Prologue
It started like any other day, out in the Nevada desert. The sun blazed down, a white-hot disk hanging low over the vast stretch of nothing. I'd gotten used to the emptiness. The isolation was almost soothing, the way the heat shimmered in the distance and swallowed up the horizon, like the earth just gave up halfway through its own sentence. Groom Lake was desolate, sure, but it was predictable. And out here, predictable was good.
Until it wasn't.
The crack in the sky happened while I was at the old construction site, fixing up the barracks—leftovers from some military project that never got finished. I was halfway through cutting rebar when the air split open with a sound I'll never forget. It wasn't like thunder. It was deeper, like the groaning of the earth, but coming from above. Everyone froze, tools dropping, eyes searching the empty blue above us.
Then it happened. Right over Area 51.
A tear, like a wound, jagged and black, stretching across the sky, the edges glowing with strange, pulsing light. At first, it looked like a storm—like the sky had grown so sick of itself that it split open out of frustration. But this wasn't weather. No, this was something else.
The crack widened, and then... things poured through.
I can still see it—clear as day—the shapes, the figures, the monstrous forms twisting in the air as if the laws of gravity and time didn't apply to them. Dragons, but not the kind you'd imagine; these were grotesque, skinless, with wings like leathery bags of sinew. There were other things too—centaurs, but their human halves were distorted, stretched beyond recognition, with blank eyes and too many arms. They came from the crack like it was their home, and we were just ants in their path.
Pandemonium followed. The ground shook, and the air seemed to vibrate with a high-pitched hum that buzzed in my skull. I turned and ran—everyone did—but there was no outrunning the terror that descended on us. Some people were turned to ash right there in front of me, not by fire but by some invisible force. Others screamed, running in blind panic as the creatures tore through the construction site, ripping apart the world we knew. I remember the smell—hot metal, burning ozone, like the air itself had caught fire.
I called out for him. My brother, Will. He'd been stationed nearby, working on a classified project at the base. I screamed his name until my throat was raw, but there was no answer, just the growing roar of chaos. I knew, somehow, that whatever had torn through the sky had taken him with it. And I knew I had to survive, if only to find him.
Two years have passed since the Blisting. The world? It's a wreck. Cities are ruins. Governments? They went the way of the dodo. People cling to life in the cracks of the old world, scavenging whatever's left while monsters straight out of nightmares hunt the desolate earth. Some of us have made it. Most of us didn't.
Me? I'm still here. I've learned how to hide, how to move through the dead cities, how to avoid the worst of the creatures. I stay clear of people when I can—what's left of them anyway. People are desperate. And desperation does terrible things to the soul.
I keep moving. Always.
Chapter 1: The Wasteland
I stuck close to the old highway, the one that used to lead south toward Vegas before it was turned into a wasteland by the Blisting. It was quiet, except for the wind rattling through the burned-out husks of cars. The sky was overcast, an ugly bruise of clouds swirling in the distance. There was a storm coming—probably electrical. That's how it was now. Nothing normal, nothing like it used to be.
I picked through the remains of a gas station, the walls covered in strange graffiti—symbols I couldn't make sense of, all spirals and jagged lines, like someone had gone mad with a spray can. The Blisted had done this. Humans warped by whatever energy poured through that crack in the sky. They weren't human anymore, not really. And it was best not to think about them.
My scavenger instincts kicked in. Canned food, batteries, maybe a weapon—anything that could get me through the next few days. I dug through the rubble, careful to keep one ear open for any movement. The creatures out here were fast, smart. They hunted in packs, sometimes. Alone, you didn't stand much of a chance.
That's when I heard it—a low growl, close by. Instinct kicked in, and I gripped my spear, the makeshift weapon always at the ready. I turned slowly, expecting to see one of them, one of those twisted things that used to be human.
But no. It wasn't that.
It was a hyena.
It stood there, half in the shadows, scrawny but alert, with fur the color of the desert sand. Its eyes gleamed, intelligent and sharp, and there was something almost... mocking about the way it looked at me. I tensed, unsure whether it was going to attack or slink away into the ruins. But then, it did something I didn't expect.
It laughed.
A low, eerie chuckle that sent a shiver down my spine. It was unsettling, to say the least. Hyenas weren't supposed to be here. They belonged in Africa, on the plains. Not in the Nevada desert. Not after the world ended.
The hyena sat down on its haunches, cocking its head as if waiting for me to do something. I lowered my spear just a fraction, unsure of what was happening. There was no way to predict how things would act these days. Animals had changed too—some of them warped by the same forces that had twisted everything else.
"Alright," I muttered, tossing it a piece of dried meat from my pack. "Here. Don't eat me, okay?"
The hyena sniffed the air, then snatched the meat with surprising delicacy. It chewed, all the while watching me with those bright, knowing eyes. There was something strange about it, something almost human in the way it observed me. It didn't feel like an animal.
"Well, aren't you a weird one," I said, more to myself than the creature.
It snorted—a sound almost like laughter again—and padded closer. Not attacking. Not running away. Just watching.
I thought about running, but something told me not to. Instead, I turned back to my scavenging, keeping an eye on the hyena. It didn't leave. It just sat there, tail flicking every now and then, waiting.
When I moved on, it followed me.
We traveled together after that. I didn't know why it stuck around—maybe it liked the food, maybe it liked the company. Hell, maybe it was just lonely, same as me. I called it Shepi, a name I half-remembered from some documentary about Africa. The hyena didn't seem to mind.
