The white light swallowed them whole: cold, blinding, infinite.
For a moment, Clara thought she couldn't breathe. Then, slowly, the brightness faded, leaving them standing in a sterile corridor suspended between reality and nightmare.
The walls were metal, gleaming and immaculate. The air smelled of disinfectant and iron. Somewhere, a low mechanical pulse, like a heartbeat, echoed through the structure.
No one spoke. Their footsteps were the only sound, hollow and rhythmic against the steel floor.
Elias moved first.
"Welcome," he whispered, "to the belly of the beast."
Clara's eyes swept across the endless doors lining the corridor. Each was identical, no handles, no hinges, no names.
But behind them… she felt something.
Minds. Broken, restless minds hovering between life and death.
"There are people in there," she murmured, pressing a trembling hand to her temple. "I can feel them. But they're… fragmented."
Elias nodded grimly.
"Unfinished subjects. Failed experiments. They keep them in stasis to preserve what's left of their neural activity. Not alive. Not dead."
Clara closed her eyes, trying to silence the flood of thoughts crashing through her skull.
Voices whispered from every direction: pleas, names, fragments of pain.
Help me… make it stop… please…
Adrian caught her hand.
"Don't listen, Clara. They'll pull you under."
But one voice cut through the rest: clear, fragile, unmistakable.
Mom…
Clara froze. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"Did you hear that?"
Luca frowned. "Hear what?"
"It was a child. A little girl. She called me 'Mom.'"
Elias turned sharply.
"Don't trust it. They know what you want most. They'll use it against you."
Clara met his gaze.
"No. That was her."
The air seemed to thicken. The lights flickered, buzzing faintly and for a split second, the walls seemed to breathe.
Metal expanding and contracting like lungs.
"Keep moving," Elias ordered, his tone low but urgent.
They turned a corner. The corridor widened, revealing a vast chamber.
Glass pods stretched in perfect rows, filled with amber fluid that glowed faintly under the red emergency lights.
Inside each pod floated a human body: asleep, suspended, wired to a network of tubes and electrodes.
Clara approached one of them. The face inside made her blood run cold.
It was Marco Righi.
One of her former patients at the Mnemosyne Clinic, a young man plagued by recurring nightmares. She had thought he was cured. Rinaldi had told her he'd "moved away."
Elias' voice was quiet, almost compassionate.
"He did move away. Here. Every patient showing unusual mental activity ended up in the Sanctuary's archive. Officially discharged… unofficially, repurposed."
Clara touched the glass.
The figure inside twitched, just barely, as if recognizing her.
She stumbled back, tears burning in her eyes.
"My God…" whispered Luca. "It's a living graveyard."
A metallic click echoed overhead. Then another.
A deep hum filled the air.
Elias' face turned pale.
"No…"
The lights snapped red. A siren screamed through the halls.
"Protocol 9 activated. Unauthorized minds detected."
"Shit!" Adrian shouted. "They've found us!"
"Impossible!" Elias barked. "The mental shield is still active!"
"Maybe it's her," Luca said, pointing toward Clara.
She was trembling, pupils blown wide.
"They can feel me… they're inside my head!"
Adrian wrapped an arm around her waist. "Move!"
They ran. The floor vibrated beneath their feet. The siren pulsed like a heartbeat. Shadows flickered in the red light.
Somewhere, metal doors were unlocking.
"Here!" Elias yelled, throwing open a side door.
They burst into a smaller chamber, lit by a strange pulsing glow.
At the center stood a single pod, larger, more advanced than the others.
The light within it throbbed gently, like something alive.
Clara's breath caught. She stepped closer, unable to stop herself.
Each movement felt dreamlike, inevitable.
Inside the pod floated a small body.
Chestnut hair. Soft features.
"No…" she whispered, her voice cracking. "No, it can't be…"
Elias went rigid.
"Clara, stay back!"
She ignored him and pressed her palm to the glass.
The liquid inside rippled, responding to her touch.
Then the child's eyes opened: brilliant blue, achingly familiar.
Adrian staggered forward, disbelief written across his face.
"Those eyes…"
Clara fell to her knees.
"Aurora…"
The pod began to tremble. Hairline fractures split across its surface, spreading like veins of lightning.
"What the hell is happening?!" Luca shouted.
Elias' voice was shaking.
"They couldn't have… they wouldn't…"
Adrian knelt beside Clara. "Get back, it's going to… "
"She's our daughter, Adrian," Clara whispered. "Our little girl."
A sharp crack split the air.
The glass fractured, releasing a burst of white light so bright it devoured everything.
And through that blinding brilliance came a voice: soft, pure, familiar.
Mom…
The room exploded in a vortex of wind and energy. Papers flew. Metal groaned.
Then… silence.
When the light faded, Clara and Adrian stood hand in hand, breathless.
Before them, surrounded by a haze of pale mist, stood a small figure.
Elias' mouth fell open.
Luca dropped his gun.
Clara took a trembling step forward, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Aurora…"
The little girl blinked, uncertain but calm.
And in that suspended moment, the world itself seemed to stop breathing.