Dakari's arm throbbed with pain from the burns the slime had inflicted, but she ignored it, focusing on the uneasy murmurs in the lab around her. The air was heavy with tension, a mix of gratitude and suspicion from the students who had witnessed the creature's attack. Several of them approached, expressions a mixture of relief and concern. "Thank you," one of them said, a young woman with short black hair. "You saved us from… whatever that was."
Dakari nodded, still feeling the sting in her arm. "I just did what anyone would do," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. Her gaze drifted to the place where the slime had dissolved, leaving only a faint stain on the floor.
But not everyone was grateful.
A voice cut through the crowd, sharp and filled with anger. "She didn't act fast enough! If she had, maybe he'd still be here!" Dakari turned to see the grieving student, her face flushed with rage, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You didn't save him! You just stood there while he got… absorbed!" The accusation hung in the air, turning the atmosphere even more tense.
Dakari kept her expression calm, though her heart pounded in her chest. "I did everything I could," she said quietly. The student's eyes flared with anger. "What's your Index level?" she demanded, voice trembling with emotion. "What level are you?" Dakari hesitated, feeling the weight of the stares around her. "I… I don't know it yet," she admitted.
The student's face twisted with disbelief and fury. "You don't know your own Index level?" she shouted, her voice rising. "What is this, some kind of joke? The institute brought in someone without even knowing their Index level? No wonder everything's been going wrong since you got here!"
Her outburst sent ripples through the crowd. Other students began murmuring, casting uncertain glances at Dakari. A few seemed to nod in agreement, their expressions shifting from confusion to suspicion. "Yeah," one of them muttered, "Why would they let someone like that in here without checking their level?"
"I heard she messed up during synchronization, too," another whispered, fanning the flames of doubt. The crowd's unease grew, and Dakari felt a knot tighten in her chest. She could sense the distrust building, an undercurrent of fear and frustration threatening to pull her under.
For a moment, Serin's usual cheerful expression vanished, replaced by a cold, intense glare. Her eyes darkened, and her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "That's enough," she snapped, and the sudden shift in her demeanor was enough to make the grieving student flinch. "You know nothing about what's going on. So shut your mouth."
The grieving student stared back defiantly, but there was a flicker of fear in her eyes. Serin's outburst had been unexpected, and for a brief moment, Dakari noticed a subtle change in Serin—almost as if something beneath the surface was struggling to emerge. But then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and Serin's smile returned, though it seemed a bit forced.
Dakari, still sensing the tension, decided to change the subject. "We need to analyze the core," she said, holding up the strange, pulsating object she had retrieved from the slime creature. "Maybe it'll give us some answers about what's happening."
Serin nodded, recovering her composure. "Right. Let's start with the tools we have here," she replied, leading Dakari to a nearby workstation. She rummaged through a drawer and retrieved a small scanning device. "We'll see what this tells us."
As Dakari settled into the chair, she felt the sharp pain in her arm flare up again. Serin quickly applied a light layer of gel that seemed to cool and numb the area, allowing Dakari to focus. "This should help for now," Serin said, her tone gentler. "We need you functional if we're going to figure this out."
Dakari nodded, and they began scanning the core. Strange readings started to appear on the monitor—jumbled symbols, encrypted sequences, and distorted data patterns that flickered across the screen.
As the data streamed in, Serin leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "What is this?" she muttered, her voice filled with curiosity. "I've never seen code like this before. It's almost… organic, like it's alive or something."
Dakari stared at the screen, her mind trying to process the unusual patterns. The symbols were strange, seemingly random at first, but something about them tugged at the edges of her memory. Serin continued to vocalize her thoughts, almost to herself. "These sequences… they're not standard. This isn't just encrypted; it's something else entirely. But what?"
Dakari's eyes flicked over the screen, her brow furrowing. "I don't know," she replied slowly, her voice uncertain. The symbols felt familiar, but she couldn't place why. It was as if they were on the tip of her mind, just out of reach.
The sequences continued to scroll, and then one particular set of symbols flashed on the screen. They were arranged in a way that made Dakari's heart skip a beat. Her gaze locked onto the monitor, and she felt a strange sense of déjà vu, like she had seen this before, somewhere in the recesses of her mind. Serin noticed her reaction and looked at her curiously. "Dakari, do you recognize this?"
