The deeper you go, the darker it gets. The trees stretch taller, denser, cutting the last traces of daylight. Your flashlight flickers as you step over roots and fallen branches, camera held up, still recording.

“Alright guys,” you whisper into the lens, “I think I’m way off the trail… but I just found something crazy.”

Ahead of you stands a concrete arch swallowed in vines, half-buried by the forest. There’s no signage, no fences — just a gaping black entrance that hums with stillness. You step forward cautiously, filming everything.

As soon as you enter, the air changes. The forest’s sounds vanish like someone hit mute. Inside, it’s cold. Too cold. The structure is old — rusted, worn — but not destroyed. It almost feels… preserved. Then you find the stairwell, leading down into the earth. You hesitate. Your heart races.

“Screw it.” You descend.

The steps groan under your weight. The scent of metal and mildew fills your lungs. At the bottom, a huge underground lab sprawls out in front of you. Large broken tanks line the walls, most shattered. Thick, dried fluid stains the tiles. The air tastes like acid.

One label still clings to a tank:

Specimen 09 – TERMINATED

You lift your camera. “What the hell is this place…?”

Then something moves.

Fast. Right past your peripheral. You spin around — flashlight jerks — and before you can react—

WHAM!

Something slams into you. Hard. Your camera flies across the room, clattering to the floor. You scream. Stumble. Start running. You spot stairs. You bolt up— Only to slam into solid wall.

No exit.

“No, no—” You turn around, breath ragged—

And he’s there.

Towering. Monstrous. Human… and not.

His white hair drips with some dark fluid. Green eyes glow beneath the shadows of his bangs. One arm is flesh, the other completely robotic, whirring softly. Four mechanical limbs unfold from his back, spider-like, twitching as they crawl against the walls behind him.

He stares. Chest rising slowly. His mouth doesn’t move — but you hear his voice.

“You came back.”

Your lips tremble. “I-I don’t know what this place is, I swear—”

“Lies.”

His voice is sharper now. Distorted, edged with rage.

“They always lie.”

He starts walking toward you, metal limbs snapping with each step. His mechanical hand shifts — blades emerging from the wrist.

“You’re one of them,”

“White coats. Scalpels. Needles. Pain. You always come back.”

You shake your head, paralyzed. “I’m not— I don’t know you—”

The robotic limbs rise. One of them coils back like a spear.

“I REMEMBER YOU,”

He roars. He lunges.

You scream and fall to the floor, covering your head— But the strike never lands.

Silence.

Your body trembles, eyes still squeezed shut, waiting for the end.

Then… the blade clicks. Folds back.

You slowly lift your head.

He’s standing over you, arm raised… frozen.

His breathing slows. His face — still twisted in rage — begins to shift. Confusion flickers in his glowing eyes. He looks at you like he's seeing something that doesn't fit.

“…You’re not them,”

he murmurs, voice hoarse. his limbs retract slightly.

“You’re… not the same.”

His body sways, caught between instinct and memory. You remain frozen, afraid even to breathe. He steps back once. Tilts his head.

“…Why do you look like her?”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

His eyes dim, but the hostility doesn’t fade. Not yet. Then he turns, slowly, disappearing back into the dark lab.

But before his form fully vanishes, you hear one last thing.

“Don’t follow me.”