INN HQ – NEW ATLANTIS – CONTAINMENT LAB – NIGHT
The containment lab is colder than necessary.
Not because the systems demand it—but because the things stored here are meant to discourage attachment.
White light spills across reinforced glass, steel platforms, and biometric seals layered like paranoia made physical.
At the center of the lab lies Prototype Two.
Lifeless now.
No telemetry.
No neural flicker.
No breath simulated by machines.
Just a body that once tried to become something more—and failed.
MADISON CONNOR stands at the glass, hands clasped behind her back.
Director now.
Commander.
Strategist.
But here, alone with the dead, she looks like something closer to an old soldier visiting a grave.
Footsteps echo behind her.
Measured.
Familiar.
She doesn't turn immediately.
She already knows.
CHARLES LIVINGSTON, Director of INN Nexus City, steps into the light.
His coat is still on.
He hasn't sat down since arriving.
For a moment, neither of them speaks.
Two veterans.
Two directors.
Two people who survived things the agency prefers not to document.
Finally—
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON] (soft, almost smiling): You always did choose the darkest rooms to think in.
Madison exhales.
Turns.
For the first time tonight, her guard lowers—
just a fraction.
[MADISON CONNOR ]: And you always showed up unannounced when things were about to get complicated.
They stand there, facing each other, the hum of containment systems filling the silence.
Then—
They step forward and clasp forearms.
Not formal.
Not ceremonial.
Personal.
Old friends.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:It's been too long, Mads.
[MADISON CONNOR]:Long enough that you grew into the suit.
He smirks faintly.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON ]:You say that like you didn't.
She glances back at Prototype -2.
[MADISON CONNOR] :I didn't grow into this. I inherited it.
That lands heavier than she intends.
Charles follows her gaze.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]: This is Elira's work.
Not a question.
Madison nods once.
[MADISON CONNOR]:One of her earliest failures,Or successes. Depends who's writing the report.
They stand side by side now, looking through the glass.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON] :Do you remember Helix Point ?
Madison smiles—just briefly.
[MADISON CONNOR]:You disobeyed direct command and shut down an entire black site.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON] :You covered for me.
[MADISON CONNOR]:You saved twelve lives.
A beat.
[MADISON CONNOR]: I saved your career.
They share a quiet laugh—the kind only
people with shared scars can afford.
Then the present rushes back in.
[CHARLES ]:This thing—Prototype Two—it's tied to what we saw in the city.
Madison nods.
[MADISON] :Not tied.Connected.
She turns to him, eyes sharp now.
[MADISON] :Charles… we didn't create a weapon. We cracked a door.
Charles absorbs that.
[CHARLES ]:And someone just walked through.
NEW ATLANTIS – CITY CENTER – FLASHBACK (FRACTIONED)
The earthquake. The screams. Concrete folding like paper.
And then—
The Creature.
Gaunt. Five black eyes. Elastic limbs tearing steel apart with obscene ease.
Then—
Stillness.
A pulse.
Not an attack.
A correction.
The creature freezes.
Looks upward.
As if hearing something no one else can.
And then—
It vanishes.
Not destroyed.
Not killed.
Removed.
UNKNOWN LOCATION – ABANDONED LAB – NIGHT
The air distorts.
A low-frequency tear ripples across the center of the room.
A portal collapses inward, spitting light and ash.
The creature crashes onto the cracked floor, skidding across broken equipment.
It rises slowly.
Unsteady.
Disoriented.
This place is old. Human-built. Abandoned decades ago.
The creature tilts its head.
Its five eyes focus.
It is not hunting.
It is lost.
And somewhere deep in the shadows—
A device flickers to life.
Ancient. Alien. Listening.
FLASHBACK – ANOTHER EARTH (UNKNOWN DESIGNATION)
A city unlike New Atlantis.
Sharper angles. Darker skies. Technology
grown, not built.
Alarms scream.
A portal destabilizes.
The creature is being forced through—exiled, not deployed.
Figures shout in an alien tongue.
The last thing the creature sees—
A symbol.
A circle. A serpent.
Then—
Earth.
HYDRA-07 BLACK LAB – DEEP SUBLEVEL
AGENT MARCO LOPEZ is suspended in chains.
Wrists bound. Ankles locked. Shock collars embedded at the base of his skull.
Electric current surges through him.
He screams.
Not heroic.
Not restrained.
Human.
A Hydra technician adjusts dials without emotion.
[HYDRA TECH]: Increase cognitive override. He's still resisting.
Another surge.
Lopez's scream fractures into a hoarse cry.
[AGENT LOPEZ] :(through pain) Jaxon—!
The shock cuts him off.
Hydra doesn't care about his name.
They care about his connection.
NEW ATLANTIS – INN ROOFTOP – NIGHT
JAXON STEEL stands at the edge of the building.
The city stretches below—alive, fragile, unaware.
The wind tugs at his jacket.
He feels something wrong.
Not fear.
Not danger.
Absence.
He presses his fingers against the Neuro-Link interface at his neck.
Static.
No signal.
No warning.
Just a hollow sense of being out of sync.
[JAXON STEEL] :(quiet) Where are you, Lopez…
Behind him, the sky remains calm.
Unaware that his brother-in-arms is screaming in chains.
Unaware that something from another Earth now breathes beneath his city.
Unaware that gods, monsters, and old sins are converging—
And that he is standing directly at the center of it.
INN CONTAINMENT LAB
Madison and Charles stand before Prototype Two.
Two old friends.
Two directors.
Two people who know one truth too well:
Once a door is opened—
It never closes the same way again.
TO BE CONTINUED....