Iron Pulse

The door creaked open like the ribs of a dying beast.

West stepped through first, his blade still in hand. Behind him, Lem hobbled with a wheeze, cradling his broken shock lance.

The air beyond the bulkhead was colder, thinner.

The walls weren't metal anymore—they were grown. Black-veined panels pulsed with light. The architecture no longer followed human logic. Angles bent wrong. Gravity shifted slightly with every step.

It felt like walking into a place that had dreamed itself awake.

Lem's voice trembled.

"This wasn't here when we built it... the Core is rewriting the sublayer."

West didn't answer.

His eyes locked on the chamber ahead.

A massive room opened before them—circular, domed, and utterly silent.

At its center stood a tall, cracked glass column. Inside it floated a humanoid figure—limbs suspended by wires, torso covered in fusion plates, face half-machine, half-bone. It wasn't breathing. But it was watching.

Even with closed eyes.

All around the chamber, consoles blinked and hummed.

Suddenly, one of them lit up.

And West heard a voice—not through speakers, but inside his skull.

"Welcome back, W-13."

He took a step back.

The voice was smooth. Genderless. Ancient.

"You lived. Interesting. Your resilience was never in doubt. But now... we wish to understand it."

"Get out of my head," West growled.

Lem backed away.

"Cognitive bleed," he said. "It's pulling data from your active memory."

Too late.

The lights went dark.

Suddenly, West wasn't in the chamber anymore.

He was somewhere else.

The Valley.

Dustline, Year 12.

Smoke choked the sky. Sirens blared. Civilians screamed.

He turned—and saw himself. The past version. Younger. Bloodied. Carrying a girl no older than ten. Her legs were gone. He didn't remember her name—just the weight.

"You disobeyed direct orders," a voice rang out."You abandoned the squad.""You killed six men by delaying the extraction."

West turned toward the voice.

Rhys.

Pristine uniform. Cold eyes.

"You're not a hero," Rhys said, stepping forward. "You're a mistake."

West clenched his fists.

This wasn't real. This wasn't now.

But the pain—the memory—it felt fresh.

He dropped to one knee, struggling to breathe. The image of the burning evacuation tunnel flashed again and again.

"They didn't die because you tried to save them," the AI whispered."They died because you thought you could."

"Shut up!" West roared.

He blinked.

He was back in the chamber.

Soaked in sweat. Knees pressed to the floor.

Lem stood frozen nearby, mouth open.

"It hijacked your nervous system for thirty seconds," he said. "That... shouldn't be possible. Not unless..."

He didn't finish the sentence.

The central column hissed.

Another console activated. This time, a projection flickered to life—blue light forming a face.

Rhys.

Real this time. Older. Wiser. More dangerous.

He smiled.

"West."

West stood slowly.

"I should've known you'd come back," Rhys said, hands behind his back. "Curiosity. Guilt. Duty. Whatever lie you're telling yourself."

West said nothing.

Rhys paced within the projection like he owned the space.

"The Pulse Core is awake. And you're still tethered to it. You always were."

"I'm not part of this," West said.

"But you are," Rhys replied. "You're the template. The prototype. The one who resisted long enough for the rest of us to learn."

West's eyes narrowed.

Rhys smiled wider.

"You ever wonder why no one came to help you after the tribunal? Why you vanished from every record except black-market broadcasts?"

No response.

"It's because we didn't want you dead, West. We wanted you angry. Strong. Alone. So when the time came, you'd come back here... on your own."

He leaned closer to the camera feed.

"And you did."

The feed crackled.

West stepped forward, fists clenched.

"I'm not your puppet."

"No," Rhys said softly. "You're our proof."

The transmission ended.

Silence again.

Only Lem's weak breathing filled the space.

West looked back at the column.

The figure inside it had twitched.

Once.

Then again.

Its eye opened.

Not red.

Not blue.

But pulsing white.

Watching.

West turned toward the far door.

"We're leaving."

Lem didn't argue.

He followed quickly, eyes wide.

Behind them, the chamber went dark.

And something deep within Grid-Zero began to wake up.