Shepi was strange—stranger than most animals. She had a way of watching that felt too intelligent, too calculated. And she never laughed unless there was danger nearby. I learned to trust that sound. When Shepi laughed, it meant something was coming. Something bad.
I was moving south, skirting around the edge of the mountain ranges that led toward Area 51. That was my goal. That's where I figured I'd find my brother, if he was still alive. Or, at the very least, I'd find out what had happened to him.
The desert stretched out in every direction, a barren landscape filled with jagged rocks and the occasional scraggly tree. But this wasn't the desert I knew. The Blisting had changed everything. The air was strange, thick with static, and the horizon never seemed to stay still, always shifting like a mirage.
And the creatures? They were worse.
It wasn't long before I got my first reminder of that.
Shepi's laugh broke the silence first—a short, sharp burst that echoed through the rocks. I froze, gripping my spear, scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. The air was heavy with tension, like the calm before a storm.
Then I saw them—two figures, slinking through the rocks about fifty yards out. Too far to make out clearly, but I knew what they were. Chimeras. I'd seen them before—twisted, monstrous things that looked like they'd been ripped straight out of some ancient myth.
They moved with unsettling speed, their bodies a patchwork of animal parts—lion, goat, serpent—all sewn together in a grotesque, unnatural blend. And their eyes—God, their eyes—were wrong. Dead and hungry.
Shepi growled low in her throat, her hackles raised. I tightened my grip on the spear. There wasn't any running from these things. If they wanted to catch you, they would.
I backed up slowly, trying to put some distance between me and the approaching chimeras. But Shepi had other plans. She darted forward, letting out that eerie laugh again, drawing their attention.
"Damn it, Shepi!" I hissed, but the hyena was already on the move, circling around the creatures with a speed and grace I hadn't seen in her before.
The chimeras turned their attention to Shepi, snarling and snapping their jaws as they gave chase. I didn't waste any time. I moved quickly, heading for higher ground, hoping to get an advantage. I reached the top of a small ridge and turned just in time to see Shepi darting between the two chimeras, her laughter echoing through the air.
It was almost like she was toying with them.
I didn't understand it, but I wasn't about to question my luck. I took aim with my spear, focusing on the closer of the two chimeras. It had a lion's head, massive and snarling, with twisted horns sprouting from its skull.
I threw the spear with all the strength I had left. It sailed through the air, striking the chimera in the side. It let out a guttural roar, staggering back as blood poured from the wound.
Shepi took the opportunity to dart in, her jaws snapping at the chimera's legs, forcing it to stumble. The second chimera turned, distracted by its companion's struggle, and that's when I saw my chance.
I grabbed a rock from the ground—heavy, jagged—and hurled it at the second chimera's head. It hit with a sickening crack, and the creature staggered, momentarily stunned. Shepi let out another burst of laughter, circling the wounded creatures like a predator playing with its prey.
We didn't kill them. We didn't have to. They turned and fled, limping off into the distance, their twisted bodies retreating into the shadows.
I collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Shepi padded over to me, her tongue lolling out in what I could only describe as a grin.
"Well," I muttered, "you sure know how to pick a fight."
She snorted and sat down beside me, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
I stared at the horizon, wondering just how much worse it could get.
ThShepi and I moved through the desert like ghosts, always on the edge of survival, always one step ahead of the monsters that roamed the land. The ruins of what was once civilization lay scattered around us—broken buildings, abandoned vehicles, and the skeletons of old highways leading to nowhere.
But it wasn't just the creatures that haunted the wasteland. The land itself had changed. The ground seemed to shift underfoot, reality warping in strange, unpredictable ways. One moment you were walking through the desert, the next you were somewhere else entirely—a twisted version of the same landscape, but wrong, like a reflection in a shattered mirror.
The first time it happened, I thought I was losing my mind.
Shepi and I had been walking for hours, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows across the rocks. I was focused on finding shelter before nightfall. That's when I noticed it—the air had changed, thick and heavy, like walking through molasses.
Then, without warning, the ground beneath me warped, rippling like water. I stumbled, trying to keep my balance, but the landscape around me twisted, shifting in ways that made no sense. The sky turned a sickly green, and the sun warped into a massive, swollen orb that hung too close to the ground.
Shepi let out a low growl, her ears pinned back, as if she sensed the change too.
I blinked, trying to make sense of what was happening, but nothing felt real. The air shimmered, and the desert seemed to stretch and bend, like I was walking through a dream.
Or a nightmare.
I stumbled forward, my head spinning, my vision blurring. The ground beneath me pulsed, and the air was filled with the sound of distant whispers, voices I couldn't understand.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.
The ground solidified beneath my feet, the air cleared, and the sky returned to its normal, washed-out blue. I stood there, panting, my heart racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Shepi nudged my leg, her bright eyes staring up at me, as if asking if I was alright.
"What the hell was that?" I muttered, wiping the sweat from my brow. But Shepi didn't answer—obviously. She just watched me, her tail flicking, as if waiting for me to figure it out.
The desert wasn't just home to monsters. It was changing, warping in ways I couldn't explain. And I had the sinking feeling that whatever was causing it was connected to Area 51.
I shook off the feeling and kept moving. There wasn't time to stop and ponder the mysteries of the universe. Not when there were things out there hunting me.
