Chapter 04 Terrifying Truth

Time seemed to slow as Ichiban stared up at the descending claw, her mind racing. This was it. This was how it ends. Not in a final, desperate stand to save the world—but here, on the cold, crystalline floor of a facility that had become a tomb.

Just as the creature’s claw was about to crush Ichiban’s skull, a deafening gunshot echoed through the hallway. A flash of light followed, illuminating the grotesque crystalline form of the creature for a split second. More shots rang out in rapid succession, the muzzle flashes lighting up the corridor. Bullets whizzed past Ichiban, their sharp cracks reverberating through the air as they slammed into the creature with sparking impacts.

Voices shouted from the end of the hallway.

 “Take aim! Fire! Fire! Take it down!”

The creature roared, its crystalline body jerking violently as bullets tore into it. Chunks of red crystal shattered and flew in all directions, the creature’s form cracking and splintering under the relentless barrage. It turned its glowing slits toward the attackers, its guttural screech filled with rage. With a terrifying burst of speed, it lunged at them, its clawed hands slashing through the air.

But the armed team was ready. They stood their ground as they poured fire into the creature. The hallway was filled with gunfire, the flickering muzzle flashes casting grotesque shadows on the crystalline walls. The creature staggered under the onslaught, its movements growing slower and more erratic as its body was riddled with bullet holes.

“Keep firing! Don’t let up!” 

The creature let out one final, ear-splitting screech before its crystalline body gave way, collapsing into a pile of shattered red crystal. 

For a moment, there was silence, then, the soldiers lowered their weapons as they surveyed the scene. Ichiban pushed herself to her feet, hands trembling as she stared at the shattered remains of the creature. Its crystalline form lay in shards across the floor, reflecting the dim emergency lights like fractured glass. 

But within the debris, something else caught her eye—a core, small and yellow, pulsing faintly like a dying ember. Without hesitation, she reached down and snatched it, stuffing it into her pocket just as the rapid thud of boots signaled the approach of the security team.

"Dr. Ichiban! Any other survivors on this level? We lost contact with all twenty floors below. The upper levels are proceeding with evacuation. We came down to check the control room—personnel inside stopped responding. By the time we got here, half of my team was gone. We need someone with the authorization codes to initiate Code Red."

Ichiban opened her mouth to answer, but a new sound interrupted—a deep, metallic scraping. Her stomach clenched. The security team turned as one, their weapons snapping toward the source: the hallway where the blast doors had been breached earlier. The dim light flickered, and then—

A claw. Sharp, crystalline fingers wrapped around the corner, dragging something grotesque into view. A second claw followed. Then a head emerged, its jagged features reflecting light like a prism, its hollow sockets glowing with a malevolent inner fire. The thing stepped forward, talons clicking against the floor, its crystal legs unnaturally jointed.

Then another one followed. And another.

Ichiban's blood turned to ice as the hallway filled with shifting, glistening figures, each one moving with a slow, predatory grace. The security team barely hesitated before falling into formation, rifles raised, fingers tight on triggers.

"Dr. Ichiban! Move! Move! Move!" one of them bellowed. 

"Get to the control room! We’ll hold them off!"

She felt a strong hand grip her arm—Kaiju, injured but still standing. His face was pale, streaked with grime and blood, but his grip was firm.

 "Come on, we need to move! Security team will handle them!"

She didn’t need to be told twice. Together, they bolted, weaving through the dimly lit corridors as gunfire erupted behind them. The air filled with the deafening crack of bullets and the shrill, inhuman screams of the creatures. 

"Hold the line! Keep them back! Keep—AHHHH!"

A wet crunch. A scream cut short.

Ichiban clenched her jaw and forced herself forward, dragging Kaiju with her. She didn’t dare look back. She couldn’t. If she saw what was happening, if she let it register—

Another scream. A gurgled choke.

The control room was just ahead. The door loomed before them, a steel behemoth that promised safety, however fleeting. Ichiban reached out, slamming the override panel. A red light blinked. 

"Come on, come on! Open!"

Behind them, the gunfire was thinning out. The screams were not.

The door slid open with a hiss. They stumbled inside and slammed the door shut, hearts pounding. But as they turned around, their breath caught in their throats.

