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Everywhere, At The End Of Time
chapter 2 Carving a new path of a dead-end [part 1]

chapter 2 Carving a new path of a dead-end [part 1]

"I... I don’t know… My memories are so cloudy," I mutter, touching my face—my missing face. How can I see without eyes, breathe without a nose, or speak without a mouth? And yet... I can hear too!

"The analysis is complete. You're ready for the procedure," the woman behind the glass states calmly.

"What procedure? Don’t leave me hanging! I don’t even know what’s happening!"

"You’ll understand, soon enough."

Without warning, the glass separating us dissolves into thin air, vanishing as if it never existed.

"Come forward," she says, her voice soothing, yet unsettling. "I know you're confused. Scared. But everything will make sense, in time."

A shiver crawls down my spine, warning me to stay back. But despite my instincts, I move toward her, each step measured and slow. As I get closer, I can see her more clearly—her hair shifting in color. Pink? Black? Am I seeing two people?

"I’ll dim the brightness so your [eyes] can adjust."

The room’s blinding light dims, revealing her fully. She’s not what I expected.

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She gazes at me with cold, soulless eyes, like she’s studying an object rather than a person. A new species, perhaps.

"I see... You carry traces of him. No wonder you're... extraordinary."

"Him? You mean the glowing white eyes you mentioned earlier?"

"No… something far worse."

Her eyes remain fixed on me, vacant but thoughtful, as though she’s recalling a dark memory. The room feels heavier now, the air thick with a sense of something hidden, something waiting.

I freeze. Fear coils around me, but before I can react, a sharp "ting" echoes in the room. Her eyes widen slightly—a brief flicker of recognition.

"Give me your hand," she says, her voice soft yet commanding. "Any will do."

Hesitant, I extend my deformed left hand. She examines it for a moment, then turns to something invisible to my [eyes].

"Afraid of needles? You’ll be getting one."

My pulse races. Needles? What is she doing to me? My mind spins with questions and fear, but before I can pull back—

"And… done. How do you feel?"

"Huh? What? What did you just do?" I yank my hand back, inspecting it for any changes. But nothing looks different. It's the same… isn’t it?

"My name is Dolly," she says, her tone shifting into something more conversational. "I’m the head scientist here at the EYES organization. Apologies for the confusion, for keeping you in the dark."

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"Dolly... Can you explain? I have no memory of anything, except waking up in that blinding white room."

She hands me a small mirror. I stare at my reflection, but there’s no face—just blank, smooth skin. Nothing.

"We found you during a mission, inside a capsule."

She activates a hologram, showing an image of me, unconscious, sealed inside a giant pod.

"The Keepers were closing in fast. They’re… well, they’re entities of immense power. Some bend reality, others possess raw strength or magic beyond comprehension. We didn’t have time to study you there, so we brought you here, hoping you’d know something. Something about why you were in that capsule. Or why you carry traces of him."

Another image flashes—a capsule filled with wiggling, flesh-like organisms. A strange symbol is etched on its side: a twisted T, a flipped K, and two circles.

"In the end," Dolly says quietly, "you’re just a victim, like me."

The hologram flickered before settling into video mode. Someone’s POV came into view—a shaky, frantic image. They were screaming, but the language was foreign, garbled, frantic. They were in a plane, the camera bouncing wildly as it flew away from a massive structure in the distance. That same twisted symbol—a combination of T, K, and two circles—loomed over the building, eerily familiar from the earlier images.

The rumble started low, almost like a growl from deep underground, but then it swelled into a roar. The camera jerked as the structure exploded, the sound reverberating like a nuclear blast. A shockwave rippled outward, and I felt it, as though the force had reached into the room, rattling the very air around me.

Inside the plane, there were shouts of joy, laughter even. Celebration.

“Damn, I don’t know what’s going on,” I muttered, “but hearing them cheer—it makes me feel... happy?”

Beside me, Dolly stiffened. She turned away, avoiding my eyes, but something in her expression—something dark—made the "hair" on the back of my neck stand on end.

I turned back to the hologram, feeling an unfamiliar pit in my stomach. The video wasn’t over yet.

Seconds passed in eerie quiet as the camera panned toward the ruins. Smoke billowed into the sky, and for a moment, nothing stirred. Then—it appeared.

A monstrous blur streaked toward the camera from the ruined structure, moving impossibly fast. It had no eyes, a similar appearance to a sunflower, and a gaping, circular maw filled with hundreds of jagged, spinning teeth along with spiky wriggling roots. The grinding noise hit like a scream—a whine so high-pitched it stabbed into my ears. Screams followed. Bloodcurdling. Desperate.

"FUCK YOU! DIE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" The voice came from the video, frantic, unhinged.

The camera wrenched as the person holding it grabbed something nearby—some sort of glowing tool that looked like a chainsaw but got modified. Without hesitation, they lunged toward the creature, jamming the weapon into its gaping mouth.

The grinding of the chainsaw against the creature’s teeth was unbearable. A hideous screech of tearing flesh and bone. Yellow liquid—thick and sickly—sprayed everywhere, splattering across the camera lens, blurring the image in a wash of viscous gore. The stench must’ve been awful. I could almost taste it—sour, metallic, something rotten.

The camera dropped, the POV crashing to the floor, and I saw it. Bodies. Twisted, contorted, impaled on blackened tentacles like roots that writhed like snakes, skewering them like meat on a spit.

Their skin bubbled. Melting. Peeling. Strange yellow liquid oozed from the cracks in the walls, from the floor, eating away at everything it touched. I couldn’t breathe. My chest felt tight as if I could feel my own skin burning, dissolving.

Then something hit the camera, making spin, out of control. A flash of something grotesque—a hand, still clutching the chainsaw, grinding it into the monster’s skull, even as the body attached to it had melted away. Only the hand remained, the flesh slipping off in chunks, but still it held on.

The chainsaw whined, and the monster let out a roar that rattled my teeth. Yellow liquid gushed from its wound, spraying the plane. The walls began to dissolve faster, the metal curling away like wet paper.

Suddenly, an alarm blared, loud enough to make my ears bleed. The video shook violently. Then came the crash—loud, final.

Silence.

I stared at the black screen, waiting for the video to end. But it didn’t. Something moved in the darkness. A shadow. Then, two glowing eyes pierced through the black screen, staring straight at me. Unblinking. Cold.

I felt a chill crawl up my spine. Those eyes... It felt like they were watching me.

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