Episode 22: Echoes of the Past
The wind in Lairen was… wrong.
It wasn't just cold — it whistled, like it remembered screams. The fog hugged the ruins of the once-bustling town, wrapping every burnt building and broken lamp post in ghostly silence.
Tunde stepped off the jet ramp and immediately shivered. "Okay. So, this place feels like someone took a haunted house and gave it Wi-Fi."
Sophia scanned the area with her drone pad. "There's a frequency pulse here — residual. Not active. But it was recently used."
Zahara stepped out last, eyes scanning the charred remains of what had once been her childhood street.
"This is where I lived," she whispered. "Before the fire. Before… everything."
Martins gently took her hand. "We'll figure this out. Together."
Tunde pulled out a comically large taser. "Cool. While you do that, I'll be ghost-hunting. And by ghost-hunting, I mean aggressively zapping anything that moves and isn't on our payroll."
"Seriously?" Sophia said flatly. "That thing could knock out a cow."
"Exactly. And I'm not taking chances with haunted cyborg chickens."
---
They split into two groups — Martins and Zahara heading toward what used to be a government outpost; Sophia and Tunde toward the underground sector.
The outpost was mostly rubble, but Martins found a reinforced bunker door.
"Think you can open it?" Zahara asked.
Martins smirked. "I've opened tougher."
"Please don't say that like it's a pickup line."
He grinned. "It worked last time."
She blushed, pretending to roll her eyes. "Fine. Do your thing, hero."
He activated a holographic bypass and within seconds, the bunker hissed open. The smell of dust, metal, and old secrets hit them instantly.
Inside: screens, wires, old data pads, and one glowing containment pod — empty.
Martins approached it slowly. "Whatever was in here… it left recently."
Zahara touched the pod.
Suddenly—
A shock.
A vision.
Flashes.
Another girl. Eyes like hers. Same features. But not her. The girl screamed as scientists ran tests, injected something black into her veins. Her name—
"Nyra…" Zahara whispered.
Martins steadied her. "You okay?"
"I'm not the only one," she breathed. "There was another prototype. Like me. Maybe more."
---
Meanwhile, underground…
Tunde and Sophia moved through rusted corridors.
"Why do I feel like we're in a rejected scene from a horror movie?" Tunde muttered.
"Because we are," Sophia replied, gun drawn.
Tunde stopped. "Did you hear that?"
Sophia nodded. "Yeah. Breathing. But not ours."
Suddenly, lights flickered. A figure darted across the hallway.
Tunde shouted. "Okay! That's enough paranormal cardio for one day!"
Sophia raised her blaster. "Wait… don't shoot."
The figure stepped into the light.
Young. About 15. Bald. Glowing veins across her neck.
Terrified.
"I'm not going back," she said.
Sophia lowered her weapon. "You're safe. What's your name?"
"…Xyra," she whispered.
Tunde blinked. "Xyra? Zahara? That's… alphabetically suspicious."
Sophia knelt down. "Do you know Zahara?"
"She was the first. I'm the last."
---
Back above, Zahara stared at a screen. It displayed one haunting phrase:
> 'PROJECT: PULSE — Subject Alpha: Zahara. Subject Omega: Xyra.'
And beneath it… a countdown.
Time remaining: 72 hours.