"So, how was your day?" Claire asked as she stirred her coffee with a spoon. She was sitting at an outdoor table of the small café where they usually met after work.
"Quiet, as always. I fixed a couple of phones and helped an elderly lady set up her new tablet. I think she almost adopted me," Ethan replied with a carefree smile as he leaned back in his chair.
Claire laughed softly.
"You're too good with people. One day someone is going to kidnap you to make you their posthumous son."
"Well, if that means I don't have to pay rent, I'm in," Ethan joked, returning the laugh.
Claire looked at him with a mix of tenderness and curiosity.
"Seriously, Ethan, have you ever thought about doing something bigger? I mean, you have talent. You could work for a larger company, earn more money… Doesn't it bore you to spend all day fixing phones?"
Ethan shrugged, keeping his tone light.
"I don't know, I like what I do. It's simple, predictable. I don't have to think too much about it. Besides, I don't need much to be happy. I just want to live peacefully."
Claire nodded, but there was something in her expression that suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.
"I guess you're right. But sometimes I think you could do something more… I don't know, exciting."
Ethan smiled again, though this time it was a little forced.
"Believe me, I already have enough excitement in my life."
The phrase hung in the air, but Claire didn't ask further. They quickly changed the subject, talking about movies, weekend plans, and other trivial matters. To anyone watching, they seemed like a normal couple, enjoying a relaxed conversation.
But when Ethan got home that night, the reality of his words began to blur.
As he closed the door to his apartment, Ethan let out a long, heavy sigh. He turned on the living room light, but instead of heading to the couch or the kitchen, he walked straight to his bedroom. When he opened the door, it revealed a space that contrasted sharply with the rest of his life.
The walls were covered with newspaper clippings, maps marked with red pins, and handwritten notes. In the center of it all, a large printed photograph stood out: the Silver Ridge incident from two years ago. Beneath the photo, a line was written in black ink: "What really happened?"
In one corner of the room, on an improvised desk, there were three monitors connected to an old but powerful laptop. Ethan sat down in front of them, turning them on one by one. The first screen displayed lines of code running rapidly; the second, an interactive map of government servers; and the third, a command terminal where Ethan was attempting to access protected files.
He knew it wouldn't be easy. The security systems were advanced, designed to detect even the slightest error. But Ethan wasn't an amateur hacker. He had learned everything he knew on his own, driven by an obsession that had quietly grown over the past six years.
As he navigated the dark web, he found a clandestine forum where anonymous users shared information about unexplained phenomena. One thread mentioned a recent sighting of creatures similar to those that had emerged in Silver Ridge. According to the testimony, it had occurred in a rural area near the edge of the mist.
Ethan copied the location onto one of his maps and added a new red pin. Then, he opened another file on his computer: a list of names. These were people who, according to his research, had been involved in the investigation of Silver Ridge. Some were scientists, others military personnel, and others simply witnesses who had disappeared shortly after speaking publicly.
"I need to find something more solid," Ethan muttered as he reviewed the data he had collected.
In the back of the room, on a small desk next to the window, there was a framed photograph. It showed Ethan at 17, standing next to a 7-year-old girl who was smiling widely. They were in a park, under a lush tree. The girl was holding a blue balloon, and Ethan was looking at her with an expression of absolute affection.
That girl was his younger sister, Emily. They had been inseparable until she disappeared without a trace six years earlier. No one knew what had happened to her, but Ethan had a theory. A theory that had led him to become obsessed with Silver Ridge and anything related to the mist.
When he finished his nightly session, Ethan turned off the monitors and carefully stored the documents. He approached the photo of Emily and stared at it for a few seconds, as if expecting her to answer all his questions.
"Soon, Em," he whispered. "Soon I'll know what happened to you."
Just as he was about to leave the room, his satellite phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up quickly, surprised. It was an encrypted message from one of his contacts in the clandestine network.
When Ethan read the message, his heart began to race. He had been waiting for something like this for years, but now that he finally had something tangible in his hands, he felt a mix of euphoria and fear. His mind raced as he processed the words:
"We found something. We attacked the servers together. We gained access for 2 minutes. We downloaded videos related to Silver Ridge. They're blurry, but they confirm your suspicions. Destroyed towns, mutilated people, killed creatures. Military cleaning up the area. Be careful. This isn't safe."
