Veiss lay slumped against the base of the control platform, the last of his strength bleeding into the cold metal beneath him. His lab coat, once pristine, was torn and stained—scorched from the blast, streaked with ghostly residue. His breath came in short, rattling gasps.

Jarek knelt at his side, one knee on the floor, his expression unreadable. The others hovered behind—wary, worn, waiting. Even the flickering lights above seemed to dim in respect.

“He’s alive,” Jarek said quietly. “Barely.”

Veiss’s eyelids fluttered open. Pale irises trembled. His voice, when it came, was a whisper rasped from a failing body.

“You’re still here,” he muttered. “Good.”

Brinn crossed his arms tightly, his gaze lingering on the floor beside the doctor. “You’re lucky we didn’t leave you behind.”

“No,” Veiss coughed, a sick, wet sound. “I’m not.”

Sai stood off to the side, arms folded in his cloak, eyes sharp beneath his hood. His gaze didn’t move from the doctor’s face.

“What were those things?” Jarek asked. “The ghosts.”

Veiss exhaled, the breath shaking. “I don’t know. Not fully. We called them... shades. Not machines. Not alive. Just... remnants. Memory made flesh.”

Pepe hovered down beside them, his lights dimmed out of respect. “Vital signs: crumbling. Brain activity: still impressive for someone full of ghost juice.”

Veiss let out a strangled laugh. “You’re... charming.”

“Don’t get sentimental,” Jarek muttered, but his voice softened.

“They weren’t ours,” Veiss whispered. “They were found… deeper. Sealed in chambers older than the structure itself. Beneath this entire facility—beneath Ashalara.”

He winced, pain rolling through him like a tide. Jarek steadied him gently.

“We drew power from the seals,” Veiss went on. “Only a fraction. Just enough to power the AI systems. The Weavers were obsessed with conserving energy. I just wanted… wanted to learn.”

“And the doors?” Sai asked.

“Meant to stay closed,” Veiss said. “Always. The seals were old tech—but mixed with something else. Something... biological. Or psychic. I don’t know. They weren’t just holding creatures in place. They were holding concepts. Hunger. Madness. Time.”

The words sent a cold shiver down Brinn’s spine. He took a slow step forward, fire dimming on his palms.

Ramm leaned against a pillar, arms crossed. “So, evil sci-fi ghosts wrapped in metaphysical trauma. Awesome.”

“Not evil,” Veiss corrected hoarsely. “Indifferent. Indifference is worse. It doesn’t care about your will or resistance. It erases it.”

Pepe’s light flickered. “So… cosmic nihilist ghosts. Even better.”

Veiss wheezed a chuckle. “We thought we could contain them. Use them. But the ghosts… they weren’t tools. They were warnings.”

The team fell silent.

A subtle tremor ran through the floor—barely noticeable, but it made Sai’s head tilt. His senses were always attuned to things others couldn’t perceive.

Brinn stepped closer, voice low. “Why did the doors open? Why now?”

Veiss’s breathing hitched. His hand trembled as he pointed weakly toward the larger gates. “They had watchers here. Weaver agents. Hidden in my staff. One of them must have triggered it. I wasn’t supposed to know.”

Sai’s eyes narrowed. “You were compromised.”

“I was expendable,” Veiss corrected. “Too curious. Too independent.”

Jarek leaned in. “Then what’s the Weavers’ real plan?”

Veiss’s gaze focused again—sharper now, like clarity was bought with the last of his strength.

“They’re not just after domination. Not anymore. They believe free will is a glitch in the system. That individuality breeds collapse. They’re rewriting the algorithm of life.”

Pepe tilted forward, scanning. “Philosophy upgrade detected. That’s… alarming.”

“They want every voice under one signal,” Veiss rasped. “One Hive. A living machine of obedience.”

Brinn’s jaw tightened. “And the ghosts?”

“They’re just part of it. Power sources. Fear weapons. Whatever the Weavers can harness, they will.”

Ramm stepped forward, suddenly serious. “How many places like this?”

Veiss hesitated.

“Eight known,” he said. “Maybe more. Hidden vaults. Each connected to a different… anomaly. This was the easiest to tap into.”

Jarek’s brow furrowed. “And the others?”

“Worse,” Veiss whispered. “This one was the stable one.”

That quieted everyone.

Another tremor—slightly stronger this time.

Pepe hovered lower. “Guys. Something’s stirring.”

Veiss reached for Jarek, hand shaking. “They wanted to use the ghosts as a failsafe. To collapse resistance from within. Turn the vaults into extinction engines. If you hadn’t stopped the entity that bonded with me...”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

Jarek nodded. “We’re not done.”

“I thought I could help,” Veiss said, almost inaudible now. “Thought I could... use their machines to stop them. But I was always one step behind.”

“You slowed them down,” Jarek said. “That matters.”

Veiss chuckled. “Then hurry. Because they won’t stop. The next vault might not wait for visitors.”

His breath began to shallow. His head sagged against the wall.

“Veiss—” Jarek leaned in.

“Don’t let them win,” Veiss murmured. “Burn it all if you have to.”

His eyes lost focus. The fear faded. His mouth parted slightly, as if to say one more thing.

But no words came.

He went still.

Not defiant. Not peaceful.

Just... tired.

Jarek gently closed his eyes.

Pepe scanned and confirmed, “Flatline. Brainwave gone. No signs of consciousness.”

A silence fell across the room.

Then, softly, Ramm said, “He was annoying. But he was smart.”

“He was both,” Sai added, his voice quieter than usual. “That’s why he scared them.”

Brinn stood beside the others, fists clenched. “And that’s why we can’t fail.”

They stood in the dim chamber—surrounded by broken lights, malfunctioning consoles, and ancient systems still pulsing beneath their feet.

Somewhere far below, something stirred again.

Jarek rose slowly, turning toward the hall beyond. The heavy doors remained closed—but not for long. They all knew what had to be done next, even if the path ahead was uncertain and filled with dangers they couldn’t yet imagine.

He glanced back at the still figure of Veiss, the scientist who had become an unwilling ally in his final moments.

“We won’t let your sacrifice go to waste,” Jarek whispered softly.

Then he looked toward the others—Brinn’s fiery resolve, Sai’s steady silence, Ramm’s restless determination, and even Pepe’s hovering presence, strangely reassuring in its chaos.

“Come on,” Jarek said firmly. “We’ve got work to do.”

And together, they moved deeper into the heart of darkness.