The red light bathed the room in pulses, like a heartbeat. The guard was lost in tunnel vision, too focused on external threats to notice the missing restraints. Ampelius used this to his advantage and moved fast.

  Like a flash of lightning, he wrapped an arm around the guard’s throat, pulling him back in a practiced, fluid motion. The man struggled, eyes wide with one hand clawing at Ampelius’ arm, while the other fumbled for his holstered weapon.

  The struggle ended with a sharp twist and a sickening crack. Ampelius let the body slump to the floor, holding his breath. Nothing but the hum of machinery and the distant wail of sirens remained.

  He leaned down and drew the sidearm from the dead man’s belt. With a quick glance, he ensured it was loaded and ready to fire. Suddenly, Casper’s voice slid into his mind. “More are coming. You’ll need to move fast.” His tone was cool and calm.

  Ampelius gave a slight nod and turned toward the door, prepared to move. He lingered for a moment longer, head tilted, listening for any sign of danger. The low hum of distant machinery pulsed through the walls, steady as blood in a vein. But he heard no footsteps. No voices.

  He reached for the handle and eased the door open, inch by inch, with his muscles coiled and ready. Cold air drifted in from the corridor, laced with metal and ozone. Ampelius waited another heartbeat, then slipped through.

  The hallway beyond was dim, bathed in the same red emergency light that pulsed overhead. He moved without a sound, eyes scanning both ends of the corridor. No guards. No motion. Just blinking lights and the hum of systems on life support.

  He stepped fully into the corridor, gun low but ready, his body coiled with tension. Whatever this place had become, it was quiet now. Too quiet. Then the silence shattered.

  A thunderous explosion rocked the facility. The walls trembled. Dust rained from the ceiling tiles as faint screams echoed through the halls, chased by bursts of gunfire. Casper’s voice crackled into his mind, dry and amused.

  "That’s the raiding party. Summoned just for you. Happy birthday, Ampelius."

  Ampelius raised an eyebrow. “Happy birthday?”

  For a moment, there was no reply, just a strange, flickering sound in his mind. Not quite a laugh. Not quite static. Something in between, like broken circuitry imitating amusement.

  Then Casper’s voice returned, cool and deliberate.

  “Today marks the day of your rebirth. The beginning of your crusade against Rome.”

  A pause followed, heavy and intentional.

  “The Asventi will be watching. Don’t disappoint.”

  Ampelius crept forward, keeping low and quiet. The corridor stretched ahead in dim red pulses, flickering like a dying heartbeat. Deeper within the facility, the chaos swelled as gunfire rattled through the walls, punctuated by panicked shouts and inhuman screams. Voices overlapped, thick with fear and confusion. Whatever it was they were fighting, it wasn’t dying easily.

  Ampelius rounded a corner, then halted. Ahead and to the right, he could hear the footsteps of Roman guards moving through a parallel corridor. Within moments, they’d appear and see him. He couldn’t risk it.

  Without hesitation, he slid back behind the wall, heart steady, breathing low. He didn’t fear them, he just knew it wasn’t the right time. Not yet.

  A flicker of motion beside him drew his gaze. Casper had begun to shift and unravel, reweaving into something smaller. Moments later, the hovering shape of a hummingbird took form, metallic wings buzzing softly as it stabilized midair. One luminous eye blinked in place of a head.

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  Without speaking aloud, Casper linked back into his mind—a tether of thought, sharp and cold. “I’ll scout ahead,” came the voice, fainter now, distant like a whisper carried through static.

  “Stay still. I’ll map their movements and keep you clear of surprises.”

  The hummingbird-form of Casper zipped forward and around the corner, vanishing into the shadows. The voices of the guards echoed off the walls as they cleared their sectors and pressed deeper into the facility. Distant screams grew sharper, more frantic with each passing minute. Whatever the others were facing, it was getting worse, and these men were rushing to help.

  Roughly a minute and a half later, Casper returned, pulsing green in a brief flash to signal all clear.