Ethan took a deep breath before responding. He knew every exchange of messages had to be brief and precise. Every word could be traced if he wasn't careful.
Ethan:"Are the videos encrypted? Can we download them without leaving a trace?"
The response came almost instantly:
Anonymous Contact (Alias: "Specter") :
"They're already on your private server. We used a quantum tunnel to transfer them. They shouldn't be able to trace it, but don't get too confident. These files are dangerous. If anyone finds out you have them..."
The message was left incomplete, but Ethan understood perfectly what it meant. Keeping those videos not only put him at risk but also anyone close to him—Claire, his neighbors, even strangers. But he couldn't stop now.
Ethan:
"Understood. Thanks. Keep this off the radar. I need time to review them."
Specter:
"There's not much time. The systems already detected the breach. They're looking for the culprit. If they find anything that leads to you, you'll be dead before you can say 'Silver Ridge.'"
Ethan frowned. He knew Specter was right, but he couldn't just ignore what they had just obtained. It was the first real proof that Silver Ridge hadn't been an isolated incident. There was something bigger behind all of this, something involving the military, governments, and perhaps even secret corporations like Umbra Division.
Ethan:
"I understand. I'll move fast. Is there anything else I can use to protect myself if they find me?"
Specter:
"Only one thing: trust no one. Not even me. If they catch you, deny everything. Delete everything you have on your devices. And if they interrogate you... well, let's hope it doesn't come to that."
Ethan felt a chill run down his spine. The warning was clear: he was playing with fire, and if he made a single mistake, he could end up like Emily—disappeared, dead, forgotten.
Ethan:
"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep you informed if I find anything useful."
Specter:
"Do that. But remember: less is more. The less you know, the better for everyone. Good luck."
The contact disconnected, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts and the weight of what he had just received.
Ethan quickly returned to his secret room, making sure all the doors were locked and the curtains tightly drawn. He turned the monitors back on and opened the file Specter had transferred to his private server.
The videos were short fragments, recorded from strange angles and with terrible quality. Some were so pixelated that barely any human or creature shapes could be distinguished. But others were clearer, clear enough to make his blood run cold.
In one of the videos, a small town, similar to Silver Ridge, was shown completely devastated. Houses were reduced to rubble, and mutilated bodies lay scattered across the streets. In the background, distant screams could be heard, though there were no signs of human life in the scene.
Another video showed a group of soldiers dressed in advanced biohazard suits dragging corpses into black trucks without insignias. The creatures, some still alive but severely injured, were executed in cold blood with weapons that emitted a blue glow. The soldiers worked in silence, as if they were used to this kind of operation.
The last video was the most disturbing. It showed a huge, twisted, grotesque creature being surrounded by a dozen soldiers. The creature emitted a high-pitched sound that seemed to resonate directly in the mind of whoever heard it. Though the video was blurry, Ethan could make out something that made him hold his breath: the creature had black eyes. Eyes that seemed to look directly at him through the screen.
Ethan paused the video and leaned back in his chair, trying to process what he had just seen. There was no doubt these events were connected. Silver Ridge hadn't been an accident or a natural phenomenon. It was part of something much bigger, something someone was desperate to hide.
He knew he couldn't stay idle. Now that he had evidence, he had to decide what to do with it. He could delete everything and pretend he'd never seen it, returning to his "normal" life. But that would mean abandoning Emily, abandoning the truth, and allowing whoever was behind this to continue operating in the shadows.
Or he could move forward, risking everything to expose what was happening. But he knew it wouldn't be easy. Whoever was behind this had unlimited resources, advanced technology, and an army of men willing to kill to keep the secret.
As he reflected, his phone vibrated again. It was another message from Specter:
Specter:
"One more piece of advice: if you decide to continue, find allies. But choose wisely. There are people who are just as obsessed as you are. People who might help you... or destroy you."
Ethan put his phone down and stared at his computer screen. He knew this was a crossroads. A decision that would change his life forever.
Finally, he murmured to himself:
"Emily, I'm going to find answers. I promise."
With that, Ethan began copying the files onto an external hard drive, preparing for whatever came next. Whatever it was, he knew there was no turning back.