The control room was infested with crystals.

The furniture, the walls, the equipment—everything was consumed by a creeping, glass-like infestation. The once-pristine consoles were now grotesque sculptures of shimmering growths, pulsating faintly as if alive.

The room was dark, only illuminated by the flickering glow of surveillance monitors. The screens cut in and out, showing fragmented video feeds from the other labs and corridors of Helios-9. Shadows moved in broken images—blurry figures running, falling, being torn apart. Cracks spread across the screens as if the crystal corruption was reaching through them as well.

One screen showed a researcher crawling through a blood-slicked hallway, his body contorted in pain before being yanked violently into the darkness by unseen hands. Another showed a security officer firing desperately into the abyss before his body jerked unnaturally, crystallization overtaking his limbs until he became just another crystal statue in the corridor of the dead.

From another, broken monitor, came the audio—garbled, fractured, but unmistakably human.

“They’re… inside. They’re… everywhere. If anyone’s still alive… listen. These things… they’re mutating the tissue. I was… I was injured. I’m locked in Lab 944… I want to live… please, someone help me. I don’t want to die in this pitch-black room…"

A short pause.

"Wait… who is there? Please... help me... Who goes there?!"

Another pause.

 "No... no, stay back! NO! Aghhh!” The voice cut off abruptly, replaced by the hiss of static. 

The control room was a ruin, consumed by the relentless spread of crystallization. The walls shimmered with living fractures, pulsating like veins feeding a monstrous, unholy growth. The consoles were cracked, their screens shattered, their circuits strangled beneath the invasive mineral tendrils.

She slammed her fist onto the nearest table.

“God damn it! Now what?! The consoles are broken! The only option left is to do it manually, but the crystallization is everywhere! How is it even spreading so fast?! What are these creatures?! How could everything go so wrong?!”

Kaiju stood motionless, his head bowed, shoulders trembling under the weight of his own guilt.

“I’m sorry… It’s all my fault. My stupid mistake caused this mess. If I hadn’t flushed it down the drain, none of this would have happened.” His fingers clenched into fists.

 “All these people... all those screams… it’s my fault. I— I’m sorry. So sorry.”

Ichiban turned to him, her anger melting into something else—pity, sorrow, but also fear.

“None of this makes sense,” she muttered, shaking her head.

 “My formula… it was promising. The data was flawless. It was dormant for months, keeping the crystallization at bay. But now—this? This monstrosity? The compound was designed to be stable. It was supposed to react to water, but not like this.” 

Her voice cracked, her thoughts colliding violently.

“The worst I expected was a blown-out sink on failure, a small crystal formation at most—but this?” 

She inhaled sharply, her pulse hammering against her ribs. Then her breath hitched as her own words echoed back to her.

“Water…”

She turned sharply to Kaiju, her face draining of color. Her stomach twisted into knots as the pieces of a terrifying truth slotted together in her mind.

But before she could speak—

A burst of sparks erupted from the door panel.

The metal groaned, then screeched.

With a thunderous clang, the reinforced doors buckled and crashed inward, the heavy steel plate landing with a deafening clank at their feet. Smoke curled from the breach, the scent of burning circuitry stinging their noses. Ichiban stumbled back, instinctively raising an arm as the dust settled.

Through the gaping hole, figures emerged—dark silhouettes against the flickering emergency lights. One by one, they stepped in. Tactical gear. Rifles gripped with deadly ease. Their presence oozed control, precision, and something far worse—purpose.

Mercenaries.

Not military. Not rescue.

Hardened men, faces obscured by tinted visors, their armor bearing no insignia. Their leader, taller than the rest, stepped forward with the weight of command in his stride. His gloved hand raised a sleek PDA, its screen casting a pale glow against his visor. His voice was calm—devoid of any emotion.

“Dr. Kaiju. And... Dr. Ichiban?”

The two scientists exchanged glances, dread coiling in their stomachs. They managed weak, hesitant nods.

The man glanced at the device, eyes scanning through biometric data. A flicker of confirmation crossed his face.

“Identities Confirmed.”

Then he pocketed the PDA and spoke.

“Secure them.”