The metal hallways of Site-X0 left an eerie echo as she made her way back to the lower levels, noticing the fine flakes of jungle dirt from her boots. The quiet was louder without the clicking of Evelyn’s heels—every shift of her coat, every scuff of rubber on steel carried further than it should. The absence of voices, footsteps, or the dull hum of background equipment made it feel like she was walking through an abandoned vault.
Her hands stayed stuffed in her pockets, fingers flexing in slow intervals to keep her nerves from settling too deeply into her muscles. Every hallway had its own sign, its own sterile stenciled label in blocky white letters that she’d memorized: BIO-STORAGE. LAB 3B. SECURE ACCESS WING. PERSONNEL QUARTERS.
She still kept her eyes mobile, scanning for security cameras—there weren’t any. No little red LEDs she would expect from a high-security base. No faint rotation of hidden lenses. No metallic glint of an observation drone. Not a single eye watching them.
I suppose limited wattage means limited surveillance…or perhaps they’re still manufacturing the proper equipment to install. This place was obviously manned before something catastrophic happened and they evacuated or…something worse, as Evelyn insinuated. I can never tell if that devil is lying or telling the truth. Then again, maybe it’s because no cameras means no one is watching her.
Isla’s gaze swept to the smooth, polished pillar walls as she passed them, her fingers brushing them briefly. They were cool to the touch. Smooth. Too smooth. She didn’t like how little give it had. The most creepy part was this feeling, like she was touching the surface of something alive that simply hadn’t realized she was there yet.
Not steel. Not concrete. This isn’t even polymer… It’s something else entirely. Prefabricated or grown? Whatever AEGIS stumbled upon, it should have every government clamoring to get a crack at what new materials and technology they can extract. I guess AEGIS is that scary, transnational secret syndicate they talk about on conspiracy websites.
Her steps slowed, gaze flicking up to the ceiling where those low-powered LED strips pulsed in that slow, metronome rhythm. The steady beat matched the pulse she’d felt earlier—a low throb she could feel in her bones.
Isla’s breath in slow, shallow pulls. Her eyes darted left, right, back behind her. I’m not paranoid yet…but Evelyn makes it hard not to be. This place makes it too easy to feel like something is waiting just out of sight. Keep focused. All paranormal phenomena are simply science not yet understood.
She kept walking.
Her mind played back Evelyn’s words, that sly grin on her face, the way her voice shifted when she spoke about The Fog. Not what’s in the fog… What becomes possible in it. She suggests sleeping and not staying awake. Not creepy at all.
“Possible,” Isla muttered under her breath, eyes narrowing. She’d heard Evelyn talk like that before, back at Oxford. The woman always had a way of dressing up simple ideas in pretty, cryptic language just to make people think. This time, though…there was something behind it. Something she wasn’t saying.
Her eyes darted to the edge of the observation panel as she descended another flight of stairs. The Endless Sea stretched far and wide outside the reinforced glass. Lilac light pulsed through the black depths, making it look like something immense was breathing just out of sight. No fish. No movement. Just that steady, slow pulse of soft purple illumination.
Light source unknown. Depth unknown. Location unknown. I was so focused on Evelyn’s mind games that I haven’t stopped to think about the most obvious questions… Where the hell are we? Did we really drop into the center of the Earth and find…this? Hollow Earth theory? Another dimension?
Her boots struck metal grates as she reached the outer dock, the gentle creak of the bridge barely registering over the distant sound of waves slapping against the sides of the platform. She stepped onto the dock, the salty tang of the air sharper now, cleaner, like she’d just emerged from a pressurized tank.
The Dark Chaser sat at the edge of it, sleek and silent. Black alloy plating reflected the faint light of the water’s glow, its surface smooth as obsidian. Its shape wasn’t quite military, but it wasn’t civilian either—lean, angular, and too sharp for comfort. A hybrid craft. Fast, stealthy, and quiet. She hated that she loved it on sight.
A low clank drew her attention to the left, where a new man snatched her attention with a tactical vest that read: Security.
Broad, wide-shouldered, and built like a human battering ram, he hoisted another heavy black suitcase onto the deck with a grunt. Isla’s eyes lingered on the case for a second longer than they should have. The stenciled text on the side read: RESTRICTED.
“Arms?” she asked, lifting a brow as she approached the ship.
The security operative shot her a look from behind a matte-black visor that revealed nothing but a faint reflection of her face. He didn’t answer, just turned and hauled another case up the ramp.
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“Subtle,” Isla muttered. “And here I thought I was supposed to be the captain leading this party.”
“James doesn’t talk much,” said a voice from inside the boat. The technician stepped out, wiping her hands on her uniform. Light-skinned, red hair, sharp eyes, and a twist of her lips that spoke of someone used to dealing with problems before they escalated. The woman glanced at her, mouth curling into a quick grin. “You must be Dr. Reyes. Welcome aboard, Captain.”
