Leaving the Primary Anchor room felt wrong.
Like crossing a threshold we shouldn't cross,
like stepping away from Elliot when every part of me
wanted to curl up on that cold floor
and wait for him to walk back in.
Rowan kept glancing back at the bedframe—
at Elliot's carved warning—
like the words were pulling him back into that empty room.
Chandler finally tugged him gently by the elbow.
"Rowan.
Eyes forward."
Rowan blinked hard, tears still clinging to his lashes.
"R-Right… I… I'm coming…"
Horace stayed close to my left side, his hand hovering near my back
as if he expected my legs to give out again.
Lucian walked ahead, tablet raised—
but even he kept looking over his shoulder,
as if he expected the recording to somehow follow us.
Sev clung to me with both hands now,
pressing his forehead against my arm like a frightened child.
Len followed us on his knees until I coaxed him up.
He hesitated, trembling, before obeying the softest touch of my fingers.
Both subjects moved like shadows.
Silent.
Terrified.
Pressing close to me and recoiling from anything else.
Almost like they expected someone to drag them back inside that room
the moment they let me go.
THE CORRIDOR CHANGES
Once we were back in the hallway, the lights flickered—
once…
twice…
Then shifted.
Not dimmer.
Not brighter.
Colder.
Lucian stopped immediately.
"Oh no."
Chandler stiffened.
"Why do you keep saying that?"
Lucian turned the tablet for us to see.
The map shifted.
B6: OPERATIONAL
B7: AWAKE
Rowan choked on his breath.
"A-Awake? What does that mean?"
Lucian hesitated.
Horace didn't wait.
"Lucian.
Speak plainly."
Lucian exhaled.
"It means B7 isn't offline.
The systems below us are… responding."
Chandler scowled.
"To what?"
Lucian looked directly at me.
"Elleanore."
My stomach tightened.
Rowan grabbed my sleeve, trying to steady his voice.
"W…why her?"
Lucian tapped the map.
"Her pheromone signature matches Elliot's so closely
that the system thinks she's returning."
Chandler muttered darkly:
"So B7 is opening its arms.
Creepy."
Rowan shivered violently.
Horace's hand brushed my back, grounding me.
But Sev—
Sev's reaction was immediate.
He dropped to the floor so fast it startled all of us.
He curled into a tight ball, hands over his ears.
Shaking.
Whimpering.
"No…
no go…
no go…
Elle… no…"
Len immediately mirrored him—
but instead of curling inward,
he moved to block my path,
kneeling with both hands raised in a pleading gesture.
"…no…
Elle… no B7…"
Their fear was so strong
I felt it in my own bones.
Rowan whispered, horrified:
"They're terrified.
They don't want her to go down there."
Chandler kneeled beside Sev.
"Hey—hey—
Look at me—"
He tried to coax Sev to lift his head.
But Sev kept shaking harder,
whimpering something unintelligible
that sounded like a memory trying to claw its way out.
Len kept repeating softly:
"No Elle…
no Elle…
no Elle…"
Lucian paled.
"He remembers B7."
Rowan trembled.
"S-Sev… what happened there…?"
Sev finally choked out a word.
A single, trembling word that made the hallway feel colder.
"…hurts…"
Rowan covered his mouth.
Lucian whispered:
"They weren't just conditioned.
They were punished."
Chandler slammed his palm against the floor in anger.
"Damn them—"
Horace stepped forward.
"We're still going."
Rowan whipped around.
"What?! Horace, did you SEE Elliot's recording? Did you SEE what they—"
"I saw it."
Horace's voice stayed level.
"And that's exactly why we're going."
Chandler stood, expression hardening.
"I agree."
Rowan flinched.
"How can you—?"
"Because Elliot lived," Chandler said quietly.
"And he was taken to B7.
And Elleanore's the only one who can open what's below."
Lucian nodded.
"Rowan…
if we stop here,
we fail him."
Rowan shook.
"But…
Elle…"
I took his hand gently.
"Rowan.
Elliot asked me not to come."
Rowan's eyes filled again.
"Then—then why—"
"Because he wasn't asking me to save him."
I whispered.
"He was asking me to survive."
Rowan choked.
Lucian nodded.
"And now, to survive,
we have to keep going."
Sev finally lifted his head.
Tear streaked.
Terrified.
He reached for me weakly.
"…Elle…
stay…"
Rowan bit his lip as tears fell again.
