June worked as a field researcher for a U.S.-based private research company contracted to investigate geological anomalies across remote regions.
The sound of her alarm shattered the quiet.
June's eyes flew open, breath hitching as she stared at the dim ceiling above her. For half a second, she didn't move—then the clock registered.
She was late.
"Damn it."
She bolted upright and swung her legs over the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. Without hesitation, she rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Cold water hit her skin, stealing her breath, but she welcomed it. There was no time for warmth, no time to linger. She scrubbed quickly, mechanically, letting the shock clear the fog from her mind.
Minutes later, she stepped out, hair damp and hastily towel-dried, already moving again.
She dressed quickly: dark fitted jeans, a breathable long-sleeve shirt, and her light brown field jacket—functional, reinforced at the elbows, faintly dust-stained from past deployments. She pulled on her worn boots, fingers fumbling with the laces as she tied them just tight enough to hold. Her hair went up into a loose bun, strands escaping no matter how firmly she twisted it.
June didn't bother with a mirror.
In the kitchen, she moved on instinct.
She cracked eggs into a pan, the soft hiss of butter filling the room. Toast popped up beside her. She sliced a banana, poured juice into a glass, and set everything on a plate. It wasn't much—simple, quick, enough.
Noah shuffled in, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"You're up early," he muttered.
"Eat," June said gently, sliding the plate toward him. "I'll be back late."
He nodded, already chewing, still half-asleep.
June didn't sit.
She grabbed half a piece of toast for herself, took a few quick bites, and washed it down with cold coffee left from the night before. It tasted bitter, but she didn't care.
She carried the prepared nutritional feed into the next room.
The air there was different—quiet, sterile, broken only by the low hum of machines. June's mother lay completely still on the bed, eyes closed, skin pale against the white sheets. Tubes ran from her body to the equipment beside her, monitors blinking steadily, faithfully.
June moved with practiced precision.
She checked the feeding tube, adjusted the drip, ensuring the flow was steady and correct. She watched for a moment, eyes fixed on the clear line as the liquid passed through it, then glanced at the monitor to confirm everything was stable.
Satisfied, she reached out and brushed her fingers lightly against her mother's hand.
"Okay," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "I'll be back."
There was no response.
There never was.
June stepped away, swallowing hard, then grabbed her car keys and hurried out the door.
The parking lot at work was already alive with movement when she arrived.
June slowed, her chest tightening.
Her colleagues were packing up.
Large black equipment cases were stacked neatly beside rugged vehicles marked with the discreet insignia of the company. Tripods were being folded, drones secured, sample kits checked and rechecked. People moved with efficiency and purpose, voices overlapping in clipped, professional exchanges.
Field deployment.
Her pulse quickened.
She hurried inside, weaving past open lockers and half-cleared desks, and rushed to her workstation. Before she could even set her bag down, Kate appeared beside her, slinging a heavy backpack over her shoulder.
"What's going on?" June whispered.
Kate grinned, excitement shining in her eyes. "Field deployment. Geological survey."
June blinked. "Today?"
"Mountaintop anomalies," Kate said. "Seismic irregularities. Bio-signatures that don't quite make sense."
June's stomach flipped. She had only recently started working there. Field operations still felt new, intimidating—even thrilling.
A voice cut sharply through the activity outside.
"Pack up, everyone! We're heading out in five minutes!"
June looked up instinctively.
Joel stood near the vehicles, clipboard in hand. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his presence commanding attention without effort. His tone left no room for argument. Conversations quieted when he spoke. People listened.
Every female in the area noticed him—June included—and she couldn't help but wonder why workers seemed to drool over him, not just in their section but across other units as well. It wasn't only his looks. It was the way he carried authority so naturally, like leadership was second nature to him.
She shook the thought away.
This was work.
She grabbed her assigned gear quickly: a field backpack, a handheld scanner, camera with stabilizer, gloves, headlamp, and sample containers. By the time she stepped back outside, the team was already assembling.
They loaded into the vehicles and pulled out soon after.
The drive took them deep into the Appalachian Mountains.
The road narrowed as they climbed higher, asphalt giving way to rougher terrain. Dense forest closed in on both sides, ancient trees stretching upward, their branches tangled together like grasping fingers. Mist hung low, curling between trunks, swallowing sound.
The farther they went, the quieter it became.
There were only six of them on this expedition.
