Val pov(first person point of view)
For a little while, none of us moved.
The three doors sat silently along the hallway, while the dark machine console waited at the far end like it knew something we didn't.(A console is a control machine with buttons, screens, or controls. Context: The sentence compares the machine to a person. It feels mysterious. It gives the feeling that the machine is hiding important secrets.)
Finally, Mira pointed toward the door closest to us. "...I vote we try one of the doors first."
Eclipsara nodded immediately. "I agree. The giant mysterious machine feels like the kind of thing that activates if you touch the wrong button."
I looked between the console and the doors. "...After everything that's happened today, I'd rather deal with one small disaster at a time."
"So, door first?" Mira asked.
"Door first." Eclipsara agreed.
"Door first." I sighed.
Decision made, the three of us cautiously approached the nearest doorway.
The closer we got, the quieter the hallway seemed to become. I couldn't stop thinking about those five impossible doors I'd encountered before. The ones that had thrown me from place to place without warning. The ones that seemed to all be connected in a way.
What if this was the same thing? What if the moment we stepped through, we would end up scattered?
Judging by the way Eclipsara's hand had drifted toward her weapon and the nervous glance Mira gave me, they were thinking exactly the same thing.
We stopped in front of the black doorway.
Nobody touched it.
"...So," Mira said quietly. "If this teleports us somewhere horrible..."
"We complain loudly?" I suggested.
"Reasonable."
Eclipsara took a slow breath. "...On three?"
The three of us nodded.
"One..."
"Two..."
"...Three."
Mira reached forward and pushed the door open.
We all instinctively tensed.(Instinctively-automatically, without thinking. Tensed = tightened their muscles because they expected danger. Fight or run)
We slowly peeked inside and then blinked.
"...Oh."
It was just a room. A very small room, actually.
Square-shaped, with the same black walls marked by thin white lines that spread across the surface like tiny fractures(Fractures = small cracks. Context: The white lines looked like little cracks in the black walls. They were probably decoration or part of the wall design.). The soft blue light from the hallway spilled inside, revealing a single plain table sitting quietly in the center. On top of it rested several stacks of papers and old-looking documents. (Spilled = spread into an area. Context: The blue light entered the room naturally through the open doorway. Stacks means piles placed neatly on top of each other.)
That was it.
No Monsters. No mysterious teleportation.
Just... paperwork.
The three of us stared at it for several seconds. Nothing even remotely close to the bizarre five-door experience I'd gone through before.
Then I looked at the others. "...That's it?"
Mira blinked twice. "...That's definitely not the experience you described, Val."
"No," I admitted. "This is definitely not what happened to me."
Eclipsara slowly looked around the room one more time. "...Are we sure we didn't accidentally skip the horrifying part?"
Nobody answered.
Carefully, the three of us stepped inside.
The moment we crossed the doorway, both Eclipsara and I immediately looked around the room again, checking the walls, the ceiling, beneath the table, and every dark corner we could find.
Nothing moved. Nothing jumped out. Nothing laughed. Nothing tried to kill us.
A few more seconds passed.
Then Mira let out the deepest sigh of relief I'd heard all day.
"...Oh, thank goodness."
Beside her, Eclipsara visibly relaxed and lowered her shoulders.
"...There aren't even any monsters or broken containment chambers."
I looked around the tiny room one last time.
It really was just a lonely table sitting in the center of a dark room, covered with papers that looked like they had been waiting for someone to read them.
"...Alright." I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Time to check this stuff out."
The three of us slowly approached the table.
Up close, there were far more documents than I'd originally thought. Stacks of papers sat neatly organized across the surface, some clipped together(Clipped together = fastened together with a paper clip.), others spread out beneath transparent covers.(Transparent = clear, you can see through it. Context: Some important papers were protected under clear plastic covers.)
For a moment, nobody touched anything.
Then our attention was drawn to a single document resting on top of the largest stack.
The title was impossible to miss.
Project: DAEMINA
The words were printed in enormous bold letters across the front page.
Silence.
The three of us stared at it.
Then we all spoke at the exact same time.