“Lucky me,” Isla replied, stepping onto the boat’s deck and feeling the shift in weight as the vessel’s stabilizers adjusted to her presence. Her eyes flicked to the security operative.
James, huh? At least now I have a name for the brick wall in a helmet.
The technician extended a hand. “Brigid Ngata. Tech lead for the Dark Chaser. Well, I’ve been recently promoted to such, and have been getting to know her for the last few hours. Creepy place, this, huh? Oh, I’m the engineer, navigator, and, occasionally, counselor if you feel like screaming into the void,” she added with a laugh.
Isla eyed her hand, then shook it. “Isla Reyes. Marine Biologist. Survivalist. General explorer, and occasionally the voice of reason. Mostly a babysitter, it seems.”
“Good,” Brigid said, hands on her hips. “We’re gonna need that.”
Her eyes darted to James as he passed, lugging another case with SURVIVAL SUPPLIES marked on the side. Weapons. Gear. Supplies. Survival kit. We’re not coming back here any time soon, are we, Evelyn?
“Where’s the rest of the crew?” Isla asked, gaze flicking to the control station at the front of the vessel.
“Inside,” Brigid said, nodding toward the hatch. “Kael’s checking the equipment manifests. Maeva’s reading the mission packet. Hollow’s…Hollow. Here’s the bag Dr. Hart told me to give you—it has your tablet inside which acts as our camera.”
“Wonderful,” Isla muttered, taking the item and stepping past her to make her way to the deck’s rear. She spotted a bench seat near the edge and dropped her bag onto it before sliding in, letting her legs stretch out as she leaned back. Her eyes flicked to the view of Site-X0 behind them.
The structure seamlessly fused with the obelisk, the reverse ancient ziggurat all the more unusual from this angle rising from the endless sea, all sharp edges and impossible angles. She couldn’t see below the water but knew what it was like from their entrance into this strange place.
Still, at sea level, she could see the old civilization’s handiwork. The pale stone walls flickered faintly with glyph-light, patterns shifting in ways she hadn’t noticed before and weren’t like the panther patterns of the ancient civilization’s technology they’d used to get here. The obelisk-like central pillar jutted from the heart of it, sinking deep into the abyss below.
Her gaze flicked to the water. Still. Perfect. No current. Not even a ripple from the boat’s engine. It was like looking at glass, a liquid mirror. But as her eyes traced it, something clicked in her brain.
No waves further from the obelisk pillar? No light source. No sun. Just an endless, perfectly lit horizon with no source of light. How did I miss it? Her heart thudded once. Shadows. There are no shadows. I…don’t have a shadow.
Her eyes darted down to her boots, to the deck, to the side of the boat. Her reflection was there, sharp and clear in the water below, but her shadow wasn’t. The ship didn’t cast one, either. It left a reflection but not a shadow.
Her eyes flicked back to Site-X0. The base had shadows.
She leaned forward, hands on her knees, eyes darting between the surface of the sea and the distant obelisk. Her breath slowed.
What a weird place… It’s like I’ve stepped into a dream. A smooth sea that looks like you could walk on it, only disrupted and showing movement against the side of the ship or the obelisk. So, gravity and friction function, but the shadows…
Her gaze lifted to the sky. No sun. No moon. No light source. Just a smooth, cloudless glow that stretches on forever. No change in brightness. No shift in intensity. No up, no down, no direction. Her hands curled into fists on her knees. How are we supposed to navigate or find our way back? Impossible physics… Something’s not right.
Her gaze dropped to the bag she’d been given, and she pulled out the tablet, noticing her favorite chips and snacks from college inside with a grimace. Evelyn, you shouldn’t have… Damn, she’s creepy. The level of detail in that woman is frightening.
Activating the tablet, information immediately came to life on the dull screen, no doubt conserving power based on what first popped up. Her eyes settled on the words ‘450-watt restriction.’ The manual laid it out clearly as she scanned through it—every system was isolated. No interlinked networks. No automated data feeds.
Everything’s manual. If it’s not connected, it’s not hackable. If it’s not hackable, it’s not vulnerable… Only those are the excuses given to the others, she noted with a frown while reading the additional data only accessible to her, apparently. If any device operates higher than 500 watts, then a calamity is sure to come and kill us.
Her eyes darted back to the sea. I guess even you have to care about personnel if you want to get results, Evelyn, but you could have at least been a bit more specific about what kind of calamity. Is it The Fog or something else?
Her breath came slow. Steady. A soft smile curled at the edge of her lips. I suppose that’s something to discover, and who’s to say such calamities are unsurvivable. Oh, look, Evelyn even added her own thoughts on things I should be cautious of… How sweet, you care about me enough to dedicate time to write me a do and do not list.
“Babysitter, huh?” she muttered, eyes flicking to the impossible horizon. Her voice barely carried over the sound of the engine as it hummed to life, low and steady, like a pulse threading through the world. “More like the cheerleader to keep everyone on mission and not running home when the weird shit starts happening.”