THE STORY CONTINUES.
Chapter 2 — The Fifth Floor: What Should Never Be Found
The air changed the moment Nicolas stepped onto the fifth floor.
It wasn't colder.
It was older.
The elevator doors had barely finished groaning open when every instinct in Nicolas's body screamed the same word—
Leave.
The stone corridor ahead was swallowed by roots—massive, twisted things that punched through marble and metal alike, as if the structure itself had been built after the tree had already claimed the place.
The roots glowed faintly, veins pulsing with a dull crimson light, like a heartbeat buried beneath centuries of silence.
Behind him, Dr. Elaine Carter tightened her grip on her scanner.
"This isn't possible," she whispered. "These roots… they're still alive."
Sergeant Morales snorted, rifle raised.
"Lady, if it's alive, we can kill it."
Nicolas didn't answer.
He was staring at the walls.
Symbols—no, not symbols.
Records.
Carvings stretched across the stone like a mural of extinction. Humans kneeling. Cities burning. Beasts standing upright, crowned in gold and bone. At the center of every carving—
An ape.
Not savage.
Not wild.
Regal.
Wearing authority like a second skin.
"Tell me I'm hallucinating," Morales muttered.
Dr. Elaine swallowed. "These carvings predate known human civilization… by hundreds of thousands of years."
The lights flickered.
Somewhere deep inside the structure, something shifted.
Nicolas raised a fist, halting the team. His voice came out low. Controlled.
"Eyes open. Safety off. Whatever's down here—this isn't a tomb."
They advanced.
Venomous creatures skittered across the floor—serpents with crystalline fangs, insects the size of helmets, their bodies marked with the same silver patterns etched into the walls. One lunged.
A gunshot echoed.
The creature burst apart in a spray of black ichor that hissed as it hit the ground.
Morales cursed. "That thing bled acid."
"And it was guarding something," Nicolas replied.
They reached the chamber.
And the world seemed to hold its breath.
At the center of the vast hall stood a wooden coffin—massive, monolithic, wrapped entirely in the roots of the ancient tree above. Blood-red fruits hung from the roots, each one crowned with delicate golden spikes, pulsing softly like living hearts.
Silver leaves—petal-shaped and razor-thin—fell slowly from above, dissolving before touching the ground.
The coffin itself…
Gold.
Not plated.
Not decorated.
Its body was pure gold, carved with patterns so complex the human eye struggled to follow them.
And surrounding it, pooling like liquid moonlight—
A strange silver substance, thick and unmoving, preserving the coffin as if time itself refused to touch it.
Dr. Elaine dropped to her knees.
"This… this is preservation beyond science," she breathed. "This substance isn't liquid or solid. It's… temporal stasis."
Morales whispered, "Please tell me there's not something alive in there."
Silence.
Then—
Thump.
Everyone froze.
Another heartbeat.
Slow.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Nicolas felt it—not with his ears, but his bones.
"Seal the chamber," he ordered instantly. "Document everything. No physical contact."
Too late.
One of the fruits burst.
Red liquid dripped onto the silver pool.
And the heartbeat… stopped.
The scanners went wild.
"Life signs—no, wait—gone?" Elaine stammered. "There's no detectable biological activity!"
Morales laughed nervously. "See? Dead. Super-dead.."
Jhon says a perfect museum peice.
Nicolas didn't smile.
Because he knew better.
They spots a hole in the ceiling the sunlight was coming from .
They used there remaining equipment and ropes to come out of the pit.
There communication devices started working again .
They called their team over and contacted the authorities.
Weeks Later — The Gene Preservance Museum
The coffin became the crown jewel.
The world was told a lie: a previously unknown primate relic found in egypt.
The truth stayed buried beneath layers of clearance codes and armed guards.
The Gene Preservance Museum stood as humanity's pride—every species cataloged, every genome archived, every evolutionary step recorded.
Except this one.
The silver substance had been drained for study.
The coffin rested under reinforced glass.
Cameras watched.
Scientists debated.
Visitors stared.
And inside the coffin—
Eyes opened.
Gold met gold.
The Ape King awakened without breath, without panic.
Memory flowed into him like a river breaking a dam.
He saw the world through data streams siphoned from screens, whispers stolen from minds too close to the glass.
Language reconstructed itself.
History unfolded.
Humans had inherited the world.
Apes were caged.
Monkeys were toys.
Animals were resources.
A low sound escaped his chest.
Not rage.
Disappointment.
"So… this is what became of them."
The glass shattered.
Alarms screamed.
The Ape King stepped out.
Not running.
Not fighting.
Walking.
Bullets froze inches from his skin, crushed by invisible pressure. Soldiers collapsed, pinned by a force older than fear.
He raised his hands.
Allowed himself to be restrained.
Allowed capture.
Allowed transport.
Because the tree was calling.
Above the Amazon — Midnight
The helicopter shook violently as the Ape King twisted his wrists.
Metal screamed.
The pilot shouted.
Too late.
He redirected the aircraft with a single motion, bending steel like wet clay. The jungle spread beneath them—endless, alive, familiar.
He leapt.
The earth welcomed him.
At the ancient tree, the fruits ripened instantly.
He consumed them.
Power flooded his veins.
Intelligence sharpened.
Authority reasserted itself.
Roots parted.
A hidden pathway opened beneath the tree, spiraling downward into an underground lake filled with the same silver substance.
The Ape King cut his palm.
Golden blood dripped.
The lake responded.
Statues cracked.
Eyes opened.
An army stirred.
And for the first time in a million years—
The Conquest resumed.
To be continued.