Ronald and Samuel waited for Elena in the glass-walled conference room overlooking the anomaly's core. The hum of generators and the flicker of warning lights gave the space an uneasy energy. Elena swept in, tablet in hand, her eyes sharp and impatient.
"Make it quick," she said, barely glancing up from her screens. "We're hours from another board review, and containment is at its limit."
Ronald stood, his presence calm but commanding. "Elena, you need to listen. Samuel's found something in the data—something critical. The anomaly isn't just a field or a malfunctioning machine. It's feeding on the people you send in. Every subject makes it stronger, more unstable."
Samuel slid a printout across the table, showing the patterns he'd uncovered. "Look at these spikes. Every time someone enters, the anomaly's boundaries shift. It learns, adapts. When people come out with their memories, it reacts violently. If we keep pushing, we'll lose control entirely."
Elena barely glanced at the data. "We're not losing control. We're close to a breakthrough. If we can just stabilize the entry and exit protocols, we can harness the anomaly's energy. Do you realize what that means? Time correction, environmental repair, even selective historical intervention—"
Ronald cut her off, voice rising. "You're not listening. It's not a tool, Elena. It's a predator. The more you feed it, the harder it is to contain. If you keep using people as test subjects, you'll trigger a catastrophe."
Elena's jaw tightened. "We're too far in to turn back. The board wants results, and so do I. If we can't control the anomaly, the whole project will be shut down and everything we've worked for will be lost. I won't let that happen."
Samuel tried one last time, desperation in his voice. "You're not just risking the project. You're risking everyone in this facility—and maybe beyond. Please, Elena. We need to stop."
But Elena shook her head, her gaze cold and resolute. "No. We're on the verge of something world-changing. I'm not letting fear—or sentiment—get in the way of progress. If you're not with me, you're just another obstacle."
She turned and strode out, leaving Ronald and Samuel in the uneasy silence, the anomaly's pulse echoing their dread. For a moment, neither man spoke. The hum of the core seemed to grow louder, as if the anomaly itself was listening, waiting.
Samuel stared at the closed door, then turned to Ronald, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ronald… where did it come from? The anomaly. When did it first appear? Was it always here, or did something… make it?"
Ronald's eyes lingered on the swirling lights beyond the glass, his face shadowed by memory. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, quietly, he replied, "That's a question we've all been asking since the beginning, Samuel. And the truth is—no one really knows. But I can tell you what I saw, how it started. What we did… and what we found."
He glanced at Samuel, the weight of decades in his gaze. "But that's a story for another night. And it's not an easy one."