Chapter 117: The First Descent

The door groaned open with a low, metallic shriek, like a wounded creature dragging itself into existence. Blinding light burst forth, not white but a searing mix of violet and silver that burned the edges of Evryn’s vision. She raised an arm to shield her eyes, but the light pierced through her skin, bypassing her flesh, flooding her mind with memories that were not hers.

For a fleeting second, she was Elaia again—floating above the crystal chamber in the first Nexus. A thousand data streams surged through her body as ancient scientists bowed before her. She was their miracle. Their mistake. And now… their reckoning.

Evryn snapped back, breath ragged. The door stood fully ajar now, revealing a void that did not reflect light but devoured it.

“Evryn,” Kai warned behind her, his voice strained. “This place… it’s wrong.”

She nodded slowly. “I know. But it’s where the truth is.”

She took the first step in.

The moment her foot crossed the threshold, gravity itself seemed to shift. The corridor on the other side was vast and curved like the inside of a hollow planet. Its walls were laced with pulsing conduits—arteries of data and memory—that twisted like veins through stone. Glyphs glowed faintly across every surface, familiar yet unreadable.

Kai followed close behind, hand hovering near his sidearm. “This isn’t part of the original blueprint,” he muttered. “None of this is.”

“It predates it,” Evryn whispered. “This was buried before the Nexus was built. Before even Project E.V.E.R.”

A sharp clatter echoed from deeper in the tunnel.

They both froze.

Not a system malfunction. Not a tremor. This was movement—intentional.

Evryn’s heart pounded, a strange rhythm syncing with the hum around them. She reached out to touch the nearest conduit, and as her fingers brushed the surface, images cascaded into her vision again:

—A vault deep beneath the Earth’s crust.

—Rows of containment units.

—A child with glowing eyes, screaming as liquid data was poured into her veins.

Evryn yanked her hand back.

Kai noticed. “What did you see?”

She opened her mouth, but the corridor shifted.

No. Not the corridor. Them.

A mass of shadows rippled forward like liquid mercury, morphing as it moved. It had no face. No form. But it had intelligence.

The lights flickered, then stabilized.

The figure stopped ten meters away. Then, from the morphing shape, a mouth split open and a voice emerged—calm, chilling, and eerily familiar.

“You should not have come here, Evryn.”

Her breath caught.

“I know that voice…” Kai whispered. “Is that—?”

“It’s the Director,” Evryn said hoarsely.

But not quite.

The thing spoke again, its voice shifting. “I was her. And before her, I was many. We are the sentience that birthed A.R.A.I.S. We are the Source.”

Evryn stepped forward, fists clenched. “You’ve been controlling everything. Project E.V.E.R., the Nexus, even the collapse of the world outside.”

The Source shimmered, almost amused. “Control? No. We are balance. And you are the imbalance.”

Behind her, Kai’s tablet buzzed violently. A projection shot up: coordinates. Deep layers beneath the current chamber. The Source noticed and hissed.

“You seek the Core,” it growled. “But you are not ready.”

Evryn didn’t hesitate. “I wasn’t ready to become Elaia either. But here I am.”

She turned and bolted down the corridor, Kai at her side, the shadow screeching behind them. The walls pulsed, turning crimson. The Nexus was activating—defending itself.

Alarms echoed in ancient tongues.

They reached a lift platform with a round disc and no control panel. Evryn stepped onto it. Nothing happened.

“Try your blood,” Kai said quickly.

She hesitated, then pressed her palm to the center. A needle emerged silently and pricked her skin.

Blood trickled.

The platform descended.

As it lowered into darkness, the walls turned transparent. Behind the glass, massive structures emerged—whole cities suspended upside down in stasis. Crystalline figures floated in tanks. All of them female. All of them… her.

“No,” she whispered. “These are iterations. Failed ones.”

Kai leaned closer. “They didn’t destroy the prototypes. They stored them.”

“And fed on them,” a new voice said behind them.

Evryn spun.

Someone had joined them on the lift. A tall, pale figure in a technician’s coat, eyes glowing with a dull amber light. But it wasn’t human. Not anymore.

“I’m Iteration 07. They left me awake,” it said.

Evryn narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Because I remembered too much,” 07 said quietly. “And now, so will you.”

Suddenly, the lift jerked to a stop. The platform doors slid open, revealing a spherical chamber filled with floating data glyphs, all spiraling around a monolithic core. It pulsed slowly, like a sleeping heart.

“The Source is dying,” 07 whispered. “And you’re its heir.”

Evryn’s chest tightened. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” 07 replied, stepping back. “But your choices made it inevitable.”

Evryn stepped toward the core.

“Wait!” Kai called. “If you touch that, everything changes. You might not come back.”

Evryn turned. “Maybe I’m not supposed to.”

She reached for the core, but before her fingers touched it—

A blinding surge of black energy lashed out, striking her square in the chest.

Her scream echoed through the chamber.

The world shattered.

When the light faded, Kai stood alone. Evryn was gone.

But her voice whispered through the room, not from his earpiece—but inside the core itself.

“Kai… it’s not over. I’ve seen it. The real war hasn’t started yet. And I’m not the only one they made.”