Joel led from the front, issuing instructions as needed. Kate stayed close. Issabel walked just behind Joel, boots clicking deliberately against stone. Bruno carried the heavier equipment without complaint, silent and focused. Two others followed. June stayed near the back, observing everything, absorbing the rhythm of fieldwork.
As they moved forward, Issabel slowed her pace intentionally, tossing her hair back, casting glances toward Joel. She edged closer, smiling—until she walked straight into a curtain of cobwebs.
"Ah!" she shrieked, swatting at her face. "Ugh!"
Joel glanced back, amused. "It's nature—embrace it."
Kate snorted under her breath.
Issabel huffed, clearly annoyed. As she stepped backward, her foot slipped on loose gravel. She gasped, arms flailing instinctively, clearly expecting Joel to catch her.
But it was Bruno who reached out.
His grip was firm, steady, catching her before she could fall.
She stiffened instantly and pulled away, recoiling as if offended.
"I'm sorry," Bruno said calmly, releasing her.
Issabel sighed sharply, muttered something under her breath, and walked ahead without looking back.
A few of the others chuckled quietly, the mockery subtle but unmistakable.
They continued on.
Cameras were raised at regular intervals. Rock formations were documented. Soil samples collected. Some of the team paused to photograph unsettling insects—long-legged beetles with segmented bodies, translucent-winged moths that shimmered faintly in the shade.
Then they passed a cave.
June slowed.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Spinning purple insects hovered near the entrance, wings vibrating rapidly, almost rhythmically. They shimmered, their movement unnatural, as if responding to something unseen.
June lingered.
She waited until the rest of the team moved ahead, distracted by Joel's instructions, then quietly slipped back.
Into the cave.
The air inside was cool and heavy. The entrance dimmed quickly behind her as she raised her camera and snapped several photos of the insects. She switched on her torch, the beam cutting through the darkness as she moved deeper, curiosity pulling her forward.
The cave narrowed.
The walls changed.
Then she saw it.
A tomb.
"Oh, baby Jesus," she scoffed softly, a mix of disbelief and awe in her voice.
She squatted slowly, brushing away dirt and debris. Strange symbols were carved into the stone—ancient, deliberate, unfamiliar.
"What is this… is this some ancient—"
She pulled out her phone, running the symbols through a translation app.
Her expression shifted.
Confusion. Unease.
"What does this mean…?" she whispered. "It sounds like a curse."
Her heart began to pound.
She dusted the tomb carefully, searching for more clues, her hands trembling despite herself.
Then she opened it.
Light burst outward.
The mountain trembled violently.
Rain began to pour outside as if the sky itself had split open.
June screamed.
An unseen force slammed into her, powerful and sudden, throwing her backward. Her body hit stone hard, consciousness tearing away instantly—as if something had pushed her from within.
The team heard her voice.
"June!"
Joel spun around and ran.
They traced the sound quickly, panic rising as thunder rolled overhead. Joel reached her first, dropping to his knees beside her motionless body.
"Hey—hey, can you hear me?"
No response.
He lifted her without hesitation, rain soaking through his clothes as the others gathered around.
"Come on, guys—we're heading out," Joel ordered sharply.
They tried to wake her.
She didn't stir.
The crew murmured nervously as they retreated, glancing back at the cave, dread settling in their chests as they wondered what had just happened.
Noah
Noah's phone buzzed.
"Uncle Smith" flashed across the screen.
"I'm outside," his uncle said when he answered. "Meet me in the car."
Noah climbed in moments later.
Uncle Smith sat rigidly in the driver's seat, hands resting calmly on the steering wheel. He wasn't a chatty man—never had been. Serious-minded, composed, the kind of person who chose words carefully.
"You've grown," Smith said after a long silence. "More than you realize."
Noah nodded, unsure where this was going.
"I've handled your father's company for years," Smith continued. "Alongside my own. Kept it stable. Kept it alive."
He turned fully toward Noah.
"It's time for you to take over."
Noah blinked. "Me?"
"You're capable," Smith said firmly. "Just like your father was. But you're not him—and that's a good thing."
Noah swallowed.
"Leadership isn't about being liked," Smith went on. "It's about responsibility. About standing when others won't."
Noah looked down at his hands, then back up.
"I won't waste what he built," he said quietly.
Smith nodded once.
"Good," he said. "We start tomorrow."