Chapter 50: Buried Files

Dr. Naomi Wells leaned back in her chair, letting out a quiet sigh as the faint hum of the Academy’s servers filled the otherwise silent lab. It was late, and the building had taken on an eerie calm, the kind that only surfaced when the hallways were empty. Naomi’s eyes were tired from hours of staring at data files, but the work was necessary. Vance demanded precision, and she delivered.

The dim glow of the screen illuminated her face as she scrolled through another batch of test results. Her fingers moved mechanically, tapping through various reports—most of it routine, much of it monotonous. Biofeedback readings, inhibitor adjustments, power output logs. Standard.

But as she navigated deeper into the database, for some reason

an old file caught her attention, standing out among the sea of more recent records. It was labeled “I.O. – Status: Ongoing Containment.” Naomi frowned. She didn’t recognize the initials, but something about it struck her as familiar.

Curious, she opened the file. A series of heavily redacted reports flashed on her screen, entire paragraphs blacked out. Her frown deepened. Naomi had been around the Academy long enough to know when information was being deliberately hidden, but this was different. “I.O.” had been listed as terminated years ago, yet this file suggested otherwise.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she continued reading. The next section was brief, almost frustratingly vague: Subject remains in containment. Further details restricted.

A cold knot began to form in her stomach. It wasn’t unusual for the Academy to keep certain information classified, especially when it came to high-risk subjects. But this… this was unusual. The file wasn’t just hidden—it was buried, like someone had wanted it to be forgotten.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

Naomi’s eyes scanned the rest of the document, but there was little else to glean. No names, no specifics. Just that single, cryptic line about “ongoing containment.” She knew it wasn’t enough to make sense of things, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it connected to something bigger. Something that had been lost, or perhaps deliberately erased, from the Academy’s official records.

A small, redacted note at the bottom of the file caught her eye, and she clicked on it, only to be denied access. Clearance Level 7 Required. Naomi cursed under her breath. She had high clearance, but not that high. There were layers to the Academy’s secrets, and clearly, this one was buried deep.

She leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers lightly against the desk. “I.O.”. The initials danced in her mind, frustratingly out of reach. What could they mean? And why was the file still marked as active, despite being labeled terminated years ago?

Before she could consider pushing further, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway outside the lab, growing closer. Naomi’s pulse quickened, and she instinctively closed the file, returning to her routine work. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, of course, but in a place like the Academy, it paid to be careful.

The door slid open, and Dr. Marcus Vance stepped in, his tall frame casting a shadow across the lab. His expression was as cold and calculated as ever.

“Still working, Wells?” Vance’s voice had a sharpness to it, though he wasn’t accusing—just observant. He always was.

Naomi forced a calm smile, turning in her chair to face him. “Just finishing up. Reviewing the latest test data on Foster and Blackwell.”

Vance nodded, his eyes briefly scanning the room before settling on her again. “Good. Keep monitoring those reports. We’re nearing the point where more aggressive testing may be required.”

Naomi’s heart skipped slightly at the word “aggressive,” but she kept her face neutral. “Of course. I’ll be sure to compile the necessary results.”

Vance lingered for a moment longer, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly, as if assessing her. Naomi met his gaze with practiced indifference. She had worked with Vance long enough to know how to keep her thoughts hidden, especially when it came to her growing discomfort with his methods.

Without another word, Vance turned and left, the door sliding shut behind him.

Naomi exhaled softly, her fingers idly tapping on her desk. The brief exchange had unsettled her, but not nearly as much as what she had just seen in that file.

“I.O.”

She stared at the blackened screen, her mind racing with possibilities. There was a lot she didn’t know—likely more than she would ever be allowed to know—but that file had confirmed something she had long suspected: the Academy was keeping secrets far deeper than she had imagined. And if they were still tracking “I.O.” despite claiming termination, what else were they hiding?

The thought lingered in the back of her mind as she gathered her things, preparing to leave for the night. She knew she couldn’t afford to push too hard.