The next morning, sunlight filtered through the cafeteria windows. The group gathered around the table. Laughter rippled as Ethan recounted a clumsy mishap during yesterday's supply run, earning even Dylan a faint grin.
Jenkins stood abruptly, leaving his half-eaten breakfast.
"You should finish your meal," Joan said gently, concern in her eyes.
"I'm already full," he replied, his smile polite but distant. "I just want to get back to the lab." He nodded to the group. "Breakfast was great. Really." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left.
Inside the lab, Jenkins retrieved a thick folder from a locked drawer. The label read: Case File: EVE-1.
He took a seat and reviewed his notes from the night before: half-formed hypotheses, protein sketches, and a detailed drawing of Yve's blood under the microscope.
Setting the folder aside, he picked up a clean glass slide. A drop of Yve's plasma settled under the lens. He leaned in, adjusting the focus, and began sketching the microscopic view, marking the strange vesicles with careful crosshatches. Every line counted. Every detail mattered.
~~~
That afternoon, metal clanged through the mobility wing. Ethan wiped sweat from his brow, tools scattered across the floor.
"Try it now," Ethan called.
The engine sputtered, coughed, then died again.
"Damn thing's older than I am," Derek muttered from the driver's seat.
Ethan dove back under the hood. Derek's eyes wandered, habit and instinct taking over. Near the far corner, a thin, jagged crack ran from floor to ceiling, barely visible in the dim light.
He frowned. "Hold up," he said, walking closer. Dust lay fresh beneath it. He knelt, running a calloused finger through it, then followed the line upward. The crack branched, like a spiderweb, disappearing into the ceiling.
Derek's gut tightened.
He traced the crack along the wall to a support column at the back of the wing. A hairline fracture ran vertically, and the concrete at its base looked uneven, sunken.
He crouched, pressing his palm to the floor. It was cool, but a faint vibration ran through it, not from the truck, but from beneath.
"Ethan," he called, voice low. "Shut it down."
Ethan looked up, confused. "What's wrong?"
Derek stood slowly, eyes fixed on the column. "Something's wrong. The foundation's moving."
Ethan paled. "You sure?"
"Go get Lucas and David. Now." Derek's voice left no room for argument. Ethan dropped the wrench and sprinted from the mobility wing.
Moments later, Lucas and David arrived, alert and scanning the area. Lucas still had a smudge of oil on his cheek; David's sleeves were rolled up, tension etched in his jaw.
"What is it?" Lucas asked, eyes narrowing.
Derek pointed to the far wall. As they stepped closer, the hairline crack came into view, branching like a spiderweb.
David crouched, brushing fingers through the dust. "This is recent."
Lucas knelt beside him, tracing the line with his eyes. "That's a stress fracture."
Derek nodded. "It runs all the way to that support column. I checked the base—there's a shift in the floor. Slight, but it's there."
David stood slowly. "Could be water damage. Or pressure from the upper levels."
Lucas scanned the wing. "We built this place in under two weeks. A year without maintenance… it adds up."
Derek crossed his arms. "I've seen this before. Back in the Corps, we had a forward base with a similar crack. Everyone thought it was just moisture. Two weeks later, the roof caved in."
The three men stood in silence, the weight of the observation settling in.
David knelt, pulling a measuring tape from his pouch. He stretched it across the crack. "Three millimeters. Not huge, but enough to raise a flag."
Derek tapped the base of the column lightly with the butt of his wrench. The sound was dull, off. "Hear that? Should be sharper. That's stress."
Lucas scanned the ceiling. "There's a hairline running across the slab. Matches the wall crack."
Ethan hovered nearby. "What does that mean?"
Lucas looked at him. "The ground underneath might be sinking. Slowly. Could be natural. Could be structural fatigue."
Derek added, "We rushed the foundation. Even a small shift could start pulling the supports apart."
David brushed dust from his hands. "We need to check the sublevel through the crawlspace. That'll show what's really going on."
Lucas nodded. "If there's pressure building underneath, we'll feel it down there."
They moved quietly to the other end of the mobility wing. The hatch groaned as David pried it open, revealing a narrow shaft leading into darkness.
Lucas clicked on his flashlight. "I'll go first." He disappeared into the shadows, boots clanging softly against the rungs. David followed while Ethan and Derek stayed above.
The sublevel was cramped, barely tall enough to stand. Pipes lined the low ceiling, some dripping into puddles on the uneven floor. Concrete walls were stained and cracked, with exposed rebar peeking through.
Lucas swept his light across. "Man, I didn't really do a good job down here."
