"That didn't sound very convincing..." Louis muttered, rubbing his arm nervously.
"No kidding," I sighed.
Abby wiped sweat from her forehead. "So what do we do? Ignore it? I didn't even know these guards could copy voices."
"They can't. Or at least... I haven't seen them do it yet — and I've run into plenty of them," I said, forcing my voice steady.
"Then who was that?" she pressed. "Could other recruits be trying to lure us into danger?"
"I don't think so. Cutting our numbers wouldn't exactly be in their favor." I replied. "Maybe there are other anomalies. Ones that don't look like guards."
That thought lingered in the air like a sour taste.
For a moment, none of us said anything. The silence was thick — filled only by the faint buzz of a dying light bulb and the dull hum of the ventilation somewhere far above us.
"In any case," I said, breaking the silence "we can't rule out the possibility that floor twenty might actually have the exit — no matter how sketchy that call sounded."
"So... we head to floor twenty?" Louis asked carefully.
"We split up," I answered dryly.
Louis blinked, confused. Abby's expression darkened immediately.
"Are you insane?" she snapped.
"Listen." I straightened up, forcing my tone into something colder, more analytical. "We need to cover more ground-, as quickly as possible. I saw how many guards are crawling through those staircases. If they ever decide to move out all at once, they could cover almost every floor. One guard per floor would be all it takes to wipe us out."
Abby's lips tightened. Louis swallowed hard, fear flickering in his eyes.
"And for some reason," I continued, "these guards seem to weaken the lower they go. The one that killed everyone on this floor struggled against less people on the first. There's a pattern. Maybe tied to the exit itself."
I took a shaky breath.
'I really hate myself for this, but it's the only efficient move.'
"You two head to floor twenty," I said, quieter now. "It's safer. Abby needs support, she can't go alone with her arm like this."
Louis frowned. "And what, you're just going to floor seventy-two by yourself?"
"Trust me, I don't want to," I muttered. "But sending you there instead wouldn't end well. You'd just get caught in another mess. This way, we cover both possibilities — escape and investigation."
Louis sighed. "Alright. But if it gets too dangerous, head back up here."
"Yes," Abby added, voice firm despite the pain in it. "Thirty minutes. No more. We regroup on this floor."
I nodded. "Deal. And one more thing—" I looked at them both, lowering my tone.
"The elevators are a sort of sanctuary. One of the guards told me they can't perceive them. Use that to your advantage. If something goes wrong — hide there. Don't try to fight."
'Now that I think about it, Agent Erso told us to not rely on the Elevators... But why? They seem like the only Safe Haven in here.'
The three of us stood in silence, exchanging a final look. The overhead light flickered once, casting long shadows across the blood-stained marble floor.
The three of us stepped toward the elevator bank. Each metallic door reflected our faces in fragments — half there, half gone.
Abby pressed the button for "20." Her hand trembled slightly as she adjusted the sling on her arm. Louis gave me a faint, uncertain smile — the kind people wear when they're already preparing for bad news.
"You sure about this?" he asked.
"No," I said honestly. "But it's the best bad option we've got."
The elevator for floor 20 dinged open first. Abby stepped inside with Louis close behind, glancing over his shoulder one last time. I could feel the air between us — heavy, unspoken. The doors slid shut, taking their voices with them.
Then it was just me. The lobby lights flickered again. Somewhere above, metal groaned like something shifting in the vents.
I pressed "72" and exhaled, the elevator humming softly as it carried me downward-, alone again, with only the hum of machinery and my heartbeat for company.
——
The elevator slowed to a stop with a soft metallic groan. A chime followed-, hollow, echoing.
Floor 72.
The doors slid open to a dim corridor bathed in sterile white light. I froze.
This wasn't the same Floor 72 I had seen before-- the one beyond the staircase door had been suffocatingly still, draped in dust and silence, smelling faintly of mold and old paper.
But this… this place looked alive.
The air was fresh. The walls were clean. Fluorescent lights hummed gently overhead, casting even shadows on the polished tiles. I could hear the faint buzz of electricity running through the ceiling fixtures — an impossible sound, given that the building's power had been erratic for hours. And yet… there it was. The faint mechanical whirr of ventilation, the steady tick of a clock somewhere beyond the hall.