"...Why is it named after the nation?"
Another pause.
We continued staring at the title.
It somehow felt ominous. Mysterious. Potentially world-changing.
And yet...
"...That's a terrible project name." I said.
"It really is." Eclipsara agreed immediately.
Mira looked offended on behalf of proper naming conventions.(Conventions = normal rules or common standards. Context: Mira means the usual rules for giving good names to projects.) "That's the best they could come up with?"
I pointed at the document. "The nation already has that name."
"Exactly!" Mira said.
Eclipsara folded her arms. "So they made a project."
"Yep."
"And named it Daemina."
"Yep."
"The exact same name."
"Yep."
Silence.
Then all three of us nodded and repeated the line I had said. "Truly...what a terrible project name."
"Seriously," Mira said. "Imagine being a scientist and presenting that."
She straightened slightly and adopted a dramatic voice. "'Good news, everyone. We've created Project Daemina.'"
Eclipsara immediately pointed at her. "'You mean the nation?'"
"'No, the project.'"
"'The project named after the nation?'"
"'Yes.'"
"'Why?'"
"'I don't know.'"
"No creativity." I said.
"Absolutely none," Eclipsara added.
I pointed at the page. "What was the meeting for that even like I wonder?"
Eclipsara immediately adopted a deep voice. "'What should we call the project?'"
Mira instantly joined in. "'I don't know.'"
I nodded. "'What's outside the window?'"
"'Daemina.'"
"'Perfect. Meeting adjourned.(Adjourned = officially ended.)'"
All three of us immediately burst out laughing.
Mira shook her head.
"This is supposed to be some mysterious underground facility filled with dangerous experiments."
She pointed dramatically at the paper. "And the best they came up with was Project: Daemina? How freaking lazy are they?!"
Eclipsara and I snorted.
Mira looked down at the document again and shook her head. "As royalty, I would never allow naming standards to fall this low."
Both Eclipsara and I slowly turned toward her.
She blinked.
"What?"
I pointed at her. "I support this policy."
"So do I," Eclipsara agreed.
Mira nodded seriously. "Thank you."
"A strong stance against terrible project names."
"A noble cause."
"A necessary cause."
For a moment, the three of us simply stood there silently judging the long-dead scientists responsible for the title. None of them were alive to defend themselves, which was probably for the best.
Eventually, Eclipsara reached forward and picked up the document.
"Well..." Mira grabbed another stack. "If we're done insulting the naming department, we should probably figure out what this place actually was."
The humor faded slightly. Not completely, but enough.
Because beneath the terrible title sat hundreds of pages of notes, reports, diagrams, and records. Whatever Project DAEMINA had been, someone had gone through an enormous amount of effort to document it.
The room grew quiet again. The blue light reflected softly across the black walls as the three of us exchanged one final glance. Then, together, we began reading.(Reflected = bounced off a surface. Context: The blue light gently shined on the black walls, making the room look calm and mysterious.)
For the next several minutes, the only sounds were the soft rustle of paper and the occasional page turning.
Whoever had organized these documents had done so obsessively. Every report was dated. Every page was numbered. Every chart had annotations scribbled neatly in the margins. Every document was signed. And almost every single one assumed the reader already knew what Project DAEMINA actually was.
(Annotations = extra notes or comments. Scribbled = written quickly. Margins = the empty edges of a page. Context: Someone wrote small notes along the sides of the pages to explain things.)
Which made it remarkably unhelpful.
I picked up the first report.
LOWER FACILITY TRANSFER REPORT
Successful Integration Subjects(Integration-combining something into something else. Context: The reports never explain what was combined. That is why the characters are confused.)
Total successful transfers from Upper Research Division: 187
Transfer Status:
- Complete
- No transportation losses
- All surviving successful subjects relocated(moved to another place.) to Lower Facility.
Further synchronization procedures will continue below.
Lower Division personnel have assumed all responsibility for continued monitoring and synchronization procedures.(Procedures = planned steps or methods. Synchronization = making two things work together. Context: The scientists kept trying to make the subjects match or connect with something unknown.)
"...Successful integration again," Mira muttered.