"Elle…
what do we do…? They're warning us… these subjects… they REMEMBER—"
I touched Sev's head gently.
"I know.
I know you're scared."
He whimpered and leaned into my hand.
I looked back at the sealed door.
Then at the corridor.
Then at Lucian.
"How do we get there?"
Lucian swallowed.
"…Follow the resonance trail."
Horace stepped close.
"Stay close to me."
Chandler nodded.
"And between us, no one touches you."
Rowan took my hand again.
"I'm… I'm not leaving you…"
Sev shakily rose to his feet,
leaning heavily into my side.
Len followed, walking stiffly,
but keeping one hand on the wall as if the floor itself frightened him.
We moved.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Toward the end of the hallway.
Where a long set of reinforced doors waited.
Lucian stopped in front of them.
"This is it."
Rowan whispered:
"B7."
Chandler cracked his knuckles.
"Let's get this over with."
Horace tightened his stance.
Sev hid behind my shoulder.
Len knelt by my feet, breathing hard.
Lucian raised the tablet.
"Elleanore…
when you put your hand here,
the doors will open."
I placed my palm on the scanner.
The system hummed.
Lights turned blood-red.
A chilling voice echoed through the hall:
PRIMARY SUBJECT DETECTED
RESPONSIVE UNITS WAKING
B7 ACCESS GRANTED
Rowan's heart skipped.
Chandler muttered:
"That's terrifying."
Horace braced himself.
Lucian whispered:
"Elleanore…
whatever's waiting on B7—
it's expecting him.
Not you."
I took a shaking breath.
"I know."
The door slid open.
Cold, sterile air rushed out—
and faint, distant footsteps echoed from the darkness below.
Sev grabbed my hand.
Len grabbed my sleeve.
Rowan held onto me.
Chandler and Horace stepped forward—
and Lucian whispered the final warning:
"Once we step into B7…
we can't go back."
The Floor That Listens
The moment we stepped through the doors of B7,
the world changed.
The air wasn't just cold.
It bit.
A sterile, chemical chill that burned the lungs on inhale
and left a metallic taste on the tongue.
Rowan stumbled back instinctively.
"God… why is it—
why does it feel like this floor hates us…?"
Lucian lowered his tablet, his face drawing in tight.
"Because this floor isn't meant for visitors.
B7 was designed for containment…
and reconditioning."
Chandler snorted bitterly.
"In other words—torture level."
Len whimpered and pressed his back against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around himself.
His bound hands trembled uncontrollably.
Sev crouched immediately—
not out of fear of an immediate threat,
but out of instinctive submission.
He shut his eyes tightly and whispered:
"…Elle…
go…"
Rowan's voice cracked.
"He wants you to run.
Sev—Sev, she can't—"
Chandler stepped closer, voice sharp.
"Everyone stop panicking and breathe."
Horace glanced at all of us and took control again.
"Elleanore stays in the center.
Rowan behind her.
Chandler front right.
I'll take front left.
Lucian scans ahead."
Lucian nodded.
"And Sev and Len—"
But Sev flinched violently at Lucian's voice.
Len crumpled to the floor, breathing fast, whispering something over and over.
At first it was too soft to hear.
Then we all heard it:
"…hurts…
hurts…
hurts…"
Rowan's eyes widened.
"Len…?
What hurts…?"
Len pointed at the floor.
At the tiles.
At the air vents.
At the ceiling.
At everything.
Lucian paled.
"He remembers the conditioning stimuli."
Chandler frowned.
"Explain."
Lucian inhaled deeply.
"B7 was where they tested pain-response conditioning.
Not physical pain—
instinctive pain.
They used pheromone suppression pulses, oxygen dips, resonance frequency shockwaves—"
Rowan covered his ears.
"Stop—stop—stop—"
Horace placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Rowan.
Look at me."
Rowan opened tear-filled eyes.
"We can't break now," Horace told him gently.
"Elleanore needs all of us."
Rowan nodded shakily and moved closer to me.
I took his hand.
"Thank you."
He squeezed tightly.
"…always."
THE HALLWAY OF MIRRORS
B7's first corridor was long—
so long it seemed to bend and warp at the end.
And the walls—
were lined with glass.
At first, I thought they were empty observation windows.
But when we walked closer,
the truth revealed itself like a nightmare pulled into focus.
Rowan gasped.
Lucian swore.
Chandler stepped between me and the glass immediately.
And Horace froze.
Inside the rooms—
were chairs.
