Anna's breath hitched as the heavy doors slammed shut behind her with a deafening clang. The sudden darkness swallowed her whole, broken only by faint, flickering overhead lights. The air was thick with dust and something metallic..oil, rust, maybe fear.
She crouched low, heart hammering in her chest. Somewhere deep inside, she knew there was no turning back now.
From the shadows ahead, she heard low murmurs and the soft clink of tools against crates. Her eyes struggled to adjust, but she made out figures moving purposefully through the cavernous space.
The pendant's spiral design burned in her mind, and the weight of the VR headset in her backpack reminded her this was more than just a break-in—it was a plunge into something far darker and far bigger than she had imagined.
A sudden shuffle of footsteps drew near.
Anna flattened against the wall, breath barely a whisper. When the footsteps faded, she moved.
Rows of people in identical gray uniforms moved with eerie precision, their faces obscured by smooth white nose masks that gave them an almost otherworldly detachment. Some sat hunched over glowing computer screens, fingers flying across keyboards. Others handled a massive circular object in the center of the room..a swirling, luminous disc that pulsed softly like a portal to another world.
It was like walking through the set of a low-budget sci-fi movie, except the humming from that disc was far too real.
Nothing here looked like production or manufacturing. It was all alien and unsettling, and yet somehow... familiar.
"Seen worse," Anna muttered under her breath, mostly to convince herself.
She crept along the shadows, doing her best impression of an international spy. She knocked over a wrench. Then a box of what looked like labeled nose masks. Then a clipboard. One of the workers turned at the sound.
Anna froze, wide-eyed, her body awkwardly twisted mid-step like a cartoon character caught in the act.
"Hmm," the worker muttered behind his mask, then turned back.
"Nailed it," Anna whispered with an awkward thumbs up to absolutely no one.
She ducked into a small adjoining room filled with uniforms and spare masks. The smell of antiseptic and fabric dust filled the air. She found a size that roughly matched hers and wrestled it on, accidentally putting one leg into a sleeve before realizing her mistake.
"This is why I didn't do drama club," she grumbled.
Mask on, coat zipped up, she stepped back out, now just another faceless drone among many. The change was instant. No one paid her any attention. She even nodded solemnly to a nearby worker. He nodded back with what she assumed was an approving grunt.
"I am the night," she muttered, adopting her best Batman voice.
Then she saw him.
Mr. Huntsman.
He stood in a glass-walled office above the floor, talking with the same brute who had manhandled her outside Andrew's house. Their gestures were sharp, their expressions grim. Anna's stomach turned.
She waited. Watched. And when they stepped out, deep in conversation and heading toward the glowing disc, she made her move.
She crept up the grated stairs, each step a betrayal under her weight. They creaked and groaned like an old pirate ship, but she kept going. Finally, she slipped into the office.
Crawling low, she made her way to the desk. A tangle of cords, papers, and high-tech junk cluttered the surface. There, lying in the center like a crown jewel, was the VR headset.
Anna stretched out her hand like it was the Holy Grail. Her fingers curled around it, and for a split second, she imagined the Mission Impossible theme playing in her head. Cue: Loud Bang!!
She jumped, smacking her head on the underside of the desk.
"Ow, ow, ow," she whispered, rubbing her scalp and blinking tears from her eyes. But the headset was now tucked safely into her coat.
She scanned the room for more clues. Her fingers brushed across papers stamped with red symbols, diagrams of human brains, and what looked disturbingly like a digital blueprint of the pendant. She had no time to process.
The door creaked.
Anna dove under the desk just as footsteps entered.
A familiar cold voice slid through the air like a blade.
"Miss Anna... you just don't listen, do you?"
Mr. Huntsman stood in the doorway, expression unreadable, eyes locked on the cluttered room.
Anna held her breath. For a moment, she hoped maybe, just maybe, he hadn't seen her.
Then his shoes turned toward the desk.
"Oh my... is he going to kill me?" she whispered, heart thudding wildly.
She tried to shrink even further into the shadows beneath the desk, now more awkwardly squashed than hidden.
"You know," Huntsman said calmly, stepping further in, "You're quite the curious one. Most people would've gone to the police. But you? You sneak into secure facilities in stolen uniforms."
Then she thought, she should I've just gone to the police. Why go through all this stress? Like it mattered now. She has already been caught. Reminiscing will do no magic now.
Anna pressed her back to the cool metal wall of the desk, desperately scanning for something to use...a pencil, a paperweight, a fire extinguisher.
Anything.
"I always said curiosity killed the cat," he continued, now inches away. "But satisfaction brought it back, didn't it?"
She wasn't sure if that was a threat or some kind of philosophy lecture. Whatever it was, she didn't like it.
Then the radio clipped to Huntsman's side buzzed.
"Sir. We need you on the floor. The calibration's off again."
He clicked the radio. "I'm on my way. Keep the portal stable."
A pause. Then he turned to the desk and bent down.
Anna froze.
But he didn't look directly at her. Instead, he stared at the chair.
"Get out from under there, Anna," he said coolly. "Now."
Her mind spun. Her body screamed to flee. But her limbs refused to move.
And then, with unsettling calmness, he smiled.
"Let's talk."