  Ampelius maneuvered back around the wall just as another burst of gunfire cracked through the halls. He moved quickly and low, advancing down the corridor until he reached a T-intersection. There, he paused, letting Casper sweep ahead once more until glowing another flash of green.

  Once clear, Ampelius crossed the threshold and pressed forward. The hallway narrowed slightly, lights dimming with every step. After several turns, he came upon a door, a half-shattered frame bent inward as if something had forced it open from the inside.

  He slowed, raising the sidearm instinctively as Casper slipped ahead, wings buzzing faintly. The drone’s eye flickered, scanning the room. A moment later, a flash of green mixed with yellow pulsed in the dark. Casper signaled: clear, but caution advised.

  Ampelius moved and pushed into the room, shoulders tense, expecting potential contact. But there was only stillness. And a creeping sense that something had just left.

  The lights flickered overhead in stuttering pulses. Tables were overturned. A coffee mug dangled off the edge of a counter, dark liquid dripping slowly onto the floor. A deck of playing cards lay scattered across the tile, mid-game. Everything suggested sudden abandonment.

  At the far side of the room, another metal door stood shut, but its surface scored with deep, jagged scratches. Not like bullets or debris. More like claws. Heavy ones. Ampelius stared for a moment. The marks tugged at something deep within his mind. Nothing logical. Just a feeling. Casper just hovered beside him, silent.

  Ampelius considered sending him through the door. But something in his body resisted. Not fear. Not exactly. It was like part of him already knew he wasn't meant to go that way. Not yet.

  The screams and gunfire had gone silent, stirring a sense of curiosity in Ampelius. The facility was quiet now, too quiet for his liking. Casper remained silent as well, hovering beside him. For a moment, Ampelius couldn’t tell if he was being guided... or observed.

  “Your will is your own,” Casper said within his mind. “You have the tools to accomplish your mission. But as long as you obey, you will remain at will.”

  Ampelius didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He knew exactly what Casper meant, and more importantly, what the Asventi expected of him. They weren’t just watching, they were inside him. Twisting through his thoughts, layered deep in his subconscious. Still, he felt no fear. Only focus.

  Confident, Ampelius turned from the claw-scarred door and slipped back into the corridor, continuing down the hall. The dimming lights overhead continued to flicker, and the silence was dominant. For now, he was the one making the most noise.

  Eventually, he reached a large metal door flanked by narrow cutouts on either side—observation slits, perhaps. A checkpoint, or something like it. The keypad mounted beside the frame seemed to confirm that assumption.

  But there was one problem, he didn’t know the passcode. Before he could act, the keypad chirped, and the lock disengaged with a soft mechanical hiss. Casper had already hacked it.

  "You're welcome," Casper said before Ampelius could even think to speak.

  With a turn of the handle, the heavy door creaked open as hinges strained with age or damage. Immediately, a bloodied Roman guard slumped forward, collapsing at Ampelius’ feet. His body was mangled and torn open, their limbs twisted unnaturally, pieces of armor hanging loose like shed skin.Then came the smell.

  It hit like a wave, very thick, wet, and rotting, as if something had died weeks ago and had been left to fester in the heat. Ampelius recoiled slightly, his nostrils flaring. The scent of death was overwhelming, but it was more than just decay.

  The room beyond was dim, lit only by a few dying panels overhead. A dozen bodies, all Roman soldiers in full gear, and all strewn across the floor and propped against the walls. Some were missing limbs. Others had no visible wounds at all, their expressions frozen in twisted, final moments of terror.

  Ampelius stared for a long moment, something cold tightening in his chest.

  Was this… the same squad he’d seen earlier? The group that had moved past while he hid behind the wall?

  If this was the same squad he’d seen earlier, the one that had passed him in the corridor, then they hadn’t lasted ten minutes. But what killed them? He scanned the corpses one last time. To him, it appeared as if none had even fired a shot. No one had time to react.

  Then, one of the bodies twitched. With a faint cracking sound that followed. Almost wet and unnatural, like bones grinding against metal. Slowly, the body began to rise. Not with strength. Not with life. But as if being pulled upward by invisible strings. Like a puppet on command.