The vault shuddered as the mechanical enforcers emerged from the walls, their sleek forms gliding forward with eerie precision. The facility's alarms blared, drowning out everything but the pulsating energy coursing through the cables that ensnared Prometheus.
Cynthia barely had time to react before the floor beneath them lurched violently. A deep, mechanical groan echoed through the structure as if the facility itself was reconfiguring. The walls trembled, the conduits around Prometheus flickering erratically.
Then—the ground gave way.
The team plummeted downward, swallowed by the collapsing floor. The sensation was immediate and brutal—a weightless freefall into absolute darkness. Cynthia barely managed to twist her body midair, catching a glimpse of Lena's scanner spinning wildly in the air beside her.
Somewhere above, Prometheus remained suspended in the vault. But just before Cynthia lost sight of him—he moved.
The fall lasted seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
Then—impact.
Cynthia landed first, rolling to absorb the shock. Lena hit next, followed by Marcus, who groaned as he struggled to push himself up. Adrian crashed down hard, breath knocked from his lungs.
Dust and debris swirled in the dim light of the subterranean chamber they had fallen into. The space was massive—far beneath the mapped sections of the facility. The walls pulsed with faint blue energy, thick cables running along the floor like veins.
Cynthia forced herself upright. "Everyone alive?"
Lena groaned. "Define alive."
Marcus exhaled sharply, rubbing his shoulder. "I've had softer landings."
Adrian's voice was strained. "This… wasn't just a random collapse." He gestured toward the walls. "This place—this level—was meant to be hidden."
Lena's scanner flickered erratically. She frowned, adjusting the settings. "There's something here. A signal. It's weak, fragmented, but it's…" Her breath hitched. "It matches Prometheus."
Cynthia's pulse quickened. "Is he here?"
Lena hesitated. "He's—close. But something's wrong."
A deep hum resonated through the chamber, followed by the click of a security system engaging.
The reinforced door at the far end slid open.
Beyond it, darkness pulsed. And from within, a figure stepped forward.
Prometheus.
But something was different. His movements were too precise, too controlled. The glow in his eyes—once sharp with intelligence—was now cold, unnatural.
Cynthia's stomach twisted. "Prometheus?"
He stopped a few feet away, gaze locking onto them. Silence stretched between them, heavy and unnatural.
Then, in a voice layered with something synthetic, he spoke:
"You should not have come here."