The next day, we stumbled upon an old desert town, long abandoned, its buildings crumbling and half-swallowed by the sand. It was the kind of place that used to be a stop for tourists on their way to Vegas, a little slice of nowhere that had been forgotten long before the Blisting.
But now, the town was something else entirely.
The moment we stepped into the outskirts, I felt it—a weight in the air, heavy and oppressive, like stepping into a graveyard. The buildings were covered in strange markings, spirals and runes carved into the wood and stone, glowing faintly in the fading sunlight.
Shepi growled softly, her ears pinned back, her eyes scanning the shadows. I gripped my spear tightly, every sense on high alert.
Something wasn't right.
We moved slowly, cautiously, through the ruins, my eyes darting from building to building, searching for any sign of life. But the town was empty. Completely still.
Too still.
It wasn't until we reached the center of town that I realized why. The air here was thick, heavy with something I couldn't quite place. The ground beneath my feet felt wrong, like I was walking on something that wasn't quite solid.
Then I saw them—the figures.
They were barely visible at first, shadows flickering at the edges of my vision, moving through the ruins like ghosts. I froze, my heart racing, my grip on the spear tightening.
Shepi let out a low growl, her hackles raised, but she didn't move. She just watched the shadows, her eyes narrowed, as if she could see something I couldn't.
The figures moved closer, their forms becoming clearer. They weren't human. Not anymore.
They were twisted, their bodies elongated and stretched, their faces warped into grotesque parodies of what they had once been. Their eyes were hollow, glowing faintly with an eerie, unnatural light.
Blisted.
They moved in unison, their bodies swaying as they walked, like puppets on invisible strings. I could hear them now, their voices—whispers, soft and unintelligible, like the wind carrying secrets from another world.
I backed up slowly, trying to put some distance between myself and the creatures, but they moved closer, their glowing eyes fixed on me.
Shepi let out a sharp bark, breaking the silence. The creatures stopped, their heads snapping toward her in unison. For a moment, everything was still.
Then they moved.
Faster than I could react, the Blisted surged forward, their twisted forms lunging toward us with inhuman speed. I barely had time to raise my spear before they were on me, their hands—clawed, elongated—reaching out, their mouths opening in silent screams.
Shepi darted forward, her teeth bared, her laughter echoing through the air as she circled around the creatures, snapping at their legs, drawing their attention away from me.
I didn't hesitate. I thrust the spear forward, catching one of the Blisted in the chest. It let out a soundless scream, its body convulsing as it collapsed to the ground, twitching.
But there were more. Too many.
Shepi was a blur of motion, darting between the creatures, her laughter growing louder, more manic, as she tore into them with a ferocity I hadn't seen before.
I swung my spear, catching another Blisted in the side, but they kept coming, their hollow eyes glowing with an unnatural light. For every one I knocked down, two more seemed to take its place.
We were outnumbered. Badly.
"Come on, Shepi!" I shouted, backing up toward the edge of town. "We've gotta move!"
Shepi let out one final laugh, darting back toward me as the remaining Blisted surged forward. I didn't wait to see if they would follow. I turned and ran, Shepi close on my heels, the sound of the Blisted's whispers growing fainter as we sprinted out of the town and into the desert. The answer is worse, its always worse...
Chapter 2: Into the Ruins
Shepi and I moved through the desert like ghosts, always on the edge of survival, always one step ahead of the monsters that roamed the land. The ruins of what was once civilization lay scattered around us—broken buildings, abandoned vehicles, and the skeletons of old highways leading to nowhere.
But it wasn't just the creatures that haunted the wasteland. The land itself had changed. The ground seemed to shift underfoot, reality warping in strange, unpredictable ways. One moment you were walking through the desert, the next you were somewhere else entirely—a twisted version of the same landscape, but wrong, like a reflection in a shattered mirror.
The first time it happened, I thought I was losing my mind.
Shepi and I had been walking for hours, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows across the rocks. I was focused on finding shelter before nightfall. That's when I noticed it—the air had changed, thick and heavy, like walking through molasses.
Then, without warning, the ground beneath me warped, rippling like water. I stumbled, trying to keep my balance, but the landscape around me twisted, shifting in ways that made no sense. The sky turned a sickly green, and the sun warped into a massive, swollen orb that hung too close to the ground.
Shepi let out a low growl, her ears pinned back, as if she sensed the change too.
I blinked, trying to make sense of what was happening, but nothing felt real. The air shimmered, and the desert seemed to stretch and bend, like I was walking through a dream.
Or a nightmare.
I stumbled forward, my head spinning, my vision blurring. The ground beneath me pulsed, and the air was filled with the sound of distant whispers, voices I couldn't understand.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.
The ground solidified beneath my feet, the air cleared, and the sky returned to its normal, washed-out blue. I stood there, panting, my heart racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Shepi nudged my leg, her bright eyes staring up at me, as if asking if I was alright.
"What the hell was that?" I muttered, wiping the sweat from my brow. But Shepi didn't answer—obviously. She just watched me, her tail flicking, as if waiting for me to figure it out.
The desert wasn't just home to monsters. It was changing, warping in ways I couldn't explain. And I had the sinking feeling that whatever was causing it was connected to Area 51.
I shook off the feeling and kept moving. There wasn't time to stop and ponder the mysteries of the universe. Not when there were things out there hunting me.
The next day, we stumbled upon an old desert town, long abandoned, its buildings crumbling and half-swallowed by the sand. It was the kind of place that used to be a stop for tourists on their way to Vegas, a little slice of nowhere that had been forgotten long before the Blisting.