Dakari didn't respond immediately. Her eyes were glued to the screen as more of the symbols appeared, each one pulling her deeper into a foggy memory. Her surroundings began to blur, the lab fading away as the symbols became the only thing in her mind.
"I… I'm not sure," Dakari murmured, her voice distant. She couldn't fully grasp why they seemed so familiar, but something inside her was stirring—an old, buried memory fighting its way to the surface.
Serin watched her, sensing that something was off, but she didn't press further. "Strange," she said, still studying the monitor. "This kind of code… it's like it's trying to communicate something, but it's in a language I don't understand."
As the symbols continued to flash, something in Dakari's mind clicked. The room around her seemed to fade away completely, replaced by a different scene—a place she hadn't thought about in a long time. Her breathing became shallow, and the sound of Serin's voice grew distant.
Suddenly, Dakari was no longer in the lab.
Flashback – Memory of the Chimera Creation Protocol
The lab was dimly lit, the sterile air filled with the hum of machinery and the flicker of malfunctioning lights. Dakari found herself standing in a containment facility, surrounded by rows of glowing tanks and chambers filled with a thick, viscous liquid. Scientists in lab coats moved around her, their faces tense and focused. Voices echoed through the room, fragments of urgent conversations floating in the air.
"This is our best chance to create a successful hybrid… but the synchronization levels are unstable!" one of them shouted. Another voice replied, "We have to initiate the Chimera Creation Protocol. It's our only hope for full integration."
Dakari felt a wave of disgust rise within her. She recognized this place, this moment. It was a memory she had long tried to forget—a place she hated. She shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. "This isn't what I signed up for! You're creating monsters—abominations!"
The scientists barely acknowledged her, continuing with their work. Frustration burned in Dakari's chest. She raised her voice, more defiant this time. "My mother would never approve of this! She'd put an end to it right now!"
At the mention of her mother, one of the lead researchers, a man with a stern face and sharp eyes, sneered. "Your mother? She designed half of these protocols herself. Besides, you're hardly in a position to speak about 'monsters,' are you, Dakari?"
His words struck her like a blow, and for a moment, she was thrown off-balance. What did he mean by that? Was there something about her… something she didn't know?
But there was no time to dwell on it.
Alarms began blaring, and the containment chamber at the center of the room started to shake violently. The liquid inside churned and bubbled, glowing brighter and brighter, and cracks began to appear on the chamber walls.
The figure inside the chamber began to mutate, its form twisting into something unnatural, monstrous—just like the slime creature she had fought moments ago. Its eyes glowed an eerie purple, and it thrashed against the glass.
Dakari's heart raced as she felt a surge of urgency. She had to do something. Her hand hovered over the console, filled with controls and commands. She felt the weight of a critical choice pressing down on her.
With a burst of anger and determination, she slammed her fist on the button labeled "Abort Protocol." The alarms screamed louder, and everything around her seemed to blur as the flashback ended.
Back in the Present
Dakari's vision snapped back to the present with a jolt as she felt her fingers dig into the edge of the workstation. Her heart pounded in her chest, breaths shallow and uneven, as fragments of the memory swirled in her mind. The faint hum of the lab machinery and the cool metal beneath her hands slowly brought her back to the present moment.
She blinked a few times, trying to steady herself. Serin, who had been watching closely, noticed Dakari's sudden change in demeanor. "Dakari?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "Are you okay? You looked… distant for a moment."
Dakari's thoughts raced, fragments of the past and present colliding in her mind. She fought to keep her expression neutral, aware of the eyes on her. Her gaze dropped to her hands, noticing how tightly they gripped the edge of the workstation. "I… I'm fine," she finally whispered, though her voice carried an undertone of uncertainty that didn't convince anyone, least of all herself.
Before Serin could press further, the lab door slid open, and Instructor Vale hurried in. His eyes scanned the room quickly, taking in the tense faces of the students, the smell of acid in the air, and the splattered remains of the slime creature. He looked sharply at Dakari and Serin, noticing the device in their hands scanning the strange core.
