The night is quiet again — too quiet, like the city is holding its breath.
We walk through what's left of Manhattan, the world around us dipped in silver moonlight and ash. The air smells faintly of ozone, dust, and old fires that never finished burning. Every footstep echoes across the ruins, bouncing off buildings that no longer remember what they used to be.
Nova walks ahead, flashlight steady in her hand, eyes sharp and restless. She's scanning for movement. I'm scanning for snacks.
"So," I say, breaking the silence, "on a scale of one to apocalypse, how bad was that storm thing back there?"
"On a scale?" she repeats, not looking at me. "Ten. Maybe eleven."
"Cool, cool. Love that for us."
She rolls her eyes. "You joke too much."
"I'm allergic to silence."
She doesn't respond, but I catch the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her mouth. Progress.
We move past what used to be Times Square. The massive screens are shattered, their glass faces reflecting a thousand broken moons. A few of the neon signs still flicker weakly — advertisements for products that no one makes anymore.
One blinks red and blue: LIVE FOREVER — ECHELON GENETICS.
The irony could kill a man.
"Guess their marketing aged well," I mutter.
Nova stops, staring at the ruined sign. Her expression hardens. "That's where it started."
I look around. "Here? Times Square?"
"No. Echelon's main branch was beneath this district — deep tunnels, labs, facilities no one knew existed. They ran their final trials underground. When the virus escaped, the entire city became its petri dish."
"So… New York was Patient Zero?"
"In a way." She kneels, brushing dust off the street. Beneath the dirt, I can see faint cracks that aren't from decay — straight, geometric lines leading toward the subway system.
"Those," she says, "are vents. The lab's still down there."
I blink. "Wait, still down there? As in — operational?"
She stands. "That's what we're going to find out."
"Awesome. I've always wanted to break into a top-secret murder lab at night."
"Good. You're getting your wish."
We find an access hatch half-buried under debris near the old subway entrance. Nova pries it open with a crowbar. The air that rises out of it smells wrong — sterile, metallic, almost electric. Like the world below never learned what air is supposed to be.
A narrow ladder leads down into darkness.
Nova starts climbing without hesitation.
I hesitate. "Ladies first, huh?"
She glances up. "If something eats me, run."
"Comforting. Thanks."
I follow her down.
The deeper we go, the quieter it gets. No wind. No sound. Just the echo of metal under our boots and the occasional drip of unseen water.
Finally, we hit the bottom — a long corridor with steel walls, flickering emergency lights, and the faint hum of distant machinery.
It's like stepping into the stomach of a sleeping beast.
We move slowly. Every corner feels like it's waiting for us. The walls are covered in faded warning signs:
BIOHAZARD. CONTAINMENT BREACH. LEVEL RED.
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
"Looks cozy," I whisper.
Nova ignores me. She's focused, eyes flicking from one door to another. "If power's still running, the central reactor might still be online. And if that's true, we might find the Echelon Core."
"Define 'Core.'"
"Central control system. Data hub. Everything that ever happened here is stored there — experiment logs, subjects, failures, escape reports…"
"Cool," I say. "Just your average nightmare hard drive."
We turn a corner and freeze.
A body lies sprawled across the floor, half-mummified, lab coat still clinging to its bones. A plastic ID card dangles from its chest — the Echelon logo printed clear as day.
I kneel, picking it up. "Dr. Elias Korrin. Virology Department."
Nova's jaw tightens. "I knew him."
I look up. "Friend?"
"Once."
She takes the card from me and pockets it, but her hands tremble slightly. "He believed in the project. Believed we could perfect people. He wasn't evil — just blind."
"Blindness killed the world," I say softly.
She exhales. "No. Ambition did."
Further down the hall, we find a door marked CORE ACCESS: RESTRICTED. The keypad beside it is cracked, but the screen flickers faintly to life when Nova touches it.
"Still has power," she murmurs.
She digs into her bag and pulls out a small metal chip — the badge she gave me. "Echelon credentials," she says. "Yours might still have clearance."
I blink. "You mean mine mine?"
"Yeah. Give it here."
I hand it over. She slots it into the panel. The lights on the door flash — red, then yellow, then… green.
The locks disengage with a heavy hiss.
"Okay," I whisper. "That's not terrifying at all."
Nova glances at me. "Stay close."
The door opens to a massive chamber — round, cathedral-like, filled with cables and suspended screens. In the center stands a glass column filled with pulsing blue light. It hums softly, rhythmic like a heartbeat.
"The Core," Nova breathes.
I stare. "Looks like a lava lamp on steroids."
She ignores the joke and approaches the console. Her fingers fly across the cracked interface, calling up ghostly holograms of old data.
Then the screen flickers — and a voice echoes through the chamber.
"User recognized. Nova Elara. Former senior geneticist, Echelon Division Three."
The voice is calm, smooth — and absolutely not human.
"Authorization reinstated."
My skin crawls. "Uh… Nova? Your evil Alexa knows your name."
She stiffens. "It's the system AI. I didn't think it would still be active."
The voice continues, louder now.
"Project Dawn sequence incomplete. Status: 99.8% synchronization. Awaiting final subject."
The blue light pulses faster.
I step back. "Final subject? Please tell me that's not what it sounds like."
Nova's face goes pale. "It's worse. Project Dawn was the virus's second phase — adaptive evolution. It was supposed to merge biological and synthetic matter into a perfect organism."
"Merge? Like… blend people with machines?"
She nods. "They were trying to create a host that could survive anything — plague, decay, time itself."
"And did they?"
Her silence is answer enough.
The Core hums louder, and from the shadows, something moves.
It's tall, almost human-shaped — but its skin is glassy and translucent, veins glowing faintly blue. Its eyes are just dark hollows filled with light. When it breathes, its chest flickers with faint static.
"Oh," I whisper. "Nope. Nope nope nope."
Nova grabs my arm. "Run."
We sprint back toward the corridor as the creature steps fully into the light. It moves with jerky precision, each step echoing like metal scraping on bone. Behind it, the Core flares brighter, almost as if it's watching.
The alarms scream to life, lights flashing red.
"Containment breach detected. Subject active."
"Yeah," I shout, "I can see that!"
We race through the hallways, the creature's footsteps hammering behind us. At one point, I glance back and see it clawing through a wall like it's made of paper.
"WHAT IS THAT THING?" I yell.
"The next version of us," Nova says grimly.
"Well, I vote for the old version!"
We reach the ladder and climb like our lives depend on it — because they do.
The ground shakes. A mechanical roar rips through the tunnels below.
Nova pushes the hatch open and hauls herself out first. I follow, panting, dragging my bag up with me. We slam the hatch shut and shove debris over it.
For a while, we just sit there, catching our breath.
The city above feels strangely peaceful again — no wind, no sound, just the faint glow of distant fires.
Then Nova says quietly, "It's awake now."
I look at her. "You mean that thing down there?"
She nods. "Echelon called it Dawn. It was their final experiment — the being meant to replace us."
"Well," I say, half-laughing, half-trembling, "looks like evolution has bad taste."
She stares toward the skyline, where the clouds are shifting again — darker this time, flickering with blue light.
"Milo," she says softly, "Dawn won't stop at New York. It's spreading."
The words hang in the air like a sentence.
I stare at the horizon — at the rising storm that glows like a heartbeat.
The world didn't end once.
It's ending again.
And this time, it's personal.
---
Authors note:
Hey everyone I'm Rickey and I hope you're enjoying the story wish to see u on the next part. Love you guys!