The signal led us beneath what was left of Dockside's old freight district—into rusted catwalks and flooded basements that hadn't seen sunlight in years. The air tasted like mildew and old copper wiring. Finch traced the ping to a power surge in one of the old maintenance sectors. Off-grid. Forgotten.
But not abandoned.
Lucas and Maya moved ahead while Finch trailed, managing the scanner. The sound of dripping water echoed like footsteps, unnerving in the near-dark.
Maya's voice cut through the silence. "Are we even sure this is the place? Smells like a boiler room died in here."
Lucas didn't answer at first. He scanned the walls, lit only by the cold blue of the flashlight.
"Feels right," he said at last, his voice quiet. "Wrong kind of silence."
Maya grumbled. "Yeah, well, you better hope your instincts are better than your sense of direction."
They stepped through a rusted doorway into a wider chamber. Rows of industrial piping lined the far walls, and the floor was scattered with old debris.
Lucas moved deeper, scanning with his eyes, trying to feel something through the damp weight of the air. But then he heard it—
"Lucas," Maya called from somewhere to his right. Her voice had shifted—less teasing, more alarmed. Urgent. Focused.
Lucas paused, pivoting toward her voice. "What is it?"
"Just—get over here," she said, flashing her beam against the wall.
He crossed the room, stepping over a rusted pipe and a fractured crate. Maya was crouched beside a long, black scorch mark that laced its way across the concrete like a lightning scar. It twisted, curling toward a mangled cluster of collapsed piping and warped steel.
Lucas narrowed his eyes. "That looks recent."
"Yeah," Maya muttered. "Too recent."
She rose slowly, sweeping her light across the room. More scorch trails branched outward like veins. Burned metal. Shattered fixtures. Everything felt... disturbed.
Lucas reached out and touched a still-warm patch of floor.
"That wasn't just heat damage. Something overloaded here. Hard."
The moment stretched.
And then the air changed—subtle but unmistakable. It shifted—electric and unstable, like the space itself inhaled and held its breath.
From the shadow near a collapsed service tunnel, a figure emerged.
She didn't walk so much as drift—drawn forward by something only she could hear.
Pale. Gaunt. Ragged hoodie clinging to her frame, eyes hollow with too many sleepless nights and not enough reality. Strands of coppery hair tangled over her cheek. Her hands trembled, and with every breath, the space around her bent—pulling in light and sound like gravity gone wrong.
Black Alice.
"Get out," she rasped.
Lucas took a measured step forward, his hands raised. "We're not here to hurt you."
She flinched like the words struck her. Her pupils narrowed. The air snapped with tension, a raw surge of pressure vibrating through the floor.
"Liar," she hissed. Her eyes flared, wild and disoriented. "I remember you. You stood behind the glass. You watched us burn."
Her voice wavered—layered in rage and something far more fragile underneath. Fear, confusion, the residue of too many broken memories stitched together wrong. Her fingers jerked uncontrollably, crackling with unstable energy, like her body was trying to reject itself.
Lucas stopped, exchanging a quiet glance with Maya.
Maya lowered her weapon an inch, speaking softly. "Hey… it's okay. You're safe now. We're not here to harm you."
Lucas took another cautious step. "You're remembering wrong. I wasn't outside the glass. I was behind it—with you."
Alice recoiled. Her breath quickened, her steps clumsy and uneven as she stumbled backward into the light. Her whole frame shook.
"Don't lie to me," she spat. "I saw your face—I heard you. You gave the order. You watched when they cut into us."
Lucas looked at Maya again, voice tight. "It's a memory bleed. She's stuck in it—looping."
Maya nodded, her tone low and steady. "Don't escalate. Stay grounded."
Lucas turned back, his voice gentler now. "Whatever they made you believe—whatever pieces they jammed into your head—it's not your fault. They did this to you."
Alice's hands shook harder, light pulsing erratically across her skin. Her power was slipping, flaring in flickers. But she hadn't attacked.
Not yet.
"I'm not your enemy," Lucas said again, taking another step. "I'm trying to help you find the truth."
Maya nodded. "Stay with her. Don't push."
Lucas stepped closer, slow and grounded. "Whatever they made you see, whatever they put in your head… that wasn't real. Not all of it."
Alice's hands trembled as energy coiled at her fingertips, flickering with stolen magic—dark red and violet threads swirling around her like a storm waiting to break. She didn't strike. Not yet. But her eyes were wild, frantic. The room seemed to hum with her breath.
"I'm not your enemy," Lucas said softly. "I promise."
Then the pulse erupted.
A wave of concussive energy detonated outward. Maya dove behind a crate as the shockwave shattered overhead lights and sent rusted piping tumbling from the ceiling. Metal screeched as it collapsed around them.
Lucas lifted his hands—too late. The Artifact pulsed, but only weakly. The kinetic charge fizzled, heat crawling uselessly beneath his skin.
