The door didn't creak.
It breathed open.
A slow exhale of cold air rolled up the stairwell, carrying a scent that didn't belong to dust or decay.
Something clinical.
Something preserved.
Something that refused to die.
---
Artyom stepped down first.
Not because he was fearless.
Because something below was calling him by name without speaking it.
Each step echoed.
Not loud.
Too clear.
Like the building was listening.
---
Behind him—
Viktor followed.
Close enough to intervene.
Far enough to let Artyom lead.
The rest moved in formation.
Roman last.
Valentin silent.
Watching everything.
---
The lower level was intact.
Too intact.
Lights flickered on as they entered.
Not broken.
Waiting.
---
Rows of glass chambers lined the walls.
Empty.
Mostly.
Labels scratched into metal plates:
Ω-3
Ω-5
Ω-8
Numbers without names.
Lives without endings.
---
Mikhail's voice dropped.
"This place isn't abandoned."
Nikola nodded once.
"It's paused."
---
Ω-1 slowed.
Its breathing uneven again.
Eyes darting.
"Too loud…"
Artyom glanced back.
"There's no sound."
Ω-1 shook its head.
"You don't hear it."
A pause.
"They're still here."
---
Dmitri scanned the system.
"Residual data logs are active. Something is maintaining this level."
Yelena's lips curved faintly.
"Or someone."
---
At the center of the room—
A single console stood lit.
Unlike the others.
Untouched.
Alive.
---
Artyom walked toward it.
Each step felt heavier.
Like walking into a memory he didn't remember choosing.
The screen activated the moment he got close.
No password.
No delay.
Just recognition.
---
WELCOME BACK, SUBJECT ZERO.
---
The words hit harder now.
Not as a title.
As a claim.
---
Viktor stepped beside him.
"Don't touch anything."
Artyom didn't listen.
His fingers hovered—
Then pressed the screen.
---
The system opened instantly.
Files.
Videos.
Logs.
Everything.
Unlocked.
---
Dmitri moved closer.
Eyes scanning rapidly.
"This is the core archive."
Roman's voice lowered.
"Then this is where they hid the truth."
---
A video file blinked.
Auto-play.
---
A lab.
Brighter than before.
Colder.
Cleaner.
---
Three figures stood behind the glass.
Younger.
Sharper.
Unmistakable.
Roman Volkov.
Sergei Sokolov.
And—
Andrei Morozov.
---
Artyom didn't breathe.
---
On the recording—
A small child sat in the center chair.
Hands strapped.
Eyes wide.
Trying not to cry.
---
Him.
---
The audio crackled.
Sergei's voice.
> "Stability readings?"
Andrei responded calmly.
> "Higher than expected."
Roman's voice cut in.
> "Then push further."
---
The child flinched as something unseen happened.
No screaming.
Just silent pain.
---
Artyom stepped back.
The world tilted.
---
Viktor's hand steadied his shoulder.
But Artyom barely felt it.
---
On the screen—
The test continued.
---
Andrei again:
> "If we continue at this rate, the subject will surpass predicted thresholds."
Sergei:
> "Good."
Roman:
> "We don't need stable."
A pause.
> "We need absolute."
---
The video froze.
---
Silence.
---
Heavy.
Suffocating.
---
Artyom's voice came out hollow.
"They didn't just create me…"
A pause.
"They pushed me past human limits."
---
No one denied it.
Not even Roman.
---
Ω-1 stepped closer to the screen.
Eyes fixed.
Breathing uneven.
"They did that to me too…"
The words cracked.
---
Artyom turned.
For the first time—
He didn't just see Ω-1 as another subject.
He saw—
someone who survived the same fire.
---
Suddenly—
The system flickered violently.
Alarms screamed.
Not external.
Internal.
---
Dmitri's voice sharpened.
"Something's overriding the system."
Nikola's hand tightened on his weapon.
"From where?"
---
The lights dimmed—
Then turned red.
---
A new screen appeared.
Not part of the archive.
Live.
---
A figure sat in a chair.
Facing away.
---
Artyom's breath stilled.
"Who is that?"
---
The figure moved.
Slowly.
Turning.
---
Pale face.
Empty eyes.
A smile that didn't belong.
---
"Welcome back," the voice said.
Smooth.
Wrong.
---
Ω-1 froze.
"No…"
A step back.
Shaking.
---
Artyom's pulse spiked.
"Who are you?"
---
The figure tilted its head.
Just like Ω-1 did.
Just like Artyom had once done.
---
"Designation: Ω-2."
A pause.
Smile widening.
---
"I was wondering when my siblings would return."
---
Everything went still.
---
There wasn't just one more.
There were more.