Page 38 of Found

Engineers were meticulous. They never abandoned a post without leaving something behind—proximity mines, automated defenses, biological deterrents. I’d learned that the hard way on three separate occasions. The scars that crisscrossed my body told that story better than words ever could.

A small gap in the exterior wall offered entry. I crouched, sniffing the air around it. No chemical traces. No telltale electrical hum. I extended my claws and scraped them along the edge of the opening, testing for trigger mechanisms. Nothing. Still, I proceeded with caution as I slipped through the gap and into the dimness beyond.

The interior was cooler, the air stale with disuse. Emergency lighting glowed faintly along the baseboards, casting an eerie blue tint over everything. So the power systems were still operational—interesting. Most abandoned facilities ran dark after a few years without maintenance.

I moved silently through the corridors, avoiding debris and fallen ceiling panels. My night vision revealed what human eyes would miss—the subtle indications of a hasty departure. Knocked-over chairs. A mug with remnants of some long-dried beverage. Personal items left behind as though their owners had fled in a hurry.

“What were you running from?” I murmured, my voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silent space.

A door to my right stood partially open. I pushed it wider with my foot, claws at the ready. Inside, a bank of computer terminals lined the wall. Most were dark, but one glowed with the same faint blue as the emergency lighting. I approachedit cautiously, ears swiveling to catch any sound of automated defenses powering up.

The terminal responded to my presence, its screen brightening. Text scrolled across it, too fast for even my enhanced vision to track. Then it stabilized, displaying what appeared to be a communication log. I leaned closer, my breath fogging the screen slightly.

FACILITY DECOMMISSION ORDER: PRIORITY ALPHA

ALL PERSONNEL REASSIGNED TO SECTOR 7 EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY

RESEARCH MATERIALS TO BE SECURED PER PROTOCOL OMEGA-9

REMAINING SPECIMENS TO BE TERMINATED

The last line made my skin crawl. I had been a “specimen” once. I knew what “terminated” meant. My fingers tapped at the interface, scrolling through more logs. Most were mundane—supply requests, maintenance reports, personnel transfers. But one caught my eye.

PROJECT KRIDRIN ASSETS REQUIRE SPECIAL HANDLING

ALL GENETIC MATERIALS TO BE PRESERVED

VIABLE SUBJECTS IN STASIS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

Kridrin. The name sent a jolt through me. I’d heard Zehn mention them before—enemies of the Legion.

I continued searching, piecing together fragments of information. The Engineers had been studying Kridrin technology, perhaps even their genetic code. Had they been trying to resurrect their old allies? Or weaponize their remains? Either way, it couldn’t be good.

A final log entry caught my attention:

TERMINUS PROTOCOL ACTIVATED

FACILITY LOCKDOWN INITIATED

ALL PERSONNEL EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY

MAY THE GODS HAVE MERCY ON US ALL

The date stamp was nearly five years ago. Whatever had happened here, it had been bad enough to warrant complete abandonment. And yet, the systems were still online, still waiting...

I stepped back from the terminal, deciding I’d seen enough. This place made my fur stand on end. We’d camp for the night as planned, but I’d convince Zehn to give this facility a wide berth when we continued our journey tomorrow. Everly didn’t need to be anywhere near whatever dark secrets this place held.

As I turned to leave, my boot caught on something—a small, cylindrical device partially hidden beneath a fallen ceiling panel. I crouched to examine it, careful not to touch it directly. It appeared to be some kind of scanner, its lens pointed upward. Before I could back away, the device hummed to life, a beam of light shooting out to wash over me.

“Genetic signature detected,” a mechanical voice announced. “Subject classification: Kridrin hybrid experiment KOR-7.”

My blood ran cold. KOR-7. Khaaz Orenn Rakkaan. They knew what I was. What I had been.

“Initiating security protocol,” the voice continued. “Unauthorized Kridrin genetic material detected. Terminus countdown initiated.”

Lights flared to life throughout the facility. Alarms began to wail. A different voice—deeper, more resonant—began a countdown from sixty minutes. I cursed, lunging for the terminal, fingers flying across the interface as I tried to abort whatever I’d just triggered.

ACCESS DENIED

---