The Forgotten Lab

The air inside the mine was different—thick, stagnant, untouched by time. Jessica had expected the scent of rot, decay, the usual markers of a place long abandoned. But this wasn’t a grave. It was a tomb—sealed, preserved, waiting.

Their footsteps echoed too loudly. Olivia flicked on her flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness, illuminating the rusted remnants of an old industrial operation. Steel tracks for mining carts. Walls lined with corroded pipes. Dust layered thick on machinery that hadn’t moved in decades.

Jessica ran her fingers along the stone, feeling the rough texture beneath her gloves. Something about this place felt wrong.

Leanna moved ahead, sweeping the corridor with her weapon raised. “No signs of recent activity.”

Jessica nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. Something was here.

---

The mine shaft twisted downward, deeper into the mountain. The old tracks ended abruptly at a set of reinforced steel doors, half buried in rubble. Vanguard had sealed this place, but not well enough.

Olivia knelt beside the control panel, brushing away decades of dust. The buttons were corroded, the screen shattered. “This shouldn’t be here,” she muttered.

Jessica glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

Olivia ran a hand over the panel. “This is newer than the mine. Maybe by a few decades, maybe less. Vanguard didn’t build this from scratch—they took over something that was already here.”

Jessica exhaled, the weight of it settling like ash. Lazarus wasn’t Vanguard’s invention—it was their inheritance.

Leanna stepped forward, pulling a pry bar from her pack. “Let’s get inside.”

With a sharp metallic groan, the doors gave way. The darkness beyond was absolute.

Jessica inhaled, steadying herself. Then she stepped inside.

---

The facility stretched deeper than she had expected. The walls were lined with old glass observation windows, some cracked, others smeared with the remnants of what might have once been writing, or something worse.

Jessica moved closer to one of the windows. The room inside was filled with desks, overturned chairs, old medical equipment. But no bodies. No signs of violence. Just abandonment.

Olivia activated her tablet, scanning the room for anything salvageable. “There are old research logs stored in the network.” She tapped the screen. “Some of them are over a hundred years old.”

Jessica’s breath hitched. Project Lazarus wasn’t a modern experiment. It was a continuation.

She stepped away from the window, turning toward Leanna. “Find what you can. We’re running out of time.”

---

They found him in the lower levels.

The room was small—bare walls, a single cot, an overturned table. The air was stale, carrying the faint metallic tang of old blood.

At first, Jessica thought he was dead. The figure in the corner was motionless, wrapped in a threadbare blanket, his breathing so shallow it barely registered. Then, as Leanna stepped closer, he moved.

Jessica raised her weapon on instinct. So did Yuki.

The man stirred, his face gaunt, his eyes hollow but aware. He looked at them, then at the ruined room around him, as if waking from a dream he had long since stopped believing in.

His voice was cracked, barely above a whisper., “… You shouldn’t be here.”

Jessica tightened her grip on the 1911. “Neither should you.”

He exhaled a ragged breath, his eyes flicking toward the hallway behind them. His expression darkened. “You’re not alone.”

Jessica’s pulse spiked. And somewhere beyond the rusted walls, something remembered it wasn’t alone.