But now, the town was something else entirely.
The moment we stepped into the outskirts, I felt it—a weight in the air, heavy and oppressive, like stepping into a graveyard. The buildings were covered in strange markings, spirals and runes carved into the wood and stone, glowing faintly in the fading sunlight.
Shepi growled softly, her ears pinned back, her eyes scanning the shadows. I gripped my spear tightly, every sense on high alert.
Something wasn't right.
We moved slowly, cautiously, through the ruins, my eyes darting from building to building, searching for any sign of life. But the town was empty. Completely still.
Too still.
It wasn't until we reached the center of town that I realized why. The air here was thick, heavy with something I couldn't quite place. The ground beneath my feet felt wrong, like I was walking on something that wasn't quite solid.
Then I saw them—the figures.
They were barely visible at first, shadows flickering at the edges of my vision, moving through the ruins like ghosts. I froze, my heart racing, my grip on the spear tightening.
Shepi let out a low growl, her hackles raised, but she didn't move. She just watched the shadows, her eyes narrowed, as if she could see something I couldn't.
The figures moved closer, their forms becoming clearer. They weren't human. Not anymore.
They were twisted, their bodies elongated and stretched, their faces warped into grotesque parodies of what they had once been. Their eyes were hollow, glowing faintly with an eerie, unnatural light.
Blisted.
They moved in unison, their bodies swaying as they walked, like puppets on invisible strings. I could hear them now, their voices—whispers, soft and unintelligible, like the wind carrying secrets from another world.
I backed up slowly, trying to put some distance between myself and the creatures, but they moved closer, their glowing eyes fixed on me.
Shepi let out a sharp bark, breaking the silence. The creatures stopped, their heads snapping toward her in unison. For a moment, everything was still.
Then they moved.
Faster than I could react, the Blisted surged forward, their twisted forms lunging toward us with inhuman speed. I barely had time to raise my spear before they were on me, their hands—clawed, elongated—reaching out, their mouths opening in silent screams.
Shepi darted forward, her teeth bared, her laughter echoing through the air as she circled around the creatures, snapping at their legs, drawing their attention away from me.
I didn't hesitate. I thrust the spear forward, catching one of the Blisted in the chest. It let out a soundless scream, its body convulsing as it collapsed to the ground, twitching.
But there were more. Too many.
Shepi was a blur of motion, darting between the creatures, her laughter growing louder, more manic, as she tore into them with a ferocity I hadn't seen before.
I swung my spear, catching another Blisted in the side, but they kept coming, their hollow eyes glowing with an unnatural light. For every one I knocked down, two more seemed to take its place.
We were outnumbered. Badly.
"Come on, Shepi!" I shouted, backing up toward the edge of town. "We've gotta move!"
Shepi let out one final laugh, darting back toward me as the remaining Blisted surged forward. I didn't wait to see if they would follow. I turned and ran, Shepi close on my heels, the sound of the Blisted's whispers growing fainter as we sprinted out of the town and into the desert.The place was like a tomb, filled with echoes of the past—only, those echoes didn't sound entirely human anymore. As we moved deeper into the base, the hair on the back of my neck prickled, and the faint hum of electricity buzzed in the air. This place was still alive, in its own twisted way. The Blisting hadn't just destroyed this facility—it had warped it. I could feel the distortion in the air, like the atmosphere itself was bending under some invisible weight.
Shepi's ears flicked, and she growled softly, her sharp gaze darting to a building on our right. I stopped, gripping my spear tighter, listening. There was nothing. Just the wind, and the faint creak of rusted metal in the distance. But if Shepi was uneasy, I had reason to be as well. She had saved my life more than once with that instinct of hers.
The base stretched out in front of us like a maze of ruined buildings and cracked asphalt. It was hard to tell what anything had been used for—their purpose lost to time and destruction. But I knew that somewhere in the heart of this wreckage was what I was looking for. My brother. Or at least, something that could tell me what had happened to him.
We moved cautiously, our footsteps echoing too loudly in the dead silence of the base. Every shadow seemed to shift, every corner seemed to hold a secret. The deeper we went, the more I felt it—that strange pull, like a magnet drawing me toward the center of the base. There was something here. Something powerful. And I wasn't sure if it was my brother, or something far worse.
As we rounded a corner, I spotted a large structure in the distance—what looked like a hangar, its massive doors hanging ajar, rusted and bent. Whatever was inside, it had once been hidden. Now it lay exposed, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this was where I needed to go.
"This is it," I whispered, though my voice felt too loud in the oppressive stillness.
Shepi's growl grew deeper, her body tense, her eyes locked on the hangar ahead. She knew something was wrong, but there was no turning back now. We were too far in.
We approached the hangar cautiously, the air growing colder the closer we got. The smell of ozone filled my nostrils, sharp and acrid, like a storm was about to break. I felt my heart hammering in my chest as we stepped through the open doors, into the dark, cavernous interior.
The hangar was enormous, its high ceilings lost in shadow. Rusted machinery and crates were scattered around, covered in layers of dust and grime. And in the center of it all, sitting like a monolith, was a massive, cylindrical vault.
The thing was ancient, far older than anything else in the base. Its surface was covered in strange, glowing symbols, not unlike the ones I'd seen scrawled in that warped town. They pulsed faintly, casting an eerie light that illuminated the hangar in strange, flickering patterns.