"What's going on here?" Vale demanded, his voice cutting through the tense silence. He glanced around the lab, his expression a mix of concern and irritation. "I got a notification from the NIS System about an anomaly in this lab. Someone explain what happened."
The grieving student, still trembling with emotion, seized the opportunity. "She happened!" she shouted, pointing accusingly at Dakari. "She's hiding something! The mechs won't sync with her, and now this! She knows more than she's saying, and it's putting all of us in danger!" A few other students nodded, their murmurs growing louder. "Yeah, she doesn't even know her Index level… What's she doing here?"
Vale's gaze shifted to Dakari, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Is this true?" he asked, his tone neutral but probing. "Do you know anything about the anomalies or the slimes?" Before Dakari could respond, Serin stepped forward, her expression calm but firm. "We were just trying to understand the threat better, Instructor," she said smoothly. "The core is giving off strange data… we thought it might help us figure out what's going on."
Vale's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "Strange data?" he echoed, moving closer but keeping his distance from the screen, as if wary of what might appear. "Show me," he added, his voice carrying a note of tension that hadn't been there before. He glanced at the encrypted sequences still flickering on the screen but didn't give any direct indication of recognition.
The grieving student pressed on, her voice growing louder. "It's because of her!" she insisted. "Everything started going wrong when she got here. The mechs, the glitches, the slime—it's all connected to her!"
The tension in the room was palpable, and Vale could sense the unease spreading among the students. He took a deep breath, then spoke in a measured tone. "That's enough," he said, his voice authoritative. "We don't know what's causing these incidents, but jumping to conclusions won't help anyone." He turned his attention back to Serin and Dakari, his expression ambiguous. "Whatever you're doing, stop," he continued, his tone firm.
Serin tilted her head, her curiosity piqued but her tone measured. "But why stop now, Instructor?" she asked lightly, her expression one of genuine curiosity. "It's not every day we stumble onto something like this. Surely, a little more exploration won't hurt?"
She gestured at the monitor, where the symbols and sequences continued to flash. But just as she spoke, the screen flickered, and the scan abruptly stopped, displaying an error code. "ERROR 21-42: DATA CORRUPTION. TERMINATED."
Serin frowned, a look of frustration crossing her face. "What the—? It was just working a moment ago." She leaned in closer, her eyes scanning the screen, and then she noticed something—a single line of code flashing at the bottom of the display.
"Callback Ping User: GRex."
She muttered the line aloud, her brow furrowing. "Callback Ping User… GRex?" She glanced at Dakari, who seemed to flinch slightly at the mention of the name. There was something about it that tickled at the edges of her memory, like an old song she couldn't quite place.
Dakari couldn't fully recall why it felt familiar, but her eyes darted over to Vale, catching a slight change in his expression. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but his composed demeanor remained intact. He quickly blinked it away, maintaining a neutral expression.
"It's nothing to worry about," Vale said, dismissing the line of code with a wave of his hand. However, a slight edge crept into his voice, betraying a hint of unease. "A random user tag, nothing more. Move on."
Serin wasn't so easily satisfied. "A random user tag?" she repeated with a slight, almost mocking tilt of her head. Her eyes bore into Vale, searching for any sign of discomfort. "And the error code… so conveniently timed, right when we were on the verge of a breakthrough. Strange, don't you think, Instructor Vale?" Vale hesitated, clearly searching for the right words. "It could be a glitch," he suggested, trying to sound nonchalant. "The system has been… unpredictable lately."
"A glitch?" Serin echoed softly, but with a skeptical edge. "An unpredictable system… or maybe someone doesn't want us looking too closely. Which is it, Instructor? Because it feels like we're being kept in the dark about something important."
Vale's composure seemed to crack for just a moment. "Everyone, out—now," he commanded sharply, his voice harder than before, leaving no room for questions. His gaze swept across the room, ensuring every student moved swiftly toward the exit, his eyes lingering a bit longer on Dakari and Serin, as if trying to gauge their reactions.
The students, still shaken from the earlier events, hesitated for a moment before they began to file out, their whispers of fear and suspicion trailing behind them. The grieving student shot one last glare at Dakari before being gently nudged out by a friend.
