Page 112 of Immersed
“Power’s still on,”Owen observed, pointing to the humming refrigeration units with glowing digital displays.“Someone’s keeping this place running.”
The alarm continued to wail, its volume muffled by the closed door but still disorienting. They needed to work quickly.
“Look for anything labeled with Faine’s name,”Levi instructed.“Or with the triangular symbol. The blood sample is supposedly in ‘frozen slumber,’ so check the refrigeration units first.”
They spread out. Zoe and Owen tackled the filing system, searching for inventory records that might indicate the sample’s location. Maddie and Tyler checked the refrigeration units along the left wall, while Elliot and Jasper took the right. Levi and Asher moved toward the back of the room, where a larger, more sophisticated freezer unit dominated the space.
Unlike the other equipment, this freezer bore no manufacturer’s label or institutional marking. Instead, the triangular symbolwasetchedinto its stainless steel door, surrounded by a circular pattern similar to whatthey’dseenin the courtyard.
“This is it,”Levi said with certainty.“The first guardian.”
The freezerwassecuredwith an electronic keypad rather than a conventional lock. A small screen above the keypad displayed a pulsing triangle.
“Any ideas?”Asher asked, studying the interface.
Levi consulted Faine’s journal, flipping through pages until he found a reference to security protocols.“Here,”he said, pointing to a notation.“‘Primary access codes follow the Fibonacci sequence, beginning with the initial pairing.’”
“Fibonacci,”Owen repeated, joining them.“That’s 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, and so on. Each number is the sum of the two preceding ones.”
“But what’s the ‘initial pairing’?”Maddie asked.
Levi studied the journal again, finding another cryptic note:“‘The sequence begins where all things begin—at the origin point.’”
“The origin point of the Fibonacci sequence is technically zero and one,”Owen suggested.“So maybe try 0, 1?”
Levi entered the digits, but the keypad emitted a harsh buzz of rejection.“Not that simple,”he muttered.
“What about Faine’s birth date?”Zoe proposed.“That would be his personal origin point.”
Good thinking,Levi agreed silently, flipping through the journal.“Here—personnel records list it as 11-23-1913.”
“Try 11, 23,”Asher suggested.“Month and day.”
Levi entered the numbers, and the keypad emitted a softer tone—not acceptance, but not outright rejection either. The display changed, showing two empty spaces followed by a question mark.
“It wants the next number in the sequence,”Owen realized.“If 11 and 23 are our starting pair, then the next number would be...”
“34,” Elliot supplied. “11 plus 23.”
Levi entered 34, and the display changed again, now showing a new pair of numbers with another question mark.
“It’s testing us,”Asher observed.“Making sure we understand the pattern before granting access.”
“So now it’s 23 and 34, meaning the next number is 57,”Owen calculated.
Levi entered 57, and the sequence continued: 34 and 57, requiring 91 next. The pattern repeated several more times, each correct answer advancing them through what felt like a mathematical gauntlet.
“Last one,” Levi murmured as he entered 610. “This has to be it.”
The keypad emitted a cheerful series of tones, and the triangular symbol on the display began to glow bright blue. A pneumatic hiss emanated from the freezer as its seal disengaged, the door swinging open to reveal a mist of supercooled air.
Inside, bathed in the ethereal blue light of internal LEDs,wasa single glass vial suspended in a specialized holder. The vial contained adark red liquid—blood, preserved through some advanced technique thathadpreventeddegradation despite the passage of decades.
“That’s it,” Levi breathed. “The first key.”
Asher reached for the vial, but Levi caught his wrist.“Wait,”he cautioned.“The riddle mentioned ‘the touch of flame to release its essence.’ There might be a specific extraction protocol.”
“Or it could be booby-trapped,”Jasper added helpfully.