I nodded. "They really like using that phrase."
"But they never explain what integrated with what." Eclipsara said.
I thought back to everything we'd seen upstairs.
"...Maybe they mean the Branch from the Tree of Life," I suggested. "That was the main focus of the upper-floor experiments."
"It would make sense." Mira admitted. "Every report up there mentioned exposure to the branch in one way or another."
She frowned at the page. "...But something about that doesn't feel right."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
She tapped the report with one finger.
"The upper-floor documents openly talked about the Branch of the Tree of Life. They weren't exactly subtle about it."
"...That's true. I admitted.
"So why suddenly stop naming it down here?" Mira continued. "If it's the same thing, why replace it with vague words like integration."
Neither Eclipsara nor I had an immediate answer.
After a moment, Eclipsara spoke. "...Maybe because these records were never meant for anyone outside this division."
She flipped another page as she continued.
"The upper floors handled early experimentation. More people probably worked there, so the documents had to be written clearly enough for different departments to understand."
Her visible red eye drifted across another report. "But down here..."
She lightly tapped the stack of papers. "...This seems different."
"Different how?" Mira asked.
"The wording."
Eclipsara frowned thoughtfully.
"They write as though everyone reading these reports already knows exactly what they're talking about."
I slowly nodded. "Like they're skipping the explanations."
"Exactly."
She folded her arms.
"Or maybe these files were considered so highly classified that even mentioning the Branch by name was unnecessary-or forbidden."
Mira looked thoughtful. "...So if these papers ever leaked, someone reading them wouldn't have enough information to understand what they were actually doing."
"That's my guess." Eclipsara replied.
"...Makes sense." I said.
Even so...
Something still bothered me.
If they were only talking about the Branch why did they go out of their way to avoid saying it at all? Was it the branch or...something else?
The thought lingered in the back of my mind as Eclipsara quietly flipped to the next page.
UPPER DIVISION CLOSING REPORT
Initial Registered Test Subjects: 1000
Subjects deceased during Primary Exposure: 588
Subjects deceased during Integration: 225
Subjects successfully integrated: 187
Total survivors transferred to Lower Division: 187
Upper Division responsibilities concluded.
Further casualty projections transferred to Lower Division. (Casualty = death or serious injury. Projections = predictions. Context: The lower division would now predict how many more people might die)
No additional viable candidates remain within Upper Research.(Viable = able to succeed or survive. Definition: Candidates = people chosen for testing. Context: There were no more suitable people left to experiment on upstairs.)
Silence.
"...Eight hundred thirteen failures..." Mira whispered.
Nobody commented. We already knew the upper floors hadn't exactly been... ethical. Still, seeing the number written so casually somehow made it worse.
I quietly set it aside as another report immediately caught my eye.
LOWER DIVISION PROGRESS LOG
All transferred subjects continue demonstrating stable integration.
No significant physical rejection observed.
Synchronization continues increasing across all surviving subjects.
Baseline biological function remains stable despite continued progression.
Further observation required.
"...Synchronization again."
Mira immediately looked over. "You found that word too?"
I nodded. "It's everywhere."
She held up one of her own pages.
"So is mine."
Synchronization Progress
Subject 001 — 12%
Subject 004 — 19%
Subject 017 — 31%
Subject 024 — 43%
Subject 039 — 58%
Subject 061 — 72%
Subject 082 — 91%
Subject 094 — 100%
Subject transferred to Stage Two.
I frowned. "...Another one."
Mira looked over. "What do you think they're synchronizing with?"
"I don't know."
Eclipsara looked thoughtful. "...Machines?"
"I thought that too."
"But wouldn't they just say machines?"
"...Probably."
Nobody had an answer.
I reached for another page.
Synchronization Monitoring
Subjects exceeding 100% synchronization no longer display expected biological limitations.(Definition: Limitations = natural limits. Context: The subjects were losing normal limits.)
Continued increase considered desirable.
No measurable decline in structural stability observed.(Structural = related to the body's physical structure. Definition: Stability = strength. Context: Their bodies stayed physically strong.)
Continue observation.