Dozens of chairs.
All facing toward the glass.
Metal harnesses still attached.
Each chair positioned at the exact angle to watch whoever walked by.
Rowan choked out:
"They… sat them here…
so they had to watch the others get taken…"
Lucian nodded, swallowing hard.
"Yes.
It was part of breaking their resistance."
Sev began shaking so violently I crouched and held him.
"It's okay—
Sev—
you're not there anymore—"
He grabbed my wrist and held on like he was drowning.
Len crawled closer, pressing against my knee, echoing Sev's fear.
Chandler turned away sharply.
"Caliban deserves to rot."
Horace's jaw tightened.
"He will."
Lucian cleared his throat and pointed ahead.
"We have to keep moving.
The system is tracking our heat signatures."
Rowan blinked.
"Heat signatures? Why?"
Lucian didn't answer immediately.
He stared at the glowing red dots on his tablet.
Then whispered:
"…because something ahead is moving toward us."
Chandler's posture shifted instantly.
"What kind of something?"
Lucian studied the pattern.
"It's not shaped like a guard.
Or a drone."
He swallowed.
"It's humanoid."
Rowan gasped.
Sev jerked closer.
Len buried his face in my thigh.
Horace stepped in front of me.
"Elleanore.
Stay behind me."
I nodded.
But the footsteps approaching weren't heavy.
They were slow.
Uneven.
Dragging.
Not a threat approaching—
A survivor.
Or something pretending to be.
THE BOY AT THE END OF THE HALL
A figure appeared in the distance.
Small.
Barefoot.
Thin.
Limbs shaking as it walked.
Chandler squinted.
"Another echo subject?"
Lucian adjusted the tablet.
"No.
The height is wrong.
This one is… younger."
Rowan's eyes widened.
"A child…?"
Horace stiffened.
"Elleanore—stay behind me."
But Sev suddenly stood.
Len too.
Both subjects straightened—
not protectively,
but fearfully.
They knelt.
Together.
Facing the small figure.
Rowan's voice trembled.
"T-They're bowing—
why are they bowing—?"
Lucian's breath hitched.
"Oh god."
Chandler frowned.
"What?"
Lucian pointed at the approaching shape.
"That's not an echo."
Rowan tugged my sleeve tightly.
"Elle—
Elle something is wrong—"
Lucian finished:
"That child…
is one of the original test cohort."
Chandler's heart dropped.
Horace's eyes widened.
Rowan's grip on me tightened.
And I—
I couldn't breathe.
The child walked closer.
Closer.
Close enough that I could see—
pale skin,
bony hands,
a heavy metal collar around his neck
with cords trailing behind him like broken chains.
He stopped ten feet away.
Looked up at me with wide, unfocused eyes.
And whispered—
not Sev's voice.
Not Len's.
A tiny, fragile voice:
"…Elle…?"
Rowan crumpled to the floor.
Chandler grabbed him before he hit the ground.
Horace looked between the child and me, horrified.
Lucian stared at the collar.
"That's…
a Phase Zero collar."
Rowan whispered:
"Phase… Zero…?
What does that mean…?"
Lucian's voice shook.
"It means…
he was part of the very first experiment.
Before Sev.
Before Len.
Before Elliot."
My stomach clenched painfully.
The child took a step forward, wobbling.
Sev whimpered.
Len pressed his hands to the floor in a full kneel.
The child reached out to me with trembling fingers.
And said something that shattered the room:
"…Elle… you came back…"
Horace froze.
Chandler lifted his head sharply.
Rowan's breath broke.
Lucian went pale.
I whispered:
"Back…?
To where…?"
The child blinked slowly.
Then smiled
with a softness that didn't belong on this floor.
"…we waited…
for you…"
Rowan's hand flew to his mouth.
Chandler whispered:
"…Elle…
they weren't conditioned to Elliot."
Horace's breath trembled.
"They were conditioned to her."
Lucian whispered the truth:
"That child doesn't think you're Elleanore."
My heart pounded.
"He thinks I'm…"
Lucian nodded slowly.
"…someone who was here
before Elliot
kept them alive
and then
vanished."
Chandler whispered sharply:
"Elle—
they've been waiting for their original anchor."
Rowan whispered:
"You're not just Elliot's match—
you're the match for the cohort before him."
Horace murmured:
"Elleanore…
this floor…
was built around you."
The child stepped closer.
Reached.
And whispered:
"…Elle…
why did you leave us…?"