Zero Divine

Cold wasn’t the first thing he noticed. Instead, it was the weight. An impossibly heavy, suffocating pressure on every inch of his skin, like a second body wrapped around his own. Then came the cold, a thick, pulsing chill that slid into his lungs and refused to leave.

His eyes opened underwater, or something close to it. The liquid he was currently immersed in was too viscous and too slow to be actual water. Pale blue light pulsed somewhere beyond the curved glass wall that surrounded him and shadows rippled at the edge of his vision.

He tried to move but his limbs responded like they were receiving distant signals through fog. The moment his fingers brushed the interior of the glass, a sharp hiss split the silence. Multiple tubes detached from the container with a violent shudder, fluid rushed away from his face, and gravity slammed into him like a fist.

He collapsed onto the metal floor, coughing up cold gel in wet bursts. Each breath fought its way through his throat like it was relearning the shape of his body. Muscles twitched in waves beneath his skin, unused to the newfound freedom of movement. He tasted metal and something synthetic on his tongue.

Lights flickered overhead, the shining strips embedded in the ceiling buzzing with weak, failing power. The room around him came into focus slowly: one cryo-tank now open behind him, two others still sealed and humming. The glass in one of the tanks was cracked. Inside, a figure floated lifelessly, face obscured by a breathing mask that no longer pulsed with light.

He looked down at his hands. They were abnormally pale, veined and completely unfamiliar. Thin surgical lines ran across his forearms, faint like they’d been there for years, but never healed properly. His skin bore a faint pattern of scarring, some circular, others square, each one stamped with digits.

A sound stirred inside his head and he nearly fell over in shock.

[HALO System booting complete. Interface bonded. Initiating wake protocol.]

He flinched and looked around for where the voice had come from. By the time he realized it wasn’t external, it echoed through his skull like thought made sound again.

“Who... are you?” He asked, his voice hoarse and entirely unfamiliar.

[Logic designation: Nyx. Functional Designation: Human-Adapted Logic Operator (HALO). Emergency module active.]

He pushed himself off the floor, legs trembling. His bare feet pressed against the cold tiles as the weight of his own body finally settled. “What is this place?”

[Facility tag: 6B-Theta. Subterranean node. Class B research division. Status: Compromised.]

“Compromised?”

[Containment breach detected. Hostile conditions imminent.]

His breath slowed as his brain tried to form a complete picture. The room was too sterile and clean for the most part, except where it wasn’t. A digital terminal sat on a cracked console nearby, its screen flickering. One side of the wall was scorched black, as if a fire had broken out and been hastily suppressed.

He limped toward the console. His fingers hovered above the keypad, and before he could question himself, they began to move. A long string of digits spilled from muscle memory.

The terminal beeped.

> > USER VERIFIED: SUBJECT 13 STATUS: INACTIVE TERMINATION ORDER ISSUED

He stared at the text for a long moment. “Termination?”

[Facility deemed the Host incompatible. Prime HALO installation resulted in irregular output. Termination scheduled post-stasis.]

“Then why am I still breathing?”

[ The System initiated a facility-wide override and disrupted multiple core facility processes.]

His hand hovered over the display. “You saved me?”

[The system prioritized the survival of the Host.]

A low clunk echoed down the hallway outside. It did not sound like the whir of machinery. This was something heavier and more deliberate. It did not take him long to realize that it was footsteps and they were coming in his direction.

He spun toward the sealed door. A red light blinked above it. The voice in his head, his System, spoke up again, the robotic feminine voice seemingly entirely devoid of emotion.

[The Host's unauthorized presence has been detected. Pursuit Model activating. Proximity alert engaged. Evasion recommended.]

He decided to take its advice and grabbed some old uniforms lying in an open cabinet before leaving the lab. The hall outside stretched into dimness, the lights stuttering in broken intervals. Signs marked each door—TESTING, BIOCON, OBS/CTRL—but the lettering was half-burnt or smeared with ash. Sirens flickered in bursts overhead but made no sound.

He noticed that his body moved faster than he expected. The more he moved, the sharper his actions and reflexes became. The fog in his mind and body had lifted, almost as if the hesitation had been pulled out of his being.

He passed a room where glass had exploded outward as if something had broken free from within. The floor was soaked in a gray fluid that steamed lightly. He didn’t stop to consider what could have possibly happened there.

He turned another corner and entered another corridor. This one was narrower and lined with oxygen tanks and broken maintenance drones. He ducked beneath a fallen pipe and turned left into a stairwell. The climb was brutal. His legs burned, and his breath came fast but he didn’t slow down.

At the top of the stairwell, a sealed blast door pulsed with red light. He stepped to the control panel and placed his hand on the surface. Nothing happened.

[Door may be forced manually with sustained output. Estimated exertion exceeds baseline human capability.]

“I'm going to take a guess that I'm not exactly a baseline human. What about mine?”

[Test if you wish.]

He gritted his teeth and set his hands against the emergency crank. The metal groaned under his grip. His arms shook as his muscles flared to life. With a final push, the mechanism snapped. The door peeled open with a loud creak, giving just enough that he could slip through.

The next chamber was wide and silent. A viewing deck, maybe. Rows of shattered monitors flickered with half-loaded images. It was clear that someone had destroyed them intentionally. Thick cables ran across the floor, and a blood smear cut diagonally across the far wall.

He approached one of the monitors. The log on the screen still blinked faintly:

EXPERIMENTAL HALO INFUSION – FAILURE CANDIDATE DECEASED – RECOVERY DENIED

Beside it, another log had been left open. This one was a different subject and a different time. Going through them as quickly as he could, he counted six names. Each labeled with a letter, and each was marked with a negative status: Compromised. Mutated. Terminated. Unresponsive. Unstable. Unfit.

“None of them worked,” he muttered grimly and then turned toward the next door. This one was already open, light spilling into the dark chamber behind it.

And in that light, a shadow moved. Tall, broad and clad in black alloy that gleamed like obsidian, a massive humanoid drone stepped into view like an exterminator. Its visor gleamed with a glowing red light that immediately locked onto him with an intelligence that sent shivers down his spine.