Silence.
"...Wait." I blinked. "...Exceeding one hundred percent?"
Mira leaned over my shoulder. "...Can percentages do that?"
"I don't think percentages are supposed to."
Eclipsara immediately nodded. "I have concerns."
"I also have concerns."
Mira pointed at the paper. "...Isn't one hundred percent literally... all of it?"
"Usually."
"Then how do you become more synchronized than all of it?"
"...Advanced mathematics."
"...Val."
"I have absolutely no idea."
Another report.
Synchronization Growth Chart
50%
71%
100%
147%
223%
401%
672%
913%
Synchronization continues increasing.
Original percentage scale retained for consistency.(Retained = kept. Definition: Consistency = keeping things the same. Context: Even though synchronization passed 100%, they kept using percentages because they did not want to change their system.)
No upper limit currently observed.
We stared.
"...That's..." Mira frowned. "...That's not how percentages work."
"I was literally thinking that."
Eclipsara folded her arms. "...Perhaps the scientists were very optimistic."
I couldn't even joke. Something about that sentence-
Original percentage scale retained for consistency.
It sounded like whoever wrote it had simply accepted that reality had stopped following the rules...and decided the paperwork should keep pretending it hadn't.
I quietly reached for another document.
Behavioral Observation
Subjects displaying synchronization above 100% consistently exhibit identical behavioral changes.
Symptoms include:
- Detachment from previous identity.
- Progressive emotional instability.(Progressive = slowly getting worse. Definition: Emotional instability = emotions becoming difficult to control. Context: The subjects became mentally less stable over time.)
- Obsessive fixation toward further synchronization.
- Increasing refusal to communicate.
- Diminished recognition of previous personal relationships.(Diminished-reduced. Definition: Recognition = remembering or knowing someone. Context: The subjects slowly stopped recognizing family and friends.)
Behavior remains consistent across all observed subjects.
Continue monitoring.
"...Well."
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Mira quietly said, "...That's disturbing."
Eclipsara nodded. "...Very disturbing."
Another document.
Medical Evaluation
Subject mental deterioration accelerating.
Despite complete physical stability, subject demonstrates increasing clinical insanity.
Recommendation:
Continue synchronization.
Behavioral instability appears to be an expected consequence of successful progression.
Current evidence suggests psychological deterioration does not interfere with synchronization growth.
No intervention recommended at this stage.
Silence.
"...Expected?" I asked.
Mira looked horrified.
"They just..." Mira pointed at the recommendation. "They just kept going?"
"It says continue." I said.
"...Even though they're becoming insane." Mira whispered.
"...Apparently," I replied.
Eclipsara looked down at the paper. "...These scientists were terrible people."
"Starting to think that too." Mira replied.
"...Or maybe." I said quietly, "they just stopped seeing them as people after being down here for so long."
Neither Mira nor Eclipsara answered.
Eclipsara only frowned at the page for another second before quietly sliding it away, almost like she didn't want to look at it anymore.
"...Let's read something else." Eclipsara said quietly.
She reached for another report. I reached for another one at exactly the same time.
Our hands bumped.
"...Sorry."
"...Sorry."
We both immediately reached again. Our hands bumped again.
Silence.
"...We're very coordinated."
"...In fairness." I said. "we've survived monsters together."
"And yet defeated by paperwork."
"...The paperwork is winning." I agreed.
Mira looked up from her papers. "...Are you two fighting the documents?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
Eclipsara narrowed her eye at the stack. "...The papers are surprisingly evasive."
"They keep moving," I said.
"They really don't." Mira muttered.
"They emotionally are." Eclipsara said.
I nodded seriously. "I understand what Eclipsara means."
Mira slowly looked between both of us. "...You've both officially read enough science to start going crazy."
"We're adapting."
"I'm worried that's true."
I finally managed to grab a different stack.
The first page wasn't text. It was almost entirely diagrams.
At first glance I assumed they were mechanical blueprints.
Then I looked closer.
They weren't mechanical blueprints.(detailed technical drawings.)
