Clyde's eyes snapped open, his breath shallow and erratic. The world around him was an endless blur of shifting shadows, a strange combination of fractured images and distorted shapes. His mind was foggy, as if waking from a dream, but the lingering sense of dread wouldn't let him shake the feeling that everything was wrong.
The woman's words echoed in his mind again, sharp and unyielding: "You must decide."
But decide what?
The fractured images around him were like broken memories piecing themselves together in slow motion. He could see the gleam of steel, the whirring of machines, and the distant echo of his own voice—a conversation he didn't remember. His heart pounded in his chest, and a cold sweat broke out across his skin. His surroundings began to solidify, becoming clearer with every passing second. He was in some kind of lab, a sterile environment that felt suffocating.
He pushed himself to his feet, his muscles aching from the shock of whatever had just happened. The facility around him seemed eerily quiet, but he could still feel the hum of machinery, the low pulse of something alive beneath the surface.
A soft click echoed from the far side of the room. Clyde froze, his heart leaping into his throat. He wasn't alone.
A figure stepped into the room, casting a long shadow against the walls. It was the woman again, but this time, her appearance was different—colder, more mechanical, as if she were part of the very facility she inhabited.
"You're still alive," she said, her voice betraying no emotion. "Surprising."
Clyde's eyes narrowed. "What do you want from me?"
She studied him for a moment, her gaze unwavering. "Nothing. Not anymore. You were the catalyst, Clyde. You were meant to be a tool. But now…" She trailed off, as if considering something.
Clyde clenched his fists, the anger rising within him like a fire. "What do you mean, a tool?"
The woman took a step closer, her eyes flickering like a corrupted signal. "You were never meant to survive the rewrite. You were supposed to be wiped, erased. But you're different. You're still here, fighting. And that makes you dangerous."
A chill ran down his spine. "Dangerous?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes. Because you remember. You've seen the truth. And once the rewrite has been exposed, there's no going back."
Clyde shook his head, his mind reeling. "The rewrite… the truth… What are you talking about?"
Before she could respond, the walls around them began to shift, the lights flickering violently. A loud, mechanical whir filled the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of doors slamming open.
Clyde's eyes widened. "What's happening?"
The woman's expression darkened. "It's too late. The facility is collapsing."
With that, the ground beneath their feet began to tremble violently, shaking so hard that Clyde struggled to keep his balance. The walls cracked, and the hum of machinery grew louder, more frantic.
"We have to go," the woman said, urgency in her voice.
But Clyde didn't move. "I'm not leaving until I know the truth."
The woman hesitated, then gave a slow nod. "Then come with me. There's still one place left where you can find the answers."
Clyde followed her, his mind racing with questions. They sprinted down the corridors of the facility, the walls shaking with every step. They didn't speak as they ran; the sound of their footsteps was drowned out by the deafening noise of the facility's collapse.
The walls closed in on them, narrowing until there was only a single, winding passageway left. The woman led him to the end of it, where a large metal door stood, covered in layers of digital code.
"This is it," she said, voice heavy with meaning. "The heart of the facility. The final truth lies beyond this door."
Clyde's heart hammered in his chest. He didn't know if he was ready for whatever lay behind that door, but he knew one thing for certain: he had to face it.
He reached out and gripped the handle, the cold metal biting into his palm. With one final push, he opened the door.
Beyond it lay the truth.