The night had grown eerily quiet as I stood by the curb, gripping my bag tightly, waiting for the tactical transport vehicle that Hana had promised would come. The cryptic messages, the threats, the revelation that I was being hunted—it all circled in my mind like a dark storm cloud. Every distant sound seemed amplified, and the shadows felt more menacing, as if they were watching me.
I checked my phone one last time, hoping Hana would respond again. The minutes dragged on, each one heavy with tension, until finally, a pair of headlights cut through the darkness. The vehicle approaching was sleek and formidable—an armored, military-grade SUV. Its matte black exterior absorbed the light around it, giving it an almost invisible presence in the night.
As the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of me, the passenger-side window slid down, revealing a man in military fatigues. His expression was blank, but his eyes darted around, scanning for threats.
"You're with Hana," he stated, his voice low and certain. It wasn't a question.
I nodded, feeling a wave of both relief and anxiety. The back door opened, and I quickly climbed inside, the cool, dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the eerie stillness outside.
As the door shut, the driver spoke for the first time, his voice calm and composed. "I'm Sergeant Kane. Hana's father sent me to make sure you get to the safe house without incident."
"Thanks," I muttered, still shaken from everything that had happened. The SUV smelled of leather and military-grade equipment. The dashboard was equipped with a digital display and encrypted communication devices, giving the vehicle a sophisticated, tactical vibe. Kane didn't say another word, his focus completely on the road ahead. The air was thick with silence—no small talk, no unnecessary words—just the steady hum of the engine as we pulled away from the curb.
I glanced at my phone, knowing I couldn't use it but feeling the weight of everything that had happened. I thought of Wilburt, of the Oculus Aeternum, of the dark secrets hidden in the university. And of the cryptic messages warning me that I was next.
As we navigated through the city streets, I couldn't shake the feeling of being followed. I glanced at the side mirror, and that's when I saw it—a pair of headlights, trailing us too closely. At first, it seemed harmless, just another car in the night. But the longer I watched, the more certain I became. They were keeping pace, their movements too calculated to be random.
"Sergeant Kane, are we being followed?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Kane flicked a glance at the rearview mirror, his grip tightening on the wheel. He didn't respond with words, but his actions were enough to confirm my suspicion. Without warning, he pressed down on the accelerator, the SUV surging forward, breaking away from the trailing car.
I held onto the door handle as we sped through the empty streets, weaving between lanes, taking sharp corners with ease. But the headlights behind us remained in pursuit, matching our every move.
"They're not giving up," I muttered, panic beginning to rise in my chest.
Kane remained calm, his hands steady on the wheel. With military precision, he maneuvered the vehicle through a series of side streets, trying to shake the tail. The tires screeched as we took another sharp turn, the car behind us struggling to keep up with the sudden changes in direction.
We cut through narrow alleys, speeding through the dark city like ghosts. I glanced behind us again. The headlights were still there, but they were beginning to fall behind. Kane made another quick turn down a narrow, nearly hidden street. The tailing car hesitated, momentarily losing us in the maze of alleyways.
My pulse was racing, adrenaline surging through my veins. "Who are they?"
Kane didn't answer, but the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know: they were the same people who'd been sending the threats. And they weren't about to stop.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of sharp turns and breakneck speed, the car behind us vanished from view. Kane continued forward, his eyes scanning the rearview mirror, making sure we'd lost them for good. He took a few more random turns, just to be safe, before slowing down.
"They won't find us now," he said calmly, his voice carrying the kind of confidence that only comes from years of experience.
I exhaled, trying to steady my breathing. The danger hadn't disappeared entirely, but for now, we were safe.
We soon reached the outskirts of the city. The SUV pulled off the main road, turning onto a narrow path lined with trees. The safe house loomed ahead—a small, unremarkable building that seemed to blend into the night. Hidden. Isolated. It was exactly what we needed.
Kane parked the vehicle and turned off the engine. He didn't say a word, just gave me a short nod, signaling for me to get out. I stepped into the cool night air, my legs still shaky from the chase.
As I stepped out, Hana emerged from the shadows, standing near the entrance to the safe house. Her posture was rigid, her eyes sharp. Even in the low light, I could see the seriousness etched into her face.
"You made it," she said, motioning for me to follow her inside.
"I didn't think I would," I admitted, feeling the tension still tight in my chest. "Is this place really secure?"
Hana nodded, pushing open the door. "No one knows it exists. My father used it during... certain operations. It's safe. But we don't have much time."
Inside, the safe house was as bare-bones as I'd expected. A few old chairs, a worn-out couch, and a dusty table in the corner. It didn't look like much, but the walls were thick, and the windows were reinforced. This place wasn't about comfort—it was about survival.
I dropped my bag onto the couch and looked over at Hana, who was already setting up her laptop on the table. "What do we do now?"
She sat down, her fingers moving quickly over the keys. "First, we figure out exactly what we're up against."
Her laptop screen illuminated the room with a cold, blue light. "You said you found something about the Oculus Aeternum being more than just an art project. Human trials?"
I nodded, walking over to the table. "There's an underground forum. People have been talking about it for years—students disappearing, failed experiments. The university is using them as test subjects, and Wilburt must have found out."
Hana's face darkened as she continued typing. "I've been following some leads myself," she said, pulling up a series of documents on her screen. "What you're describing sounds a lot like Project Aeon."
I frowned, feeling a cold knot of dread form in my stomach. "What's Project Aeon?"