I approached the vault slowly, every instinct telling me to stop, to turn around and leave this place behind. But I couldn't. Not when I was this close. Shepi followed at my side, her growl now a low rumble in her throat. She didn't like this place, and neither did I, but we had no choice.
As I reached out to touch the surface of the vault, a cold shiver ran down my spine. The metal was icy to the touch, even in the desert heat. My fingers brushed the symbols, and for a moment, they flared brighter, almost like they were reacting to me.
Then, without warning, the vault let out a deep, rumbling groan.
I jumped back, heart racing, as the massive doors of the vault began to shift. They moved slowly, grinding against each other with a sound that sent chills down my spine. As they parted, a thick, black mist seeped out from the crack, curling through the air like smoke.
Shepi let out a sharp bark, her eyes fixed on the opening vault. I swallowed hard, gripping my spear tighter. I had no idea what was about to come out of that thing, but whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good.
The mist swirled and gathered, forming into a shape. A figure stepped out of the vault, tall and thin, cloaked in darkness. Its face was obscured by shadow, but I could feel its eyes on me, cold and empty.
"Who dares enter?" The voice echoed through the hangar, deep and hollow, like the sound of a distant storm.
I didn't answer. My throat had gone dry, and my mind was racing. Shepi was growling, her fur standing on end, but she didn't move. I could feel her tension, like a coiled spring ready to snap.
The figure took another step forward, its form shifting and flickering in the dim light. I could barely make out the details, but it wasn't human. It was something else—something far older, far darker. The air around it seemed to bend, warping reality in the same way the Blisting had warped the sky.
"You seek something," the figure hissed, its voice slithering into my ears. "Something lost."
I swallowed, my heart pounding. "My brother," I managed to choke out. "I'm looking for my brother. He was stationed here during the Blisting."
The figure tilted its head, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of recognition in its shadowed face.
"Your brother…" it whispered. "He is here. But he is not what you remember."
My blood ran cold. The figure's words echoed in my mind, filling me with a sense of dread I hadn't felt since the day the sky tore open. Not what I remember. What had they done to him?
"Where is he?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite myself. "What happened to him?"
The figure's form shifted again, its edges blurring as it stepped closer. "He is beyond the vault. But know this—he is not the man you seek. The Blisting has claimed him, just as it has claimed everything else."
The vault groaned again, its massive doors swinging fully open, revealing a swirling darkness inside. I couldn't see anything beyond it—just an endless void, like the space inside the vault wasn't connected to our reality anymore.
"Enter," the figure whispered. "Find your brother. But be warned—there is no return from what lies within."
I hesitated, my feet frozen to the ground. Shepi let out a sharp bark, snapping me back to reality. I didn't have a choice. I had come this far, and I couldn't turn back now. Not without finding my brother.
With one last glance at Shepi, I took a deep breath and stepped forward into the vault.
Chapter 3: The Guardians of Area 51
The moment I crossed the threshold into the vault, the air around me shifted, heavy and thick like I was wading through a dream. The darkness swallowed me whole, wrapping around me like a shroud. I could feel Shepi at my side, her presence a comforting weight against the overwhelming sense of dread that clung to the air.
There was no sound inside the vault. No echoes, no whispers, just a suffocating silence that pressed in from all sides. The only light came from the faint glow of the symbols etched into the walls, casting eerie shadows that twisted and writhed as I moved deeper into the void.
"Will," I whispered, though my voice felt small and insignificant in the vast emptiness. "Are you here?"
Nothing. Just that oppressive silence, gnawing at the edges of my sanity.
I kept moving, one step at a time, each footfall feeling heavier than the last. The vault stretched on, far longer than it should have, the space inside impossibly large, like I had stepped into a different dimension altogether. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching me, just beyond the edge of the shadows.
Then, I saw it—a flicker of movement up ahead.
I froze, heart racing, as a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in the tattered remnants of a military uniform. My breath caught in my throat.
"Will?" I called out, my voice trembling.
The figure turned slowly, and for a moment, I dared to hope. But then, the light hit his face, and my blood ran cold.
It was Will—or at least, it had been. His face was gaunt, pale, his eyes hollow and lifeless. Strange markings covered his skin, glowing faintly like the symbols on the walls. But it was the emptiness in his eyes that terrified me the most. Whatever had made my brother who he was… it was gone. He was a shell, something else inhabiting his body.
"Hal," he said, his voice flat, emotionless. "You shouldn't have come."
I took a step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. "Will… what happened to you?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. Behind him, the darkness seemed to pulse and writhe, like it was alive, like it was waiting for something.
"You need to leave," Will said, his voice eerily calm. "This place… it's not meant for you."
I shook my head, my grip tightening on the spear. "Not without you. I came to bring you home."
"There is no home," Will replied, his eyes locking onto mine. "There is only this. The Blisting… it took everything."
My chest tightened, panic rising in my throat. "I'm not leaving you. I—"
Before I could finish, something moved in the darkness behind him. A shape, massive and hulking, its edges blurring like it wasn't fully part of this reality. It stepped into the faint light, and I felt my stomach drop.
It was one of the Guardians.
The creature was monstrous, a twisted blend of machine and myth. Its body was encased in rusted metal, covered in the same glowing symbols that marked the vault's walls. But beneath the metal, I could see the sinew and muscle of something far older, far more dangerous. Its face was hidden beneath a mask, but its glowing eyes burned with an intelligence that made my skin crawl.
