Chapter 2 — Echo Cradle
The next day, the air in Ridgepoint felt heavier.
Jett sat in the back of his uncle's shop, hands stained with oil, pretending to work on an old radio while his mind replayed the night over and over. The drones, the glowing panel, the voice from the console, and most of all—Noah's sudden outburst of light. None of it made sense.
His tablet buzzed with a coded message from Lena:
MEET. SUNSET. SAME SPOT.
The others had to be thinking the same thing: Echo Cradle wasn't just a buried lab. It was alive. Awake.
And waiting.
That evening, they gathered again at the forest's edge. The woods, once familiar, now felt like the veil between worlds.
No one spoke much on the way in. Aya kept glancing over her shoulder, like she could feel someone—or something—watching. Lena walked up front, fists clenched, jaw tight. Noah was quiet, his hoodie drawn low over his eyes. Jett carried a toolbox and a coil of copper wire.
When they reached the hatch, it was already open.
"Wasn't me," Jett said, kneeling beside it. "No signs of forced entry either."
"Then someone—or something—left it open," Lena replied.
They descended again into the steel-boned corridors, the silence more oppressive this time. The hum of low energy resonated through the walls like a nervous heartbeat.
They followed the same path as before, passing the flickering wall panels and disabled drones—now strangely absent from the hall.
Aya touched a scorched spot on the ground. "We fought them here."
"Yeah, but now it's like they cleaned up after us," Noah muttered.
"Which means they're still operational," Jett said. "And watching."
They reached the central chamber again. This time, it was brighter. The main console was lit, its screens pulsing with a deep cerulean glow. The five-ring glyph shimmered on every display.
Lena stepped forward, hesitated, then reached out.
As soon as her hand brushed the console, the screens flickered and rearranged into new data patterns. Her breath caught.
"It recognizes you," Aya whispered.
Text scrolled across the central panel:
USER: LENA KOVÁRI — ACCESS LEVEL: ECHO ONE
"Echo One?" Noah echoed.
The chamber lights flared—and the floor beneath them shuddered.
With a hiss, a section of the far wall slid open, revealing a hidden corridor previously masked by projection. Cold air swept in, tinged with ozone.
"We're being invited in," Jett said.
"That doesn't make it a good idea," Lena replied.
But they walked in anyway.
The corridor sloped downward, spiraling deeper into the earth. Lights activated just ahead of their steps, illuminating steel walls etched with glowing veins—like circuitry buried in bone.
Jett paused at a console near a sealed door. "Encrypted interface," he muttered. "This is old—pre-quantum, but way beyond current tech."
"Can you break it?" Lena asked.
He smirked. "Eventually."
While he worked, Aya drifted toward a nearby alcove. Inside, she found a circular chamber with a translucent display hovering above a central pedestal. As she stepped closer, the display flared to life, showing images—blurred, flickering scenes: four children laughing near a strange monument. A woman in a lab coat, her eyes tired but warm. Then the children again, older. And then… darkness.
Aya gasped as a word appeared: SUBJECT ECHO-3
"Guys…" she called out, voice trembling.
They hurried in. The display shifted again, showing schematics—DNA sequences, neural maps, and a label:
PROJECT: ECHO CRADLE — GENETIC ENHANCEMENT TRIAL
Lena stared at the screen. "This was a human experiment."
"On kids," Noah whispered.
More files cascaded past the screen:
ECHO-1: LENA KOVÁRI
ECHO-2: NOAH VELASCO
ECHO-3: AYA REED
ECHO-4: JETT WU
They stood in silence, the weight of it hitting all at once.
"No," Lena said. "This can't be right."
Aya backed away, hand over her mouth. "But… the dreams. I keep seeing this place. Like I've been here before."
Noah's fingers curled into fists. "They did something to us. Our powers. Our memories. It started here."
The door Jett had been working on hissed open behind them.
Beyond it lay a vast circular chamber. The ceiling was a dome of transparent material showing stone and roots above. In the center, a crystalline structure floated midair, suspended in invisible magnetic fields. Pulsing softly with blue and violet light.
"The Core," Jett breathed. "This is the power source."
As they approached, the crystal reacted—sending gentle pulses of light toward each of them. As if scanning. Then a deep voice filled the chamber.
"Protocol acknowledged. Echo Subjects active. Initial synchronization: 72%. Awaiting commands."
The voice wasn't human. Nor entirely artificial. It had resonance, as if memory itself had learned to speak.
"What do you want from us?" Lena asked aloud.
A moment of silence. Then—
"To remember."
Then the drones came.
Sleeker, faster than before, they swarmed from vents and shadowed recesses. The team scattered.
Jett hurled his copper wire spool across a corridor junction, triggering a magnetic trap. Three drones collapsed in sparks.
Noah flared with light again—this time deliberately—his shield stronger, crackling with energy.
Lena grabbed a fallen pipe and swung with brutal precision.
Aya raised both hands, and for the first time, sound warped around her—distorting the air, sending two drones spinning away in confusion.
Then, as quickly as it began, it stopped.
The drones froze mid-air. Powered down. Dropped like stones.
The crystal pulsed again, slower now.
"Synchronization complete," the voice said. "Memory locks… unstable. Integrity: decaying. Protect the core."
Then all the chamber lights dimmed.
And deep in the structure, something stirred—darker, colder.
"I think we woke up more than just our memories," Jett said.
Lena nodded grimly. "Echo Cradle isn't just a lab. It's a fuse box. And we just lit the match."
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