Chapter 1: The Violet Anomaly

PERFECTING ALPHA-7

Elias focused his microscope, looking through the lens at the iridescent liquid. Alpha-7 gleamed beneath the harsh laboratory lights, its molecular structure finally obtaining the ideal crystalline formation he had been looking for for years. The sight sparked a rush of possibilities within him, potentially transforming their understanding of dimensional physics.

"Beautiful."

He straightened his shoulders, rolling them to relieve the tension after hours of watching. The digital clock on the wall displayed 3:47 AM, indicating another late night at the facility. Stretching caused his neck to snap, a reminder of the extended hours he had spent hunched over his work.

The monitoring equipment hummed continuously as it analysed the most recent batch of data.

Previous versions of Ethereon showed concerning instabilities, but Alpha-7's measurements were consistent across all parameters. There was no cellular deterioration, quantum tunnelling effects, or unexpected phase shifts; everything appeared to be perfect.

A small voice in the back of his head murmured, "Too perfect, perhaps."

A shrill buzzer interrupted his thoughts.

Elias glared at the spatial frequency scanner, his fingers tensed on the desk's edge. A violet wave pulsed across the screen, unlike anything he'd seen during his investigation.

 He tapped the monitor to check for issues, his stomach squeezing with increasing unease.

The wave became more intense.

"This can't be right."

He brought up archived data from previous studies and compared wavelengths, his hands moving with trained efficiency across the holographic interface. Nothing matched.

"Computer, run diagnostics on scanner systems."

"All systems are operating within normal parameters," the AI said, its calm tone contradicting his growing unease.

The violet frequency increased again, this time more significantly.

Elias' skin prickled, and a cold sensation crept up his spine. He'd seen enough abnormalities at work to believe his senses when something felt wrong. His discovery was not a simple measurement error. The air itself appeared to have a peculiar charge, causing the hair on his arms to stand on edge.

"Computer, retrieve all data on dimensional resonance from previous Ethereon trials."

The screens displayed charts and graphs. His eyes flew between them, searching for patterns, guided by years of research experience.

The unsuccessful Beta series showed traces of similar violet distortions, but they were barely noticeable.

How did he miss this?

The omission caused his chest to tighten with professional guilt and mounting alarm.

Alpha-7 shimmered in its containment chamber, the liquid appearing to respond to the scanner's measurements. Elias might have sworn it pulsed with the same violet colour, reflected in his wide eyes.

The colour triggered something basic in his mind—a warning signal he couldn't quite understand.

He pushed his palms on the cool surface of his desk, attempting to steady himself against the dizziness of his racing thoughts.

What if the breakthrough he'd been working on, the perfected form of Ethereon, hadn't eliminated the adverse effects?

What if he had merely pushed them to a frequency he couldn't accurately measure?

The possibilities filled him with fear.

LOCKED OUT

Elias' fingers sped across the holographic interface, bringing up every study file he could find. The violet frequency's pulse increased in intensity, mirroring the pounding of his heart.

"Computer, access all historical data on dimensional resonance patterns, clearance level Gamma."

"Access is denied. Council Directive 7-Alpha prohibits the use of certain files."

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His brow wrinkled. That didn't make sense; he had Gamma clearance for all Ethereon research.

"Computer, override. Authorisation: Astren-E-7-9-4."

"Override denied. Warning: Multiple access attempts may result in account suspension."

Elias smashed his palm on the desk. The Council had never denied him access before. He used a different method, digging through older archival tests before the Ethereon trials.

He noticed a file labelled "Ethereon - Project Twin Dimensions." The title blazed with a red classification flag, but he caught a glimpse of the preview:

"Containment Status: Unstable."

The screen turned black.

"We have suspended access to the account. Please contact the Council Administration."

"No, no, no."

Elias typed frantically, hoping to restore the lost data. He was barred from accessing anything, including his research notes, during his ban.

The violet wave pulsed more intensely on the scanner, mocking his impotence.

Could the Council please clarify why information about dimensional disturbances is being withheld? 

They had always emphasised transparency in their scientific pursuits.

His gaze shifted to the shimmering Ethereon sample.

The Coitl understood something about these frequencies—something they did not want their scientists to uncover.

How many other people saw these patterns? Were they also silenced?

Elias scratched his temples, his thoughts racing.

The Council oversaw all research facilities, data networks, and communication channels. They could suppress information about Ethereon's actual nature.

"What are you hiding?"

He addressed the empty lab, observing the violet wave intensify on the one functioning screen.