The page was covered in branching pathways that spread outward from several enormous circular structures (Context: The pathways started from several large circles.)before dividing again... and again... and again into thinner and thinner lines.(Branching pathways = splitting into smaller parts.Definition: Pathways = lines or routes.Context: The drawing showed many lines dividing again and again)
There weren't any labels. No measurements. No explanation.
Just an intricate network.
The longer I looked, the more uncomfortably familiar it became.
I'd seen diagrams like this before in biology class whenever teachers explained how blood circulated through the body.
Arteries(An artery is a blood vessel. It carries blood away from the heart to the body. Context: Arteries are usually thicker and stronger than veins because blood is pumped through them with more force.).
Veins.( A vein is a blood vessel. It carries blood back to the heart.Context: In your passage, Val says the diagram looked like veins. The branching lines reminded him of blood vessels inside a body.)
Capillaries(Capillaries = the smallest blood vessels. Context: They connect arteries and veins.). The branching pattern was almost identical.
Except...
It was wrong.
Entire sections branched far too many times before reconnecting somewhere else, almost as though the pathways had been designed rather than grown.
Some vessels looped back into themselves. Others merged into structures far larger than anything that should have existed. The proportions didn't resemble any human-like anatomy I'd ever seen.( Proportions = the sizes of different parts. Definition: Anatomy = the body's structure.Context: The drawing did not match any real human body.)
If someone had asked me what I was looking at... I honestly couldn't have answered.
But my brain stubbornly insisted it was trying to recognize a body. Why??
Without realizing it, I'd been staring long enough that everything else faded into the background. A small tug on my sleeve(the part of clothing covering the arm.) pulled me back.
I blinked.
Eclipsara was standing beside me, gently holding onto my wrist with both hands.
Her expression had tightened with quiet concern. "...Val?"
"Hm?"
"You stopped moving."
"...Did I?"
She nodded once. "You've been staring at the same page for a while."
"...Sorry."
She hesitated. "...Are you alright?"
The concern in her voice was so genuine that I couldn't help smiling a little.
"Yeah." I looked back at the diagram. "...It just reminds me of anatomy charts."
She looked down at the page. "...Does it?"
"A little."
She studied it for another second before looking back at me. "...I don't like it."
"...Neither do I."
Apparently satisfied that I wasn't about to collapse into an existential crisis, she quietly released my wrist. Only then did she pretend she'd never been worried in the first place and immediately picked up another document with exaggerated seriousness.
Beneath the illustration sat only a single typed sentence.
Growth continues according to projection.
"...Growth of what?"
Another page.
Synchronization Report
Subject 109
Current Synchronization: 118%
Physical Stability: Excellent
Neurological Stability: Severely compromised.(Severely = very seriously. Compromised = damaged or weakened.)
Subject no longer acknowledges former identity.
Subject voluntarily requested continued exposure.
Recommendation approved.
Subject 114
Synchronization: 162%
Subject displays obsessive attachment toward synchronization process.
Repeatedly refuses separation from exposure chamber.
Subject exhibits aggressive behavior when interruption is attempted.
Recommendation approved.
Subject 126
Synchronization: 241%
Speech increasingly incoherent.(impossible to understand.)
Identity degradation continues.
Subject continues requesting "more."
Subject refuses separation.
No longer demonstrates desire to leave facility.
Recommendation approved.
"...Every recommendation is approved."
"They never deny anything." Mira realized. "They don't even question it."
Eclipsara quietly flipped through another bundle. "...I don't think they ever intended to stop."
Nobody argued with her.
Because it really didn't seem like they had.
Another report.
LOWER DIVISION POPULATION STATUS
Successful Subjects Received: 187
Current Living Subjects: 183
Subjects Lost During Synchronization: 4
Current Synchronization Candidates: 183
Stage 3 Preparations Authorized.
"...Only four died down here," Mira murmured.
She looked back toward the earlier reports.
"...Compared to upstairs..." She frowned. "...That almost sounds successful."
"It shouldn't." Eclipsara said.
"No. It really shouldn't." Mira agreed quietly.
But somehow...
It did.
And that was probably the most unsettling part.
