The air in the Velvet Protocol base smelled of that peculiar "something" Michelle had decided was a mix of old gym socks and retro video game nostalgia. Iris would probably describe it as "controlled environmental conditions." How boring does that sound, Michelle thought, trailing behind Iris and the mysterious Naya through the maze of dim pipes and flickering holograms.
The holograms, at least, were cool. 3D maps of the Dome danced in the air, with those heat points marking the city's "emotional tantrums," as she secretly called them. Level 12 again. Looks like that neighborhood has more drama than my favorite holographic soap opera. It was an abandoned industrial sector, wiped from the official memory as if the Dome was embarrassed by its own "emotional design flaws."
Yesterday, after Iris's revelation (which, let's be honest, sounded straight out of a low-budget spy movie), Michelle had spent the night in an aseptic room that screamed "spontaneous happiness is not permitted here." But, despite the initial shock, a part of her was… intrigued. Finally, something interesting was happening in her life beyond filing data on the sex lives of algae (a surprisingly extensive topic, by the way).
"So, 'Queen of Stoicism,' are you guiding us through the labyrinth of sadness today?" Michelle shot a bright smile at Iris, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
Iris, in her gray uniform that looked like it was made of compressed seriousness, threw a look back that could freeze a nanobot solid. "My name is Iris. And yes, I will guide you. Try to focus."
Beside her, Naya smiled, a flash of sharp teeth. Her earthy uniform and tribal adornments gave her the air of a bohemian warrior. "Don't worry, rookie. Iris is just... intensely focused. Like a cat about to hunt an emotional laser pointer."
"Nice to formally meet you, Naya," Michelle replied, returning the smile. "Is the cat-and-laser thing standard metaphor around here, or is that just your personal style?"
Naya let out a soft laugh. "Just my style. Metaphors here are usually more... technical. Like 'psychic energy fluctuations' and boring stuff like that."
Iris stopped in front of a panel, her fingers dancing across the touch surface. "Level 12 resonance is active. Erratic patterns. Naya, any visceral sense from your end?"
Naya closed her eyes, tilting her head slightly. "Yes... cold. A soul-deep kind of cold, you know? And something... broken. Like a favorite toy that can't be fixed anymore. And so many voices... like they're whispering sad secrets all at once."
"Sad voices," Michelle repeated quietly, a shiver running down her spine. Sounds less like a treasure map and more like a low-budget horror flick.
"Kurumi is in 'cyber-hermit' mode," Iris added, not looking away from the panel. "Analyzing Level 12 records. Trying to find the root of this... emotional drama."
Kurumi, Michelle thought. Hadn't met her yet. Naya had described her as "the smartest person you'll ever meet, but she'll probably correct your grammar while the world falls apart." She already liked her.
A fleeting memory crossed Michelle's mind, quick as lightning. The feeling of falling... the choked scream... the bright red color. She shook it off immediately. Those images sometimes popped up without warning, like unsolicited holographic ads in her brain.
"Ready for your first adventure in the 'we feel things' club?" Naya gave her a friendly nudge.
Michelle returned the smile, though a flicker of doubt crossed her eyes. "More ready than for another nanobot inventory audit, that's for sure."
Just then, Kurumi's voice echoed through the room via the communicators, without any preamble. "Correlation found. Sudden closure of a manufacturing complex in Level 12 thirty years ago. Incomplete reports. Many 'activity cessations'... euphemism for 'people who died under mysterious circumstances.'"
"Mysterious as in 'someone pushed everyone into an industrial meat grinder' mysterious?" Michelle asked, her tone trying for lightheartedness but revealing her growing unease.
"The records were... scrubbed," Iris added, her gaze now fixed on Michelle. "High labor stress. Union organization attempts... and a riot that was... suppressed. Silenced."
Silenced, Michelle thought. The word echoed ominously. A whole lot of unhappy people, silenced... that sounded like the perfect recipe for a ghostly emotional explosion.
"Michelle," Iris said, her tone now more direct. "When we go in there, I need you to trust what you feel. Don't try to make sense of it right away. Just... absorb the atmosphere. Naya will guide you with the... tangible. Kurumi will give us the intel. I'll... make sure you don't become a spectral decoration."
Michelle nodded, her usual sarcasm giving way to serious determination. "Got it. 'Emotional sponge' mode activated?"
Iris activated a device on her gauntlet. Her gray uniform began to emit a faint blue glow, as if Iris's very seriousness was charging up. "It's time. Naya, Kurumi, on your marks. Michelle... try not to fall over."
They headed to the transport platform. Light enveloped them, and the known world faded, replaced by a sensation of sharp cold and an oppressive silence that pressed in on their ears. The air vibrated with a barely audible whisper, as if thousands of voices were moaning in the distance.
Level 12 was a labyrinth of twisted metal and ghostly shadows under a sky the color of rust. The desolation was palpable, as if the very air was thick with sadness.
"Whoa," Michelle exclaimed, her eyes scanning the ruined industrial landscape. "This definitely kills the urge for a picnic."
"Try not to touch anything," Naya warned, her voice tense. "Things here have... sticky memories."
Kurumi's voice echoed in their ears. "Significant energy anomalies. Fragmented patterns. Attempting to isolate the source."
Iris advanced through the wreckage of machinery, her bright blue energy blade extending from her gauntlet like an extension of her will. Anger, despair, abandonment... feels like an open wound.
A spectral figure materialized in front of them, trembling and translucent. It was a man, his face contorted in silent agony, his hands outstretched as if reaching for something that was no longer there.
Michelle stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide. "Okay, that wasn't in the 'explore someone else's trauma' tourist brochure."
"Emotional echo," Iris explained, her voice steady. "Unstable. Don't touch it."
The specter began to tremble violently, and the whisper in their minds intensified, becoming a chorus of unintelligible sobs. The energy around them crackled.
"It's losing control," Kurumi warned. "We need the focal point."
Iris nodded. "Naya, your emotional compass... where does it hurt the most?"
Naya closed her eyes, her face pale. "Over there... a large structure, like a... giant furnace. I feel... something that broke and never healed."
"Let's go," Iris ordered, moving forward with determination. "Together. Michelle, stay between Naya and me. And remember what I said about not touching anything shiny. Add to that: try not to make prolonged eye contact with the sad ghosts. They might want to tell you their whole life story."
They ventured into the heart of the resonance, the spectral landscape growing denser and more oppressive. Michelle felt a pang of empathy, a distant echo of the suffering that permeated the place. So much sadness... and nobody listened. For the first time, she understood this wasn't just a weird adventure. It was something more. Something... important. And even with fear fluttering in her stomach, a prickle of determination began to grow inside her. Maybe, just maybe, she, with her peculiar way of seeing the world, could help those silent screams finally be heard.