THE BREACH

Elias took a little device from his coat pocket—an override module he'd created for emergency system breakdowns. Using it now broke every protocol, but the Council's lie gave him no alternative.

"Execute override sequence Dark-7-Beta."

Red caution icons appeared on his screen. The system fought back, but Elias anticipated the security measures. His fingers sped over the keyboard, avoiding firewall after firewall.

The encrypted files broke open. Data filled his screen—research logs, incident reports, and classified memoranda.

His heart stopped as he saw the death tolls.

"Project Twin Dimensions—Total Mortality Rate: 89%."

The violet wave appeared on his monitors. His equipment ignited, and the screens flickered with cascading errors. The lab's lights faltered.

During the turmoil, snippets of writing burned into his mind:

"...dimensional tear growing beyond containment..."

"...same frequency signature as previous breaches..."

"...survivors exhibited severe molecular destabilisation..."

A high-pitched whine sounded through the air. The Ethereon sample in its containment chamber vibrated, causing inconceivable patterns to appear on its surface.

Warning klaxons blared throughout the complex. The emergency lights cast a crimson glow over everything.

"All personnel are requested to depart immediately."

The computer screens went blank, then displayed a single message:

"Emergency Data Purge Initiated."

Elias watched helplessly as the data destroyed themselves, leaving behind only error warnings and corrupted bits. The truth passed through his fingers like smoke.

The sample chamber cracked.

Ethereon escaped into the atmosphere, its violet radiance intensifying. The wave frequency doubled—then tripled.

It wasn't simply about clandestine research anymore.

The Council had not only covered up unsuccessful trials; they had hidden proof of a recurrent tragedy.

And now, whatever evil they'd managed to control was erupting again.

A WARNING IGNORED

Elias ran through the Council's clean, white hallways, his steps resonating off the marble floors. Each step took him further into what he felt was deception.

The heavy override module in his pocket, which served as proof that he had broken the law, pressed against his thigh like a constant reminder of his actions.

As the afternoon light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, he discovered Seraphine in her office. 

Her silver hair created an almost ethereal halo, which suddenly appeared more serpentine than angelic.

"The Ethereon trials—they're showing the same frequency patterns as Project Twin Dimensions." 

The words hurt his throat like broken glass as they scratched his voice. "Could you please explain why I wasn't informed about the death rates? Seraphine, we've worked together for years."

Seraphine stopped her fingers on her hologram screen, and the blue light cast harsh shadows over her perfectly calm face. 

She looked at him with cold, steel-blue eyes that didn't have the love he used to feel.

"Doctor Astren, you're venturing into classified territory." The official use of his title stung like a slap.

"Seraphine, people have died. The death rate is ninety-nine percent." He couldn't help but clench his hands, the white spots on his fingers revealing the depth of his anger.

As she got up from her desk, her white council robes flowed like liquid mercury, which was very different from how dark his thoughts were getting.

"Some information is not meant to be shared with the public. You are aware that dimensional study is a highly sensitive field. We've already talked about this."

"Delicate?" He could sense the taste of ash in his mouth as he spoke. "The sample just got out of the containment area." The same patterns keep showing up. "The project needs to end before—"

"Before what, exactly?" Her voice pierced the skin with its coldness. "Your credentials grant you access to approved research parameters. They do not grant access to any other information."

 She moved closer, and the strong scent of her perfume, which smelled like winter frost, made him feel like he could suffocate.

"It was for a good reason that the Council buried Ethereon's past. Elias, some doors should stay shut. You should know that more than anyone else."

"People deserve to know the truth." His voice was shaking because of how strongly he felt.

"Truth?" An icy smile played on her lips, turning her friendly face into something strange and scary. 

"Elias, put this study on hold. For your own good." He felt like he was getting hit in the gut with every word.

It was impossible not to hear the danger in her voice, which rang with years of hidden secrets.

Elias walked back toward the door. He couldn't stop thinking about all the options and links he hadn't been able to see before. Every rejection and evasion made him more sure of what he already thought. 

The Council knew exactly what was going on, but they were letting it happen again and again, like a well-planned ensemble symphony of death.

Professor Oris likely knew what was happening. Before leaving for unknown reasons, his old mentor had worked on the first Ethereon projects. Those reasons seemed much darker now than they had before. 

He was the only one who could bring light into this darkness.

When Elias's fingers touched the override module again, they felt stronger because it was there. In his search for the truth, he had already crossed one line today. What was one more?