It stood silently behind Will, watching me with those cold, calculating eyes.
"You need to go," Will said again, but his voice was different now—urgent, pleading. "Before it's too late."
Before I could respond, the Guardian let out a low, rumbling growl, and the air around us seemed to vibrate with the sound. Shepi let out a sharp bark, stepping in front of me, her teeth bared, her hackles raised.
The Guardian took a step forward, and the ground beneath my feet trembled.
I had to make a choice. Run, or fight.
The Guardian took another step forward, its massive form casting a shadow that swallowed everything around it. The air seemed to buzz with its presence, a low hum that gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. My pulse raced, and for a split second, all I could think was that this thing was far beyond anything I could handle. It wasn't just some mythological beast—it was an abomination, a grotesque fusion of ancient horror and modern machinery. And it was focused entirely on me.
"Well, that's just perfect," I muttered under my breath, clutching my spear a little tighter. "Of course, the vault of horrors has its own security system."
Shepi, ever the brave little psycho, was still growling at the thing like she could scare it off with sheer attitude. I appreciated the effort, but I wasn't feeling too confident that her teeth were going to do much against what looked like a cross between a gladiator and a junkyard mech.
"Will!" I hissed, keeping my eyes on the Guardian as it shifted its weight, preparing to move. "You could help out here, you know!"
My brother—if I could still call him that—just stood there, his face an unreadable mask. His eyes, though, flickered with something—regret, maybe? Hard to say when your sibling's halfway to becoming a mythic abomination.
"You can't stop it, Hal," he said quietly, his voice strained, like he was holding something back. "It's beyond us. It's… tied to the Blisting, to everything that came through the sky. You need to run."
I glanced at the Guardian, which was now shifting its bulk toward me like a cat getting ready to pounce. "Run?" I shot back. "Where exactly do you suggest? The gift shop? The parking lot? Because unless you've got a map that leads to 'Exit, Stage Left,' I'm fresh out of ideas here!"
The Guardian's eyes—glowing orbs set deep in its metallic mask—locked onto me. It let out a low, mechanical rumble that reverberated through the vault like the growl of a god waking up from a bad nap.
"Okay," I said, forcing a shaky grin. "Guess we're doing this the hard way."
The creature lunged.
I barely had time to react, throwing myself to the side as the ground where I'd been standing cracked open under the force of the Guardian's charge. I rolled, coming up on one knee, the spear clutched tightly in my hand, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Shepi darted around the creature, her cackling laugh echoing through the vault like some unholy battle cry.
"Go for the knees!" I shouted, not entirely sure why—did this thing even have knees? Whatever. I was running on pure adrenaline, and apparently, that came with some questionable tactics.
Shepi didn't hesitate. She dove for the Guardian's legs—massive, metal-clad pillars that looked like they could smash through concrete—and latched on with surprising ferocity. Her jaws snapped, but the metal plating was too thick. She let out another cackle and darted away just as the Guardian's arm came down, missing her by inches.
Meanwhile, I circled around, looking for any kind of weakness. The thing was covered in ancient, glowing symbols, and I had no idea what they meant, but one of them had to be the magic "off" switch, right?
I found nothing.
The Guardian swung at me, its arm a blur of motion. I ducked, feeling the wind from the strike rush past me, and stabbed upward with the spear. The tip scraped against its metal hide, but it didn't even slow down.
"Alright, new plan," I muttered, backing away. "Try not to die."
I risked a glance at Will. He was watching, his face pale, but still not moving. Whatever he'd become, he wasn't willing—or able—to help. The sight twisted something inside me, anger rising up in my chest.
"Will, snap out of it!" I shouted. "You're still my brother! We can—"
The Guardian let out a bone-rattling roar, cutting me off. It lunged again, this time faster, its massive arms reaching for me. I barely had time to roll out of the way before it crashed into the wall, sending chunks of stone and debris flying in all directions.
"Okay, fine!" I growled, shaking the dust off my shoulders. "Guess I'll do this myself!"
Shepi circled the Guardian again, darting in and out like a dancer, her laughs growing more manic as the battle wore on. She was trying to distract it, buying me time.
But time for what?
Then I saw it—just for a split second, as the Guardian turned. A gap. Just beneath its arm, where the metal plating met the glowing symbols. A weak spot. It was small—barely the size of my fist—but it was something.
"Alright," I whispered, gripping the spear tighter. "That's my shot."
I waited, watching as Shepi darted in again, nipping at the Guardian's heels. The creature roared and swatted at her, giving me the opening I needed. I sprinted forward, the spear held low, every muscle screaming in protest as I pushed myself into a full run. The Guardian turned, its eyes locking onto me at the last second.
I jabbed the spear upward, driving it into the gap with every ounce of strength I had left.
The creature let out a deafening roar, its entire body shuddering as the spear pierced through the weak spot. For a moment, I thought I'd done it—I thought I'd brought the thing down.
Then the spear snapped.
I stumbled back, my heart plummeting as I watched the broken half of the spear clatter to the ground. The Guardian staggered, but it didn't fall. Instead, it turned toward me, its eyes burning with fury.
"Really?" I gasped, hands outstretched as if trying to reason with the thing. "That was my best move!"
It lunged.
I braced myself, but before the Guardian could reach me, a blast of energy surged through the air, slamming into the creature with enough force to send it crashing into the far wall. I blinked, my brain struggling to process what had just happened.