The report treated the loss of four people as statistically insignificant.(Statistically = according to numbers. Definition: Insignificant = too small to matter. Context: The scientists treated four deaths as unimportant because the number was small compared to the total.)
Just...four fewer. No names. No explanation. No cause of death. Nothing except a smaller number on the page.
Several more pages passed.
Every report repeated the same strange phrases.
Integration successful.
Synchronization progressing.
Transfer approved.
Exposure increased.
Never explaining what exposure meant. Never explaining what integration meant. Never explaining what synchronization actually was.
Just assuming whoever read the reports already knew.
Which, unfortunately...we didn't.
Eventually I leaned back slightly and rubbed my eyes.
"...These papers somehow answer questions by creating more questions."
"Agreed," Mira sighed.
"I now understand less than when we started."
Eclipsara nodded once. "...That is an impressive achievement for paperwork."
I couldn't argue with that. Honestly, she was right, the reports weren't lying. They were simply explaining almost nothing. And despite having read dozens of pages, it still felt like we were missing the single piece that made any of it make sense.
I reached for another stack.
This one was noticeably thinner than the others.
The pages were older, their corners slightly worn despite how carefully they'd been preserved. Several had handwritten notes squeezed into the margins, all written in the same precise handwriting I'd seen throughout the rest of the documents.(Context: The writer filled the empty edges of the pages with extra notes.)
The first page wasn't a report. It was an internal memorandum.(Memorandum (memo) = an official message shared inside an organization. Context: This was not a scientific report. It was a message between staff members inside the facility.)
INTERNAL RESOURCE UTILIZATION MEMORANDUM
Current mortality rates continue exceeding initial storage projections.
Accumulated biological material has begun interfering with routine laboratory operations.
Following review, the Research Committee has approved repurposing excess biological remains for future experimental applications.(Following review-After carefully checking everything. Research Committee = A group of scientists who make decisions. Approved-Officially said yes. Repurposing-Using something for a different purpose. Excess-More than needed. Biological remains-Dead bodies or body parts. Experimental applications-Future experiments. Context: The scientists decided not to throw away extra dead bodies. They would use them in future experiments instead.)
Recommendation:
All biologically viable remains are to be retained.(Biologically viable-Still useful for biological research. Not too damaged. Remains-Dead bodies or body parts. Retained-Kept. Not thrown away. Context: If a dead body could still be useful, they had to keep it.)
Incineration procedures suspended unless otherwise authorized.(Incineration = Burning something until it becomes ash. Procedures = Normal rules or steps. Suspended = Stopped temporarily. Authorized = Officially allowed. Context: They were no longer allowed to burn dead bodies unless someone with authority gave permission.)
Waste classification revoked.(Context: Dead bodies were no longer considered garbage. The scientists now treated them as useful resources.)
Silence.
"...Huh." Mira muttered.
I frowned. "They're... keeping the bodies?"
Eclipsara skimmed the page again before giving a small nod.
"...Apparently."
Nobody spoke for a moment.
Then Mira quietly asked,
"...They considered dead bodies useful?"
I turned another page.
Apparently...
Yes.
RESOURCE CONSERVATION NOTICE
Material scarcity within the Lower Division continues increasing.
Recovered biological remains demonstrate continued structural usefulness despite unsuccessful integration.
Current Recommendation:
All recoverable biological material is to be preserved for secondary applications.
Projected efficiency increase: 17%
Recommendation approved.
I stared at the last sentence for several seconds. "...Secondary applications."
"What does that even mean?" Mira asked.
"I don't know." I admitted.
"...I'm not sure I want to know." Mira murmured.
Neither did I.
The wording somehow bothered me more than the recommendation itself. They never wrote people. They never wrote bodies.
Just...
Biological material.
Like they were discussing spare machine parts instead of human beings.
Eclipsara quietly sighed.
"...At this point..." She reached for another page without looking particularly surprised anymore. "...I'm expecting every decision in this facility to be morally questionable."
"I think we passed morally questionable back on the upper floors." Mira said.
"I think we passed it before we even entered the lab." I replied.
"...Fair." Eclipsara agreed.
