The screen glowed faintly at first, then sharpened, revealing the face of an older woman. Her features were sharp and precise, framed by dishevelled gray hair that suggested a lifetime spent in deep thought rather than concern for appearances. Thick-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, reflecting the flickering light of the monitor. She wore a stained lab coat, the pockets overflowing with tools and scraps of paper, and her expression was a mix of fascination and frustration.

  “Fascinating,” the woman muttered to herself, seemingly unaware Joel could see or hear her. She adjusted a pair of knobs on a console off-screen, then leaned in closer to the camera, her piercing gaze locking onto Joel.

  “You,” the woman said, her voice tinged with curiosity and a trace of impatience. “You’re the one who’s been disrupting the parameters. I didn’t think anyone would survive this long, let alone adapt so… uniquely.”

  Joel blinked, still clutching the hammer in his trembling hand. “Who are you?”

  The woman frowned slightly, as though annoyed by the interruption, then straightened. “Dr. Maja Carr,” she said, her voice clipped. “Former head of the Integrated Systems Division, though titles seem irrelevant now, don’t they? Let’s just say I’m... observing.”

  “Observing?” Joel echoed, his exhaustion giving way to unease. “Observing what?”

  “Everything,” Dr. Carr replied, her expression turning darkly contemplative. “The system, the anomalies, the changes. And now you. Tell me, did you feel it? That... pulse during your little skirmish? That wasn’t just the system reacting—it was you. You’re altering it, consciously or not.”

  Joel’s grip on the hammer tightened. “What do you mean, ‘altering it’?”

  Dr. Carr leaned forward, her eyes glinting with something between scientific curiosity and outright obsession. “Oh, my dear mechanic, you have no idea what you’ve stumbled into. But don’t worry. I’ll be watching very closely from here. You’re about to become my most interesting experiment yet.”

  The monitor abruptly went dark, leaving Joel staring at his bewildered reflection. Whatever victory he had thought he’d claimed now felt like the opening move in a much larger, more dangerous game. His jaw tightened, and his pulse pounded in his ears as Dr. Carr’s smug dismissal echoed in his mind.

  Without thinking, Joel’s hand shot to his side, gripping the handle of his hammer. The weight was comforting, familiar—unlike the chaos unfolding around him. He raised it high and, with a guttural yell, swung it down onto the console.

  The screen shattered on impact, shards of glass flying in all directions. Sparks burst from the twisted remains of the console, the acrid smell of burning circuits filling the air. He didn’t stop there. Blow after blow rained down, the hammer reducing the equipment to a heap of mangled metal and cracked plastic.

  When the dust settled, Joel stood over the wreckage, his shoulders heaving and his grip on the hammer white-knuckled. His chest burned with the effort of his rage, but the emptiness it left behind was colder than the void outside.

  “That’s your move, huh?” Joel muttered under his breath, his voice raw. "Fine. Let’s play."

  He turned away from the destroyed console, its sparking remnants lighting the room with a flickering, eerie glow, and strode toward the exit. The air crackled with the lingering ozone scent of discharged energy, a metallic tang that mingled with the acrid smell of burnt electronics. The flickering light from the console cast long, dancing shadows across the debris-strewn floor, revealing shattered glassware and twisted metal. The silence was broken only by the faint hum of emergency power systems and the rhythmic thud of Joel's boots against the cold, metallic floor. He could feel the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

  The game had just begun, and he wasn’t about to lose. He then forced himself to settle. Letting the rage, fear and other emotions drift out of him with each breath: letting his heart rate settle.

  But the adrenaline was quickly replaced by a chilling dread. Whatever victory he had thought he’d claimed now felt like the opening move in a much larger, more dangerous game. His jaw tightened, and his pulse pounded in his ears as Dr. Carr’s smug dismissal echoed in his mind. "This is just the beginning…," Carr had said, a predatory glint in his eyes. "We've barely scratched the surface."

  Trapped in this dungeon, what felt like half a world away from his husband and daughter, Joel felt a wave of suffocating loneliness. He longed for the warmth of Oliver's arms. Then he paused, he hadn’t even heard his daughter’s voice, the sound of her laughter, or even her cries for the simple comforts of home. He paused momentarily, feeling a tear come to his eyes, before pushing it back down.

  Back down, like many of his feelings. Then the negative thoughts began to pour into him again. He wondered if they were even thinking of him, or if they had simply moved on with their lives, unaware of the danger he faced. The thought was unbearable, and he pushed it away, letting rage cover his pain. He chose to focus on the task at hand: getting out of this death trap and finding a way home.

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  Above him, faint but growing louder, came the muffled sound of Ren’s voice. “Joel? Are you okay down there?”

  Joel tilted his head toward the ceiling, his grip on his hammer still tight. “I’m here,” he called back, voice hoarse.