Will. He stood there, his arm outstretched, glowing symbols swirling around his hand.
"Go," he said, his voice strained. "I can hold it off… for now."
I hesitated, staring at him, torn between wanting to help and knowing that staying here would get us both killed.
"Hal," he said, his voice softening, "I'm not your brother anymore. Not completely. Whatever's left of me… it's tied to this place. But you—" He winced, the glowing symbols around him flickering. "You can still escape."
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Will…"
"Go!" he shouted, the force of his voice echoing through the vault. "Before it's too late!"
Shepi let out a sharp bark, nudging my leg as if to say, Time to move, genius.
With one last look at Will—my brother, or whatever was left of him—I turned and ran. The sound of the Guardian's roar echoed behind me as I sprinted for the exit, Shepi hot on my heels.
Chapter 4: The Vault and the Truth
I didn't stop running until I was out of the vault and back in the hangar, gasping for breath. The cold desert air hit my face like a slap, the sharp contrast from the thick, oppressive atmosphere inside the vault making my head spin. I bent over, hands on my knees, trying to get my breathing under control.
Shepi trotted up beside me, her tongue lolling out in what looked suspiciously like amusement.
"Yeah, laugh it up," I panted, glaring at her. "You're not the one who had to face down an ancient death machine."
She let out a low snort, her eyes gleaming with something that almost resembled affection. Or maybe she was just sizing me up for dinner. Hard to tell with her.
As I stood there, catching my breath, my mind raced. Will—he was still in there. Still fighting. And somehow, he had control over… whatever that power was. The glowing symbols, the blast of energy—it wasn't anything I'd seen before, and trust me, I've seen some weird stuff since the Blisting. But it wasn't just the power that bothered me. It was the way he'd talked, the way he'd said he wasn't my brother anymore.
That wasn't true. Not completely. He was still in there. I knew it. And if there was a way to save him, I'd find it. I wasn't leaving him behind.
I straightened up, rolling my shoulders. The hangar was eerily quiet now, the shadows long and flickering under the faint light from the symbols etched into the vault. I had to figure out what this place was, what had really happened here. The Blisting didn't start randomly. There was something about Area 51—something they had been experimenting with—that had caused all of this. And whatever it was, it had my brother in its grip.
"Alright, Shepi," I said, turning to the hyena. "Looks like we've got work to do."
She snorted again, as if to say, When don't we?
I started moving through the hangar, scanning the scattered crates and rusted equipment for anything that might give me a clue. Most of it was junk—old military tech that had been abandoned when the base fell apart. But there were a few things that caught my eye. Papers. Folders. Documents, half-buried under layers of dust and debris.
I crouched down, pulling one of the folders free and flipping it open. Most of it was incomprehensible—military jargon and codes that I didn't have the patience for. But there was one phrase that stood out, written in bold letters at the top of the page:
PROJECT OMEGA: Vault Containment Protocol
Beneath it, a diagram of the vault I'd just escaped from, surrounded by notes and annotations in tiny, cramped handwriting. Words like anomaly, rift, and dimensional breach were scattered throughout the pages.
Great. Just what I needed. More confirmation that we were dealing with something far beyond my pay grade.
But there was one section that made my blood run cold:
Subject Containment: Blisting Entities (Status: Active).
I stared at the words, my mind racing. Blisting entities. Was that what had happened to Will? Had he become one of these… entities? The thought made my stomach turn.
Shepi padded over, nudging my arm with her nose. I looked down at her, my chest tightening. "Yeah, I know," I muttered. "This is a mess."
But I wasn't giving up. Not yet.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just stumbled onto something far worse than I could ever have imagined. Project Omega. It sounded like some B-movie villain plot, but the words on the page were all too real. My stomach twisted as I thought about Will—about what they might have done to him.
Shepi circled nearby, her head tilted slightly as she watched me with those ever-knowing eyes. I almost expected her to say something snarky, like she'd picked up a thing or two after watching me bumble through the wasteland. Honestly, if she could talk, she'd probably have better plans than half the ideas I'd come up with lately.
"Don't suppose you have any bright ideas, huh, girl?" I muttered, tossing the folder aside.
Shepi yawned in response, then snorted, which I took as the hyena equivalent of figure it out yourself, pal.
I let out a long sigh, running a hand through my hair. The air in the hangar felt heavier than before, like the place itself was pressing down on me. It was quiet, too quiet, like the calm before a massive storm. The shadows seemed to move just at the edge of my vision, flickering in that same distorted way they had back in the vault.
I grabbed another handful of papers, my fingers trembling as I skimmed through them. Some of the notes were technical—way over my head—but I caught a few words here and there that made my heart pound in my chest. Dimensional breach, Entity hybridization, Chrono-distortion… they were messing with things they had no business touching.
A distant sound echoed through the hangar, low and rumbling. I tensed, looking around for the source. Nothing. But it was there, vibrating in the walls, in the floor beneath my boots. It wasn't the Guardian—it was something else. Something bigger.
Shepi was already on her feet, her fur bristling as she growled low in her throat. Whatever it was, she sensed it before I did.
The ground trembled slightly, and I heard a sound like grinding metal—a long, painful groan that filled the air. Then, from deep inside the base, a voice. Faint, barely audible at first, but unmistakable. It was Will's voice.
"Hal…"
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "Will?" I called out, my voice echoing through the empty hangar. I looked around wildly, my pulse racing. "Where are you?"