She looked down at another report before letting out a tired sigh. "...Doesn't this always happen in novels?"
"What does?" Mira asked.
"The scientists."
She gestured vaguely toward the mountain of paperwork. "They always start by saying they're making sacrifices for progress."
I nodded. "And then they immediately begin making the worst decisions imaginable."
"Exactly."
"They're remarkably consistent."
"They truly are."
I let out a long sigh. "...I don't want to read anymore."
"...Neither do I." Eclipsara admitted.
Mira looked up from her own stack.
"...We're still reading."
Eclipsara and I looked at each other. Then we both sighed.
"...Yes, Princess." I muttered.
"...As you command, Princess." Eclipsara added with complete seriousness.
Mira blinked. "...Why are you both like this?"
"Because apparently we don't have voting rights anymore." Eclipsara answered.
"You both agreed to keep reading."
"...Details."
Despite herself, Mira smiled and shook her head. "Keep reading."
"...Yes, Boss."
"...Yes, Princess." Eclipsara corrected.
"I outrank 'Boss.'" Mira replied with a grin.
"...Noted."
We continued reading. The next document immediately caught my attention. Not because of what it said. Because of the signature.
Research Recommendation Addendum(Addendum = An extra section added to a document.)
Submitted Recommendation:
General Vemmora
Proposal accepted for immediate implementation.
Projected synchronization efficiency increase considered significant enough to justify immediate authorization.(Context: They believed Vemmora's idea helped people synchronize faster.)
Recommendation unanimously approved.
I blinked. "...What?"
Beside me, Eclipsara froze. "...What?"
We both looked at each other. Then back at the page. Then back at each other again.
"...Vemmora?" I asked.
"...Vemmora." Eclipsara repeated.
Mira looked between us. "...Huh?"
I pointed toward the signature. "General Vemmora."
Mira leaned over. "...You mean my mother's psychotic alternate version?"
"...Looks like it."
Mira frowned. "...She was involved?"
Eclipsara slowly took the paper from my hands.
Her visible eye scanned it once.
Then twice.
"...That's..." She paused. "...Unexpected."
Another page had been clipped beneath it.
IMPLEMENTATION SUMMARY
Recommendation provided by General Vemmora has exceeded projected expectations.
Revised utilization methods have substantially increased synchronization efficiency while simultaneously reducing resource waste.
Implementation has reduced projected material shortages across all Lower Division operations.
Additional recommendations from General Vemmora are strongly encouraged.
Nobody spoke.
Mira looked completely confused.
"...She recommended this?"
"It says she did." I replied.
"...Why?"
I didn't answer, because I genuinely didn't know.
Out of everyone whose name I'd expected to find buried somewhere inside this facility... Vemmora wasn't one of them. Especially not attached to documents praising her ideas.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Eclipsara quietly frowning. Not at the report. At the name.
She looked just as confused as I felt. Because both of us knew something Mira didn't. From the old journals. From the film reels. From everything we'd uncovered before.
Vemmora should have hated this place. She should have hated these experiments more than almost anyone.
So why...
Why was she helping them? The question lingered in the back of my mind as I quietly set the papers aside.
There weren't any answers. Only more questions. Like everything else in this facility.
The remaining documents followed the same pattern. Clinical observations. Resource requests. Authorization forms. Routine progress reports written with detached professionalism. Each one revealed another small piece. Never enough to explain the whole picture, only enough to make it feel larger. Darker.
As if we weren't uncovering the truth...
Only walking around its edges of a horrible truth
Eventually, the final page was turned. The last report quietly joined the growing pile in the center of the table. For a long moment, none of us reached for another document.
Woulda read it last night but I was a tired boi. Anyways ily and ill be waiting muahahahaha
I love you too! A tired boi needs sleep first. I'm glad you prioritized your sleep. Read it whenever you like and whenever you're comfortable-there's no rush. Hope you enjoy the chapter!
@CrustedMuffin02 always enjoying it. Most curious about the doors though so don't leave me hanging too long lol. And when my body says sleep like the kind of tired I was there's no option but too. I will crash