  The gaping hole in the floor yawned before him, a monstrous maw revealing the dizzying depths above. He was several stories down, Ren and Jace stood silhouetted against the flickering emergency lights, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and determination. It was as if he'd been transported to the sub-sub-sub-basement of some mad scientist's lair, a hidden chamber of horrors where experiments were conducted in the dead of night. Joel half laughed to himself, expecting to hear a wolfman’s howl or to see Frankstien’s monster show up. The air, thick with dust and the metallic tang of ozone, seemed to amplify the echoing silence, making the distant whirring of emergency generators sound like a sinister heartbeat.

  “Thank god,” Jace chimed in, closer to the edge of panic. “We’re going to try to find a stairwell or something to get down to you. Just... hold tight!”

  Joel took a deep breath, forcing some steadiness into his tone. “That’s fine. Do what you can. I’ll... look around.”

  “Be careful, man!” Ren added, her voice carrying a note of desperate reassurance. “We’ll get to you as fast as we can.”

  Joel stepped back from the destroyed console, the room still bathed in the faint flicker of sparking wires. He let out a slow breath, turning his attention to the rest of the lab. It was sterile, and clinical—a far cry from the rugged chaos of his usual work environment.

  He moved carefully, scanning the countertops, drawers, and cabinets. Instruments were lined up neatly, their polished surfaces catching the dim light. He opened a drawer, finding rows of neatly labelled vials and sealed containers, each with labels he didn’t entirely understand: chemical compounds, strange names that hinted at dangerous experimentation.

  His eyes caught on a corner of the room where something metallic gleamed. He approached cautiously, finding a locked cabinet. Joel tested the handle—it wouldn’t budge. He exhaled sharply, then brought his hammer down with precision. The lock gave way with a crack, and the door swung open.

  Inside was a set of devices, sleek and unfamiliar, alongside a thick notebook. The pages were densely packed with diagrams, equations, and notes scrawled in sharp, hurried handwriting.

  "Bingo," Joel muttered, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. He flipped through a few pages, the leather-bound journal feeling surprisingly heavy in his hands. The ink faded with age and spoke of forbidden experiments, of breaching the boundaries of reality itself. Phrases like 'Void Stabilization Protocol' and 'Heart Card Resonance Experimentation' leaped out at him, each one chilling him to the bone. He saw crudely drawn diagrams of impossible machines, intricate webs of symbols that seemed to hum with unseen energy. The journal was a window into a twisted mind, a testament to the hubris of a man, or woman, who had dared to play God.

  He tucked the notebook into his tool bag, sparing the devices a wary glance before deciding against taking them. Too risky. Besides he thought, “I was never good with computers.” He could always tell Jace about them, and come back he thought.

  A sound from the hallway—distant, but distinct—snapped him out of his focus. It was a low, guttural growl, a sound that seemed to slither through the very air, chilling him to the bone. Joel straightened, the hammer held aloft, his heart pounding in his chest like a trapped animal. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. This was no ordinary sound. This was the sound of something ancient, something malevolent, something that should not exist. “Or was it his mind playing tricks on him in the dark,” he thought to himself, hoping.

  “Ren? Jace?” he called out cautiously. Silence answered him.

  His grip tightened on the hammer as he turned toward the source of the sound.

  The faint echo of metal scraping against metal reverberated down the hallway, followed by a soft, irregular tapping. Joel froze, his breath caught in his throat. Whatever was making that sound wasn’t Ren or Jace.

  He edged toward the lab’s doorway, peering into the dimly lit corridor. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, cast by the erratic flicker of overhead lights. The air felt colder out there, carrying a faint, acrid scent that made his stomach twist.

  “Ren? Jace?” he called again, louder this time. Hoping against hope. His voice echoed down the corridor, but the reply was the same—nothing.

  The tapping grew louder, closer, now accompanied by a faint, wet squelching noise. Joel’s knuckles whitened as he adjusted his grip on the hammer. He stepped into the hallway, one cautious footfall at a time, the tool raised, now his weapon, ready. His eyes darted to every corner, every shadow, as he moved toward the sound.

  Suddenly, a loud clang echoed from behind him, back toward the lab. Joel whirled around, heart hammering in his chest, but the doorway was empty.

  “Damn it,” he hissed under his breath, the oppressive silence making him feel like the walls were closing in.

  The sound moved again—this time ahead of him. Joel forced himself to keep walking, his steps measured despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. As he rounded a corner, his stomach dropped. The source of the noise was just visible now: a trail of slick, dark substance smeared across the floor, leading into another room further down the hall.

  Joel hesitated, the hammer in his hand feeling heavier than ever. He didn’t want to follow that trail. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to barricade himself in the lab and wait for Ren and Jace. But he also knew that whatever was happening here wasn’t going to stop on its own.

  Gritting his teeth, Joel crept forward, the faint squelch of his boots on the floor mingling with the noise ahead. When he reached the door where the trail ended, he pressed his back to the wall and took a steadying breath.

  “Okay,” he muttered to himself, tightening his grip. “Let’s see what fresh hell this is.”

  With one swift motion, Joel swung into the room, hammer raised and ready.

  The sight before him made his blood run cold.