Date: 6:45 AM, April 1, 2025

  Location: Level 18, Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorado

  The hybrids struck like shadows given claws, a blur of shrieks and glinting eyes erupting from the lab’s wreckage. Sarah fired her pistol—crack-crack—hitting one in the chest, its ichor spraying as it crumpled, but another leapt, four arms slashing. She dove, rolling behind a toppled shelf, the claw missing her by inches, gouging steel.

  “Flank left!” Vasquez roared, his rifle barking, dropping a hybrid mid-lunge. Kessler swung right, bursts from her M4 carving through two more, their screeches echoing off the concrete walls. The squad fanned out—four soldiers left, firing tight, disciplined shots—but the hybrids were fast, relentless, weaving through shadows.

  Sarah scrambled up, pistol trembling, the psychic hum a deafening roar now—Jake’s voice, “Sarah… here… help…” Her eyes locked on the hybrid with his face—half-human, half-monster, four eyes glowing, crouched atop a shattered console. It stared back, head tilting, claws flexing, and her heart stuttered. “Jake?”

  It hissed, lunging—not at her, but Vasquez, claws raking his vest. He grunted, slamming the rifle butt into its jaw, staggering it. “Shoot, Thompson!” he yelled, dodging another swipe.

  She froze, finger on the trigger—Jake’s eyes, pleading, monstrous. Kessler fired instead, a burst to its leg—it screeched, collapsing, but didn’t die, crawling toward Sarah, whispering, “See me…”

  “Damn it!” Sarah snapped out of it, firing—two shots, chest and head. The hybrid slumped, Jake’s face slackening into stillness, ichor pooling. Her stomach heaved, but more came—six, eight—pouring from a tunnel at the room’s rear, claws clicking.

  “Fall back!” Vasquez shouted, a soldier—Ramirez’s buddy, Torres—screaming as a hybrid tore into his arm, dragging him down. Kessler grabbed Sarah, pulling her toward the blast door as Vasquez tossed a grenade—boom, shrapnel shredding three hybrids, buying seconds.

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  They retreated, firing, the door looming. Torres’ screams cut off, another soldier—Jenkins—falling to a claw through his back. Vasquez slammed the door shut, locking it, the hybrids’ claws screeching against steel. “Two down,” he panted, blood seeping from his arm. “Too many—tunnel’s a nest.”

  Sarah leaned against the wall, shaking, Jake’s dead face burned into her mind. “That was him… or something like him.”

  “Clone, maybe,” Kessler said, reloading. “Cult twists ‘em—psychic echoes, not real. Don’t lose it now.”

  “Not real?” Sarah’s voice cracked. “Felt real—kept calling me.”

  Vasquez checked his radio—static. “Command’s deaf—jamming, probably. We’re cut off ‘til we climb.” He winced, tying a rag around his arm. “Nest means they’ve been here—months, years. Harrington’s gotta know.”

  The door buckled, a claw piercing through. Kessler fired, driving it back. “Won’t hold—elevator’s our shot.”

  They ran, corridor narrowing, the hum pulsing—Jake’s voice gone, but a new whisper slithered in: “Deeper… more…” Sarah gritted her teeth, ignoring it, pistol ready. The elevator loomed, doors dented but open—power flickered, but it hummed alive.

  “Inside!” Vasquez shoved them in, hitting the button for level one. The car jolted up, steel groaning, as claws scraped below—hybrids climbing the shaft, screeches rising. Sarah aimed down through the floor grate, firing at glowing eyes—one fell, but more swarmed, fast.

  Kessler tossed her last grenade down—boom, the shaft shaking, hybrid shrieks fading. The elevator slowed, doors grinding open to level one—soldiers waited, rifles up, Harrington at the front, face grim.

  “Report,” he barked.

  “Nest, level 18,” Vasquez said, stepping out, blood dripping. “Hybrids—dozens. Lost Torres, Jenkins. They’re tunneling up.”

  Sarah followed, legs weak. “Jake—or something like him—was there. Psychic. They knew I’d come.”

  Harrington’s eyes narrowed. “Compromised deeper than we thought. Seal it—charges, now. Thompson, you’re with me—debrief, full scope.”

  The soldiers moved, but the hum twitched—a low growl, not Jake, something bigger. Sarah froze. “It’s not over.”

  A rumble shook the floor—deep, primal. The mountain wasn’t safe yet.