Alice rose higher, her feet barely brushing the ground. Her aura crackled like electricity drowning in gasoline. She screamed, voice splintering through the air, and hurled another wave—raw chaos.
Lucas threw himself sideways, rolling hard. Sparks rained across his back as another pipe burst, spewing steam and ash. He caught sight of Maya pinned behind twisted debris, one arm shielding her head.
Another pulse was building—stronger.
Lucas didn't hesitate.
He bolted from cover, shoulder clipping a rusted pipe. Sparks exploded around him. He winced, felt the heat slice past his cheek. Every nerve screamed, but he kept moving.
"Come on," he muttered, trying to will the Artifact into gear. His palms tingled, buzzing erratically. Heat built under his skin, but the charge wouldn't settle. It flickered—unreliable. Untamed.
He rounded a bent support beam as the next blast fired.
The wave came fast. Violent. He threw himself into a dive, the energy screaming past inches from his ribs. It slammed into the wall behind, detonating it into molten shrapnel.
Lucas rolled, shoulder catching hard against the floor. Grit ground into his palms. He pushed up—sprinting.
Maya was still down. Pinned.
Alice floated midair, barely conscious of her body. Her magic flared wildly, shredding the edges of reality around her, pulling pipes from the ceiling and cracking the foundation beneath her feet.
Lucas pushed harder, faster. Kinetic energy surged briefly in his legs—a pulse, then gone. Just enough.
He reached her.
Didn't swing. Didn't hesitate.
He lunged and wrapped his arms around her.
She convulsed. Magic tore through the air around them in a corona of flame and static. One more second and she would've collapsed the ceiling.
Lucas held tight.
"Stop! This isn't you!" he shouted. "I know you're still in there—please, wake up!"
She writhed, screaming into his shoulder, trying to shove him away with sparks erupting from her skin. But he clung to her like an anchor in the storm.
"I've seen this! I've lived it! You don't have to break like they wanted us to! You're not gone!"
Her fists pounded his back—less forceful now. Her aura flickered.
And then—
The storm cracked.
Magic burst outward one last time—then fizzled. Silent.
She gasped, collapsing into him.
Lucas held her as she crumbled, her legs giving way. Arms shaking. Tears smearing through ash and blood on her cheeks.
Lucas held her as she trembled, arms shaking, chest hitching with broken sobs.
"Why didn't you fight back?" she whispered.
"Because I saw what it was doing to you," he said. "Because I've been there."
Silence stretched. Then Maya joined them, limping but upright.
They sat together on the cold concrete, catching their breath as the room slowly calmed.
Later, after the chaos had finally drained from the room and the silence held, they moved Alice to a clearer space near the wall. Maya offered her a coat from the pack, which she wrapped tightly around her narrow shoulders like a shield. A protein bar, a bottle of water—small mercies, but they grounded her.
For a while, no one spoke. Just the sound of breath, and the occasional rattle of the building settling around them.
Then Alice—Lori—began to talk.
"I was taken during a containment sweep in Blüdhaven," she said, voice raw but steadying. "One second I was blacking out from the overload... the next, I woke up in Cadmus. Underground. Wires in my arms. Needles in my spine."
Finch crouched nearby, wiping blood from his lip. "Helix?"
She nodded. "Yeah. That was the name I heard whispered through the walls. They didn't let us speak. Didn't call us by name. Just numbers. Trials. Adjustments. I was C-03. Or maybe C-09, once. They changed us when they wanted different data."
Lucas shifted closer, his voice careful. "Did you ever see the man from the footage?"
Alice's eyes darkened. "Not directly. But I heard him. Just once. When they shut down Block Three. Everything went quiet... except for his voice. Cold. Sharp. Final. Like someone who'd already decided how we'd all end."
She glanced at Lucas, searching his face. "You heard it too, didn't you?"
He nodded. "In the flashes. Like it was stitched into the noise."
"Then you know," she said. "He's not gone. People like that—they don't vanish. They wait."
Maya folded her arms, tense. "You said you weren't alone. That others escaped."
Alice looked up. "I wasn't. One of them... K-09. He helped me get out. Strong. Quiet. They did things to him I never understood. But he remembered things the rest of us couldn't. He didn't forget like we were supposed to."
"Where is he now?" Lucas asked.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But a few months ago, I felt something. Like a current pulling through the air. The magic started acting weird—off-pattern. It came from a place I never wanted to see again."
She looked at Lucas, and this time, her voice was steadier.
"Port Garrison. The old shipyard. He might be there. Or... whatever's left of him."
Lucas stood, slowly. The weariness in his bones felt a little more distant now.
"Then that's where we go."
They gathered their things, stepping carefully over the debris as they left the hollow remnants of the old Cadmus fallout behind.
Three survivors, bound by loss—and purpose.
Author's Note:
If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at [email protected]/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support.