The air still trembled from the collapse.
Dust drifted through the beams of their flashlights, catching the red flicker of alarms that refused to die.
The roar beneath their feet was no longer the hum of dormant machinery — it was heavier, rhythmic. Alive.
They ran, breath ragged, through the half-collapsed tunnel. Metal groaned around them like something exhaling.
"Keep moving!" Mara's voice cut through the noise.
Ava stumbled, one hand pressed to the wall. The vibration wasn't just sound anymore — it throbbed inside her chest, syncing with her heartbeat.
The device in her grip pulsed the same way, blue light flickering like a heartbeat buried deep in the metal.
Arlo grabbed her wrist. "Ava! Snap out of it!"
"I can't—" she gasped, shaking her head. "It's calling me."
The corridor ahead split open with a metallic shriek. Steam hissed from ruptured pipes as the floor plates lit up in lines of red, like veins awakening beneath skin.
Rhea cursed. "It's reinitializing! The whole sector's rebooting itself!"
From the far end of the chamber, faint silhouettes began to crawl from the vents — sleek, skeletal frames of metal and bone fused together, their single red eyes blinking to life.
"Drones," Mara hissed. "Maintenance units—corrupted."
Arlo raised his weapon. "Then we put them back to sleep."
Gunfire tore through the dark as sparks rained from the walls. The air filled with the stench of ozone and metal as bullets struck steel.
Rhea swung her crowbar, smashing through one of the drones as it leapt from the ceiling. Sparks burst across her face.
Ava backed toward the central console—the same one that had greeted her by name. It was glowing brighter now, a vertical column of light forming above it, like a pulse rising from the ground. Her reflection warped in its glow.
Then the voice returned—calm, synthetic, and familiar.
"Subject A.C. — Synchronization at 64%. Core access imminent."
Arlo turned toward her. "What is it doing to you?"
Ava's voice trembled. "It's… connecting."
"Disconnect it!" Rhea yelled, slamming her crowbar into the console.
The moment the metal struck, a shockwave burst through the room. Blue light flared outward, tossing them all to the floor. The drones froze mid-motion, their lights flickering erratically—then collapsed, lifeless.
For a long moment, there was only silence.
Ava stood slowly, the light from the console fading to a soft glow. "It stopped."
Mara stared at her. "No. You stopped it."
Ava's hands trembled. "I didn't mean to—"
Arlo stepped closer, eyes full of questions. "Ava… what are you?"
Before she could answer, the console flared again—this time projecting an image above it. A map. The entire facility network stretched across the continent, glowing like veins under skin. At its center pulsed one massive node:
HAVEN PRIME.
Rhea's eyes widened. "This isn't just one facility."
Mara's voice dropped to a whisper. "It's a system."
Ava stared at the map, realization dawning like a slow horror. "And it's waking up everywhere."
The floor beneath them rumbled again—faint this time, but steady. The pulse of the machine.
Arlo loaded a fresh clip into his rifle. "Then we'd better move before it decides to remember us."
They turned toward the exit, but as the corridor lights flickered back to life, Ava looked once more at the hologram of the map.
For the briefest moment, she saw something move inside the central node—a silhouette watching from within the glow.
And deep in the dark heart of Sector Nine, the hum of Haven's consciousness whispered one word into her mind:
"Welcome back."