The voice came again, fainter this time, like it was being pulled away by the wind. "It's too late… you can't stop it…"
"Stop what?" I shouted, gripping my spear as if that would do me any good. "Will, what the hell is going on?!"
Silence. The kind that makes your skin crawl, like the world is holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen. Shepi let out a short, sharp bark, her gaze fixed on the far end of the hangar. I followed her line of sight and saw… nothing.
Nothing, except the shadows. They were moving now, not just flickering but crawling, creeping up the walls like something alive. Something hungry.
"Well, that's not ominous at all," I muttered, taking a step back. "Guess we should probably leave before the entire place turns into a haunted house."
Shepi barked again, more urgently this time, and I got the distinct feeling she agreed with me. But before we could move, the shadows coalesced into a shape—a figure, tall and gaunt, its face obscured by a hood of darkness. My stomach dropped. It was the same figure I'd seen in the vault, the one that had told me to find my brother.
Only this time, it wasn't alone.
Shapes shifted behind it—dozens of them—more Guardians, more of those twisted, nightmarish creatures that seemed to be pulled straight from the worst corners of my imagination. Their eyes glowed faintly in the gloom, and they moved with that same unnatural fluidity, like they didn't belong in this reality.
"Really?" I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper. "More of you?"
The hooded figure raised a hand, and the Guardians froze, their glowing eyes fixed on me. The air grew colder, the shadows creeping closer as the figure spoke, its voice a whisper that seemed to crawl into my skull.
"Your brother is lost," it said, its tone almost mocking. "He is no longer of this world."
I clenched my jaw, fighting back the fear that gnawed at my insides. "He's still in there," I growled. "I can save him."
The figure tilted its head, and I could have sworn I saw a smile—cold and cruel—beneath the hood. "Foolish," it whispered. "He belongs to us now."
Something inside me snapped. I wasn't going to lose him, not like this. Not to these… things. I took a step forward, gripping the broken half of the spear tighter in my hand. "You don't get to decide that."
The figure didn't respond. Instead, it raised its hand again, and the shadows behind it surged forward, rushing toward me like a wave of darkness. Shepi darted in front of me, her laughter echoing through the hangar as she charged at the oncoming threat. Her teeth flashed, her eyes wild with fury.
"Shepi, no!" I shouted, but she didn't hesitate.
She collided with the shadows, tearing into them with a ferocity I'd never seen before. But there were too many of them. They swarmed her, their twisted forms wrapping around her like tendrils of smoke, dragging her down. Her laughter turned into a snarl, then a whimper.
I ran forward, desperation clawing at my chest. "Get off her!"
The broken spear in my hand was useless. I swung it wildly, trying to cut through the shadows, but it passed through them like they weren't even there. They writhed and twisted around me, cold and suffocating, and I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
And then, in the midst of the chaos, I heard it again.
"Hal…"
Will's voice.
I stopped, my heart hammering in my chest. "Will?" I called out, spinning around, searching for him. "Where are you?"
The shadows parted, just for a moment, and I saw him. He was standing at the far end of the hangar, his face pale and gaunt, the glowing symbols still etched into his skin. But his eyes… his eyes were his again.
"Run," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "You have to run."
I shook my head. "Not without you."
His eyes flickered, and for a moment, I saw the pain there, the regret. "It's too late for me, Hal," he said softly. "But you… you still have a chance."
The shadows surged again, closing the gap between us. I could feel them pulling at me, dragging me down, but I couldn't move, couldn't leave him. "Will!" I shouted, reaching out, but he was already fading, swallowed by the darkness.
And then, with one last glance, he was gone.
I don't remember much after that. The shadows closed in around me, cold and suffocating, and I felt the world tilt, like the ground had fallen away beneath my feet. Shepi's snarls faded into the distance, and everything went black.
Epilogue: The Long Road Ahead
When I woke up, the sky was cracked open above me.
The desert stretched out in every direction, endless and desolate, the broken horizon flickering in the distance. I was lying on my back, my body aching, my head spinning. For a moment, I thought I'd dreamed it all—Area 51, the Guardians, the vault. But the taste of metal was still in my mouth, and the weight of everything that had happened pressed down on my chest.
I sat up slowly, my limbs stiff, and looked around. Shepi was there, sitting a few feet away, her fur matted and dirty, but alive. She glanced at me, her eyes half-lidded like she'd seen some things and had opinions about all of it.
"Guess we made it out," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. "Not sure how, but we're still here."
Shepi snorted, her ears flicking back as if to say, Yeah, and you're welcome.
I stood up, wobbling slightly as I tried to get my bearings. The hangar was gone. The base was gone. Everything was gone, except for the desert, stretching out endlessly beneath the fractured sky. The air was thick with that same oppressive feeling, the hum of static buzzing in my ears.
Will was gone. I couldn't shake that. But he wasn't dead. Not really. Whatever he'd become, whatever those creatures had done to him, he was still out there. And I'd find him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I wasn't giving up on him. Not after everything we'd been through.
"Come on, girl," I said, looking down at Shepi. "We've got work to do."
Shepi yawned and stood, stretching lazily before padding over to me. Her laughter—so familiar and eerie—echoed through the desert as we set off, the horizon broken and shimmering in the distance.
The world was still a wreck, still crawling with nightmares and horrors from beyond the sky. But we were still here. And as long as we kept moving, we'd survive.
At least… for now.
The End.