Once the lab was cleared, Vale moved to the control panel by the door and activated a security protocol. The door slid shut with a soft hiss, and a faint hum filled the air as the room's security systems engaged, sealing them inside. "The room is secure," he said.
Serin stepped forward, her expression thoughtful but with a hint of challenge. "Instructor Vale," she began, her voice sharp yet composed, "again, why should we stop? We're getting results. Look—there's something significant here, something worth investigating."
Vale's eyes flicked to the monitor, where the error message still blinked. He hesitated for a moment. "This is beyond your clearance, Serin," he replied, keeping his tone neutral. "It's not your place to dig into these matters."
Serin's tone got sharper, pressing Vale for answers. "It's not my place?" she shot back, a slight, mocking grin appearing. "Funny how it's never our place when things start going sideways. Almost as if someone is scared of what we might find." she said with a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Dr. Ishikawa has trusted me with far more delicate matters. I'm sure he'd agree that understanding this 'GRex' tag is crucial. You can't expect me to ignore it."
Vale's face remained calm, but his eyes hardened slightly. "GRex is… an old user tag," he said vaguely. "It's not relevant to your current studies." Serin didn't relent. "Not relevant?" she pressed, her voice growing sharper. "It showed up right when the scan stopped. And don't pretend it's just a coincidence that these glitches have been happening all week. If there's something you know, something that connects these anomalies, I deserve to know. I'm a scientist for crying out loud, and a real fucking good one at that. You know that better than anyone, Instructor Vale. So why all this evasiveness? What is it you're really trying to hide?""
Vale's expression tightened, and for a brief moment, he seemed almost defensive. "Serin," he said slowly, "there are things you don't understand—things that are kept classified for a reason." Serin gave a slight smirk, her gaze unwavering. "Oh, I understand secrecy very well," she replied coolly. "But don't you think it's dangerous to keep us in the dark when we're the ones at risk?"
Vale sighed, realizing she wouldn't back down easily. "Look," he said, attempting to remain composed, "You know Dr. Ishikawa. He is one of the most knowledgeable researchers on the NIS System. He's been working on it since its newest OS update. If anyone can make sense of these anomalies, it's him. But his work is highly classified, and access to it must be strictly controlled." Serin nodded, though there was a subtle edge to her expression. "Then why all the obfuscation, Instructor?" she pressed, leaning forward slightly. "Why can't I speak to him directly? Unless, of course, there's something more here that you're not telling us—something you'd rather keep buried?"
Vale's gaze flickered momentarily, betraying a hint of annoyance. "You know the rules, Serin," he said firmly. "No more shortcuts. Follow the protocol." Serin's eyes narrowed, and for a second, something dark and calculating flashed across her face before she smiled politely. "Naturally, Instructor," she agreed, her tone syrupy with false politeness. "We wouldn't want to step on any toes, now, would we? Especially when it seems there are secrets worth hiding." she said with a hint of mock compliance.
"We'll play by the rules… this time, but don't expect me to sit back if this keeps happening, Instructor." she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips, her tone deceptively cooperative. Vale didn't seem entirely convinced by her response but chose not to push further. "Good," he said.
Dakari, who had been observing the exchange, sensed a subtle tension between them—something more than just a mentor-student disagreement. She felt the questions stacking up in her mind but decided to remain silent for now, letting Serin handle the confrontation.
As Vale finished speaking, he turned to the door, signaling the end of their conversation. "Now, both of you, leave this lab and head to the main office to request a meeting with Dr. Ishikawa. Follow the procedures, no more unauthorized investigations."
As Dakari and Serin prepared to leave the lab, the line "Callback Ping User: GRex" continued to echo in Dakari's mind. She felt a renewed sense of urgency and a deeper fear. Whatever these creatures were, and whatever her connection to them, she needed answers—and soon.
"Let's go," Serin finally said, her voice steady but with a hidden undertone of determination. "We'll find out what this is… and who's behind it." Dakari nodded, still feeling the sting of the scientist's words from her memory and now the cryptic username. She wasn't sure what was happening or what she might discover, but she knew one thing: she wasn't going to let these questions go unanswered.
Together, they left the lab, the mystery far from solved, and the sense of unease growing stronger with every step.