I took a cautious step out of the elevator, boots echoing quietly against the marble floor.
No dust.
No debris.
Even the framed certificates along the corridor walls looked straightened — perfectly aligned, as though someone had been here moments ago to fix them.
'Is this really part of the anomaly?'
The question formed silently in my mind. I knew better than to speak aloud-- too many things listened in this place.
'It doesn't fit in at all.'
The air was cold, unnaturally so, and every light that hummed above me felt intentional — a spotlight fixed on prey that hadn't yet realized it was being watched. My instincts screamed at me to step back into the elevator, press any other button, and let the doors close.
But I didn't. I forced my hand to steady.
'Think, Yuwon. Observe. Don't immediately react.'
That was what Supervisor Ash had told me as a word of advice. "The Bureau doesn't pay us to panic. It pays us to make sense of things that don't."
I moved deeper into the corridor. Each office door I passed had a nameplate-- Dr. L. Han, Administrator Kwon, Head of Internal Audits— all fake, all too polished. I tried one of the handles; it turned smoothly. Inside, fluorescent light spilled over neat desks, still-running computers, and half-drunk cups of coffee. Steam rose faintly from one of them.
My chest tightened.
"That's impossible," I muttered under my breath.
I looked up — the clock on the far wall read 12:01, the second hand ticking steadily forward. I remembered it vividly from before; when I first entered "Floor 72" through the staircase, that same clock had been frozen.
Every sign pointed to this being the same floor — the same architecture, same layout, same office numbers — but this one was... awake.
'So there are two Floor 72s,' I thought. 'One through the elevator, one through the staircase. One alive, one dead.'
The realization chilled me deeper than the cold air ever could.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard the faint click of heels on tile. Slow, deliberate, rhythmic — like someone walking with purpose. I turned toward the sound, every muscle tense.
And for the first time since entering, I noticed something else:
The elevator behind me was gone.
Only a seamless stretch of wall remained.
'What?!' I stumbled backward, eyes darting left and right. Every light overhead flickered once — a quiet, synchronized blink, like the floor itself had exhaled. Then came the footsteps again, sharper this time, echoing off the polished tile.
I slipped toward the opposite corridor, keeping low, heart hammering so hard it muffled my own breathing.
'Hiding behind a shelf or under a desk might buy time… but if all the elevators disappear—'
My thoughts fractured with panic.
'No. I have to find a way out before this Floor seals itself shut.'
I made it to the far end of the floor — and froze.
The other elevators were gone too. Not even the outline of the doors remained; just sterile white wall, untouched, mocking me.
But instead, at the far end of the floor red door appeared. The same door that leads to the stairwell on every ither floor.
'This floor is changing— It took away all the elevators and connected the alive version of floor Seventy-two to the staircase. Does that mean that both versions are connected to the stairs now?'
Then the footsteps stopped.
Silence.
A silence so absolute it pressed against my eardrums.
I turned just in time to see a blur— a dark figure hurtling toward me, arm slicing through the air with inhuman speed.
Instinct took over. I dropped low. The wind of its swing howled past my ear and shattered the glass wall behind me.
"Shit—!"
I bolted for the staircase, every nerve screaming.
That thing was behind me— I could feel the vibration of its steps shaking the floor.
It's too fast— too strong—
If it followed me into the staircase, I was done for, but there was no choice left.
'I have to reach the elevators of another floor!'
Just meters from the door, the air split with a metallic crack. The guard appeared ahead of me-, almost as if it hadn't moved, but had simply arrived, standing between me and the Staircase Door. Its head twitched with mechanical irregularity.
"Unauthorized movement detected," it said, in a voice that sounded like a dozen overlapping tones.
Then it charged.
I barely had time to twist aside before its fist crashed down, cracking the tile floor. My legs burned as I dodged again — a backhand tearing through the air with enough force to split bone.
It didn't give me any space or time to react.
Every movement was faster than the last. Speed that made it look like a glitching frame, teleporting in stutters of motion.
But through the panic, through the adrenaline, I noticed something—
'It's weaker.'
'Still monstrously fast. Still lethal.
But compared to Josh's mimic?'
'It's strong… but it's sloppy. Slower. Less precise.'
Hope flickered — violent and sharp.
The guard lunged again—