David crouched near a support beam, brushing away debris. "Don't blame yourself. The government rushed us." He pointed to a hairline fracture along the base of the column. "See that? It's mirrored down here."
Lucas knelt beside him. "The rebar's rusting. Moisture's weakening the core."
David ran a hand along the beam. "It's bowed. Slightly, but enough to tell me this place is under stress."
Lucas stood, brushing dust from his knees. "We need to check the other columns. If this one's compromised, the others might be too."
~~~
Back at the lab, Jenkins kept his hypotheses to himself, though his mind raced. He set down his pen, grabbed the medicine kit from the shelf, and snapped it shut with practiced efficiency. Without hesitation, he crossed the lab and tapped his ID card against the panel beside the reinforced metal door. A soft beep sounded, followed by the hiss of hydraulics as the door slid open.
He stepped into the corridor, kit clutched tightly in one hand, expression unreadable.
At the main hall, he called out, calm but purposeful, "Yve, I need to check your hands. Your wounds. It's important to keep them clean and rebandaged."
Yve stiffened, her cheerful expression faltering as her eyes darted to her bandaged palms. She hesitated, silence speaking volumes. Jenkins felt his chest tighten. She knew—or at least suspected.
Dylan, ever watchful, noticed Yve's unease and gave her a small, reassuring nod.
Jenkins approached with the medical kit, movements deliberate and careful. "This won't take long," he said, though a tremor betrayed his anticipation. Kneeling slightly, he gestured for her to give him her bandaged palms.
Gently, he began removing the gauze, fingers precise. The layers fell away, revealing smooth, unmarked skin. Jenkins froze, breath catching. There was nothing. No scratches, no trace of the glass cuts from the day before. He flipped her hands, inspecting every crease. The injuries were gone, completely.
Meanwhile, in the mobility wing, the second support column loomed near a parked military truck. Derek and Ethan approached it from above, scanning with flashlights. Crackling static came through Ethan's handheld radio.
Lucas's voice followed: "We're directly beneath the second column. Visibility's low, but we've got it in sight."
David added, "Same signs as the first. Hairline fracture at the base. Rebar exposed. Slight bowing."
Derek pressed the radio button. "Copy that. Checking the surface."
Ethan moved around the column, boots crunching over fine dust. "Uh… guys?" he said into the radio. "There's a crack up here too. Thin, running the same direction as the last one."
"Where exactly?" Lucas asked.
"Above the beam. The floor feels off. There's a vibration. Barely there, but I can feel it."
A pause.
"That's the third sign," David said.
Lucas added, "Crack below, crack above, and surface instability. It's aligning."
Derek crouched near the hatch. "You think it's spreading?"
Lucas's voice was steady. "It's not isolated."
David's tone dropped. "Stress fractures along the same axis."
Ethan gripped the radio tighter. "I don't know structures, but this place… it feels like it's holding its breath."
"That's not a bad way to put it," Lucas replied.
David: "We need to check the third column. If it's the same…"
Derek above finished, "Then we've got a real problem."
A pause, then Lucas: "Moving to the next section. Keep eyes on the surface."
The sublevel narrowed as Lucas and David moved deeper, flashlights slicing through dust, illuminating rusted pipes and cracked concrete.
"Approaching the third column. Stand by," Lucas crackled.
Above, Derek and Ethan watched the floor, unease growing. Ethan's grip on the radio tightened.
David crouched first, sweeping his light across the base. "Damn. This one's worse."
Lucas knelt beside him. The concrete crumbled slightly at the base, the crack wider than the others. Moisture darkened the surrounding area, and rusted rebar peeked through. "Deeper fracture. Moisture intrusion. Rebar's rusted through in spots," he reported.
David ran a hand along the base. "Soil's shifting. It's soft, like the ground's pulling away."
Ethan's voice crackled over the radio, tense. "Guys… a new crack just formed up here. Swear it wasn't there five minutes ago."
Derek leaned down. "He's right. Runs perpendicular. Small, but fresh."
Lucas and David exchanged a look. "Progressive failure," Lucas said. "The stress is traveling."
David nodded. "Not just one column. The whole wing's under pressure."
Ethan asked, quieter: "So… is it gonna collapse?"
Lucas didn't answer immediately. "Not yet. But it's moving. And if it keeps moving…"
David finished, grim. "It won't stop on its own."
Derek's voice came through, steady. "Get back up here. Talk to Jenkins. Now."
Lucas gave a last glance at the fractured base, then headed toward the crawlspace corridor. "Copy that. We're on our way."
