourself!"
The whispers died.
And then the chamber lights flared, flooding the metallic hall in sterile white.
My optics adjusted instantly. My body froze.
Dozens of figures stood beyond the glass wall ahead.
Not human.
Machines.
Tall, chrome bodies. Optics glowing. Silent. Watching.
Every single one turned their head toward me in perfect unison.
My chest tightened. If I could sweat, I would have been drenched.
"…What the hell did you bring me into?" I whispered.
None of them moved.
But deep inside my head, the cold voice returned.
"Welcome home."