The hatch yawned wide, its hinges groaning like something alive.
Cold air wafted upward, carrying a sharp scent—metal, dust, and something older, almost ancient.
Ada crouched first, rifle tight in her grip, eyes adjusting to the dark.
A rusted ladder led downward into silence.
"Cover me," she murmured.
Vega nodded without hesitation, watching the shadows.
As Ada descended, her boots clanked softly against the metal rungs, each echo swallowed by the depth.
The chamber below was vast—larger than any sublevel they'd encountered.
Dim emergency lights flickered in recessed corners, casting long shadows against the concrete walls.
Machinery lay half-buried under fallen debris.
Some terminals still blinked, as if unaware decades had passed.
Vega followed shortly, landing beside Ada with a low thud. "What is this place?" she whispered.
Ada's system pinged: [DEEP STORAGE. MILITARY CLASSIFIED. ACCESS RESTRICTED.]
"A vault," Ada muttered. "But not for supplies."
They moved carefully, steps deliberate.
The silence pressed on them like weight.
As they passed a sealed glass tube, Vega paused. Inside floated a disfigured corpse, half-dissolved in suspension fluid.
The label had long since faded.
Vega turned away. "Whatever they were trying to preserve down here—it failed."
Ada nodded grimly. "Or succeeded, just not how they wanted."
The deeper they moved, the colder it became.
The central corridor led to another locked door, this one sealed with biometric authentication.
Ada stepped forward and laid her palm on the reader.
It blinked red.
"Denying a corpse access. Cute," she said, dryly.
Vega crouched by the console. "I can bypass this. Give me a minute."
While she worked, Ada watched the room, the tension in her shoulders never loosening.
When the lock finally hissed and slid open, a stale breeze met them.
The chamber beyond was cleaner—undisturbed.
A large round table sat in the center, surrounded by terminals and a long-dormant holoprojector.
And in one corner—bunk beds. Untouched.
Vega blinked. "Looks like they prepped this to last."
Ada lowered her rifle slightly. "We'll rest here. Just for a few hours."
They checked the room thoroughly.
No movement.
No signals.
Vega pulled off her gloves with a sigh and sat on the lower bunk, boots still on. "You trust this place?"
Ada sat opposite her, slowly removing her gear. "No. But I trust you to wake me if it tries to kill us."
A faint smile. "Deal."
The silence shifted—no longer threatening, but thick with exhaustion and unspoken questions.
As Ada leaned back, their eyes met.
"You're not what I expected," Vega said quietly.
Ada tilted her head. "Disappointed?"
"Surprised. You're colder than I thought." A pause. "But also warmer."
Ada huffed a laugh. "That's contradictory."
Vega leaned forward slightly, elbows on knees. "So am I."
The light flickered above them, and neither spoke.
But the air between them changed—less soldier, more human.
Just as Vega leaned back, a faint click echoed in the wall.
Ada sat up straight.
The terminal beside them lit up—slowly, deliberately.
[INCOMING TRANSMISSION. SOURCE: UNKNOWN.]