The sound of boots scuffing against concrete echoed through the mobility wing as Dylan stepped in from the far corridor, tomahawk slung over his shoulder, a half-eaten protein bar in hand. He paused at the sight of Ethan and Derek crouched near the third column, focused on the floor as if it was speaking.
"Y'all lookin' for buried treasure or somethin'?" he asked.
Derek didn't look up. "Just checking something."
Dylan chewed slowly. "Seen David or Lucas?"
Before Ethan could answer, the hatch near the far wall clanged. Lucas and David emerged from the sublevel, moving fast, faces tight, steps urgent.
"What's the rush?" Dylan asked.
"I'll explain later—we need to get to Jenkins," David said, not slowing.
Lucas was already halfway down the corridor.
"Dylan! Come on!" Ethan called, jogging after them.
Dylan blinked, chewing, then tossed the rest of the protein bar aside. Adjusting the tomahawk strap, he muttered, "Ain't never simple with you people," and broke into a jog to catch up.
Boots pounded the concrete as the group moved through the corridor—David leading, Lucas close behind, Ethan, Derek, and a still-confused Dylan at the rear.
They reached the lab. Empty. David stopped short. "He's not here?"
Lucas scanned the room. "Was just here earlier."
Dylan shrugged. "If you're lookin' for Jenkins, he's in the main hall. Patchin' up Yve."
David blinked. "And you didn't think to mention that before we ran the whole damn hallway?"
"Didn't know y'all were in such a hurry. Thought you were just doin' laps," Dylan deadpanned.
Ethan half-laughed, half-huffed. "Come on, man."
Lucas cut him off. "No time to argue. Let's go." He sprinted, the others following. Dylan fell in step at the rear, still piecing together what was happening.
They rounded the corner into the main hall. Dr. Jenkins knelt beside Yve, carefully wrapping a gauze bandage around her palm. A medical kit and cotton pads lay nearby. Yve looked up, startled by the rush of footsteps.
"What—?" Jenkins began.
"We need to talk. Now," Lucas said, not slowing.
Jenkins rose slowly, hands faintly stained with antiseptic. "What's going on?"
Lucas didn't hesitate. He spread the blueprint across the table. "The foundation's failing. Three columns—cracked, bowed, corroded. The sublevel's shifting."
David stepped closer, voice tight. "Moisture intrusion, exposed rebar, fresh fractures forming as we speak. The stress is spreading."
Derek rubbed his jaw. "It's not just isolated cracks. They're aligning across the wing. The ground's moving beneath us—could be settling, could be something worse. The soil's soft, especially near the ocean."
A beat of silence.
Taylor's eyes widened as she pulled Tyler closer. "Wait… the ground's moving?"
Joan took a step back, voice rising. "You mean this place could collapse?"
The room shuddered beneath their feet. A low, rolling vibration ran through the concrete floor, subtle at first, then growing stronger, rattling loose panels overhead. Dust sifted down from ceiling corners, settling in thin clouds around the group.
Joan froze. "Did everyone feel that?"
Derek's eyes narrowed, scanning the walls and ceiling. "That's not machinery. The ground's moving—could be the sinkhole Lucas warned us about."
David's voice cut through the tension, calm but urgent. "The cracks, the bowing columns, the exposed rebar—they're failing faster than we estimated. That tremor just confirmed it: the foundation's giving way. And it's spreading."
Taylor clutched Tyler's hand. "How much time do we have?"
Lucas traced the sublevel's fractures on the blueprint, his finger stopping at a cluster of stress lines. "Minutes, maybe an hour at most. The soil here is soft—coastal fill, sand, and debris. Once it starts shifting, it won't stop. This could take the entire complex."
Ethan shifted uneasily. "The whole building?"
Derek rubbed his jaw. "If the ground keeps moving, yeah. Every wing, every floor—it could collapse in minutes."
Maurice clenched his fists. "Then what do we take? Everything?"
Lucas shook his head sharply. "Essentials only. Food, weapons, medical. Everyone else, stick to the evacuation plan. Fast. No dawdling."
Jenkins' face went pale. "There's nothing we can do?"
"No," Lucas said firmly. "The earth is doing this, not us. All we can do is get out before it's too late."
Another tremor hit, stronger this time. Dust plumes rose from cracks in the walls. The floor groaned beneath them, and the metallic screech of stressed beams echoed through the halls.
"Move!" Lucas barked. "Every second counts!"
