My Glide On Death

Chapter 11: Into the Abyss

I navigated the cave network for several more minutes before finally reaching the exit. Ahead of me stood a set of metallic stairs, leading back up to the Martian surface. As I ascended, I spotted patches of nuclear waste scattered nearby, their ominous glow unmistakable. In the distance loomed the entrance to the research facility—a massive, multi-story building. Its entrance lay open, but not because someone had left it that way. The radiation had ravaged the facility; the once-sturdy metallic doors and security systems were corroded and useless.

My armor quickly adapted to the harsh radioactive environment, sealing me in a protective cocoon. The wound from the drone attack was also healed, another testament to the advanced technology embedded in my suit.

Without hesitation, I kicked the main door, sending it flying open. The scene inside confirmed my worst fears: the facility was in shambles, torn apart by the relentless forces of time and radiation. Any hope of gathering valuable intel seemed to evaporate with each step I took. I opened a few doors and searched through the rooms, but the sight of decaying lab equipment and ruined files greeted me everywhere. Chemicals in the lab had reacted, likely influenced by the pervasive radiation, and their strange mixtures added an unsettling atmosphere to the already eerie place.

After thoroughly examining the ground floor, disappointment began to settle in. Everything was here—labs, storage areas, workspaces, and even the lobby. It seemed like a fully equipped research center, perfectly self-contained. Yet, one question lingered in my mind, what was on the upper floors? If everything necessary for research was housed on the ground level, what could be hidden above?

The answer might lie just beyond the stairs, waiting.

I cautiously approached the stairwell, my mind racing with possibilities. Each step I took up the metallic stairs echoed through the abandoned facility, amplifying the emptiness of the place. When I reached the first floor, I found the corridor eerily quiet, with dim emergency lights flickering intermittently. A thick layer of dust coated the floor, undisturbed by human presence for what seemed like decades.

The walls were lined with signs pointing toward different sections—'Data Archives,' 'Experimental Labs,' and one that caught my attention immediately: 'Restricted Zone.' I decided to start with the Data Archives, hoping there might still be some surviving records, even in this desolate environment.

I carefully opened the door to the archives and stepped inside. Rows of towering servers and filing cabinets filled the room, though most of them had been destroyed, likely by radiation or deliberate sabotage. The servers hummed faintly, as if still clinging to life, but when I attempted to access the terminal, it flickered and died, unresponsive. Frustrated, I turned my attention to the few physical files that remained intact. Many of them had crumbled to dust, but one metal case, sealed and seemingly resistant to radiation, caught my eye. It was locked with a digital code. I made a mental note to come back to it later once I could figure out how to bypass its security.

Leaving the archives, I headed toward the 'Experimental Labs.' The door to this section was sealed tighter than any I had encountered so far. I forced it open with a powerful shove, revealing a large room with strange-looking equipment scattered around. Broken glassware and smashed computers littered the area, and the faint smell of chemicals hung in the air.

The most striking feature, however, was a chamber in the center of the room, connected to several wires and cables. It looked like some sort of containment pod, large enough to fit a person. The glass was cracked, and the readings on the control panel were glitching. Whatever had been inside was long gone, but the presence of the chamber raised alarming questions. What kind of experiments were conducted here? Had they succeeded—or failed catastrophically?