The low rumble underfoot persisted, vibrations rolling through the corridors as the group moved with purpose. Dr. Jenkins sprinted to his lab, heart hammering. He swiped his ID, yanked open drawers, and stuffed folders, hard drives, and field notes into a weathered leather briefcase. A collapsible pushcart sat in the corner—lightweight, meant for fieldwork. He loaded it with microscopes, petri dishes, syringes, sealed blood samples, portable diagnostic tools, and all the notes and research materials he would need to continue studying the anomaly in Yve's blood.
He didn't pause. Every second counted. Pushing the cart, he raced toward the east corridor, every step shaking dust from the marble tile.
The warning still hummed faintly through the halls as the group moved with urgency. Dr. Jenkins sprinted toward his lab, his pushcart ready. He yanked open drawers, stuffing folders, notebooks, USB drives, and hard drives into the case. Microscope, syringes, petri dishes, plasma samples—everything he might need to continue his research on Yve's blood went in. The cart rattled as he loaded it with a portable centrifuge and a compact analyzer.
He didn't pause. The east corridor lay ahead, long and narrow, concrete echoing beneath his boots.
In the mobility wing, dust swirled around David, Maurice, and Ethan as they grabbed ammunition, rations, and gear. The reinforced doors creaked as they hauled crates toward the vehicles.
Dylan was already in the SilentHawk Hybrid, flipping switches and coaxing the engine to life. It purred, quiet and efficient.
Maurice slammed a crate shut. "We don't have time!"
Ethan climbed into the passenger seat of the second truck, checking the gauges. "We're good. Let's go!"
Engines roared, filling the wing with urgency.
Then the crack came.
Concrete splintered above the third column, dust raining down. A hairline fracture raced across the floor, branching toward the center of the wing.
"Move!" David shouted.
They threw the last of the gear inside and jumped into the vehicles. Dylan spun the SilentHawk, leading the convoy toward the east corridor.
At the corridor, Lucas scanned the path ahead. Jenkins arrived seconds later, pushing the cart with care.
"I've got everything," he said, breathless but steady. The cart rattled with tools, samples, and notes—the lab in miniature.
The corridor ahead was quiet except for their footsteps, but the building itself groaned faintly, a low vibration that traveled through the floor. Time was already against them.
The last crates were shoved into the trucks. Engines rumbled to life one by one, headlights cutting through the dust-choked air.
Derek shifted into gear and peeled away, tires kicking up gravel. The convoy moved just far enough to clear the danger zone, the VIRA Complex looming behind them, fragile and unstable.
A shriek pierced the air. Ethan froze. Shadows jerked at the treeline.
David fired, each shot precise, cutting down the nearest threat. Others followed, covering the retreat.
Lucas slammed the last crate into a truck bed and shut the tailgate. "Go!"
One by one, the vehicles roared to life and peeled away from the crumbling complex. The ground groaned beneath them, faint vibrations racing through the earth, a warning they didn't need to hear.
The VIRA Complex stood for a moment, silent but trembling, as if holding its breath.
Then the first subtle tremor hit, shivering through the foundations.
Dylan revved the SilentHawk hybrid. The engine hummed beneath him. "Yve! Let's go!"
She froze halfway onto the bike. Her eyes widened. Then, without a word, she ran back toward the complex.
"Yve!" Dylan shouted, panic clawing his chest. "What the hell are you doing?!"
She sprinted down the corridor, boots pounding on trembling concrete. She passed the main hall, ducked into a side room, and grabbed the small music box Dylan had given her, dust coating its silver surface.
Dylan burst in behind her. "You risked your life for that?!"
Yve held it close. "It's not just a box."
He didn't argue. He grabbed her hand. "We're leaving. Now."
The ground shuddered violently beneath them, knocking them off balance. The music box skidded across the tile. Yve scrambled to grab it as Dylan pulled her up.
Behind them, the hallway cracked open. Jagged fissures tore across the floor, chasing them like the earth itself was trying to swallow everything in its path.
Dust exploded into the air.
Dylan didn't look back. He pushed the SilentHawk to its limit, tires skidding over loose gravel as the ground buckled behind them. Yve clutched him tight, eyes stinging.
The SilentHawk skidded to a stop beside the others. Lucas gave them a quick once-over. "You good?"
Dylan nodded, breathless. "Let's move."
The group mounted their vehicles—trucks, bikes, the van—already idling. Engines roared, a chorus of urgency.
Behind them, the VIRA Complex groaned once, then collapsed. Concrete twisted, walls folded inward, and the entire facility sank into the earth. A plume of dust and debris shot skyward, blotting out the sun for a heartbeat. It was gone.