The ride to the old research outpost took forever and felt like five minutes at the same time.
Bianca sat in the passenger seat this time, staring out at the endless white while Ward drove in silence.
The truck groaned every time the road got worse, which was basically the entire way.
She kept replaying the last thing she’d said to Maya before leaving.
“Stay out of trouble. Eat the pancakes. I’ll be back before you finish your second cartoon marathon.”
Maya had just nodded, looking small in the oversized hoodie Bianca had given her.
The kid was trying so hard to be brave it hurt to watch.
The System had been quiet most of the drive.
Almost too quiet.
> [ Residual Fracture Energy Detected in Target Zone ]
> [ Caution Advised ]
Bianca muttered under her breath, “You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”
Ward glanced sideways at her.
“Still arguing with your invisible friend?”
“Best conversations I’ve had all week.”
The outpost appeared below them like a scar on the mountain — broken concrete buildings half-buried in snow, fences torn down, windows shattered.
It looked exactly like somewhere secrets went to die.
They parked at the ridge and hiked down.
The snow was deeper here, sucking at their boots.
Ward carried a rifle.
Bianca carried the sidearm he’d forced on her and tried not to think about how natural it already felt.
Inside the main building the air was dead.
Papers frozen to the floor.
Old computers with cracked screens.
A faded Horizon logo on one wall stared at them like it was disappointed they’d shown up.
“Records room is this way,” Ward said, voice low.
Bianca followed, flashlight cutting through the gloom.
Every step echoed too loud.
The System kept flickering with small warnings, like it was nervous.
They found the records room at the end of a long hallway.
Filing cabinets stood open, drawers pulled out like someone had left in a hurry.
Bianca started digging immediately, hands moving fast through frozen paperwork.
Most of it was useless.
Until she found a thick folder with her mother’s handwriting on the tab.
Her stomach twisted.
She opened it.
Pages and pages of notes, diagrams, dates.
Her mom’s handwriting got messier toward the end, like she’d been writing faster and faster.
Not random.
Pattern suggests testing.
Something on the other side is probing for weak points.*
Bianca flipped faster.
*Subject B shows unusually high compatibility in simulations.
If the fractures reach her, the barrier may not hold.*
Subject B.
Bianca.
She stared at her own initial like it belonged to a stranger.
Ward was reading over her shoulder.
“She knew,” he said quietly.
“She tried to hide you from all of this.”
“Yeah, well, she sucked at it,” Bianca said, voice cracking despite herself.
She kept turning pages.
Near the back she found a single loose sheet, folded small, like it had been hidden.
In her mother’s handwriting, underlined twice:
*If they find you, run.
Do not trust Horizon.
Do not trust Evelyn.
The System is the only thing keeping the door closed.
For now.*
Bianca’s hands started shaking.
The System reacted instantly.
> [ Memory File Accessed ]
> [ Warning: Information Restricted ]
> [ Do not — ]
It cut off mid-sentence.
The lights on their flashlights flickered hard.
A low hum filled the room.
Not from any machine.
Deeper.
Like the world itself was holding its breath.
Blue cracks, thin and glowing, spidered across the far wall.
“Ward,” Bianca said.
“I see it.”
The cracks spread faster.
Cold that wasn’t cold poured into the room.
The System’s messages started glitching across her vision.
> [ FRACTURE BREACH — ]
> [ HOST COMPATIBILITY TRIGGERED ]
Bianca grabbed Ward’s arm.
“We need to leave. Right now.”
They ran.
Behind them the cracks widened with a sound like glass breaking underwater.
Through the fractures Bianca caught a glimpse of something moving — vast, slow, watching.
Stars that weren’t stars.
An eye that felt too familiar.
The System did something it had never done before.
It spoke clearly, directly, almost desperate.
> [ Do not look back. I am sealing it. Run. ]
A sharp pressure slammed through Bianca’s head.
The cracks behind them snapped shut with a violent crack, like reality had been slammed closed by force.
They burst out into the snow, breathing hard.
Ward looked pale.
Bianca’s hands were glowing faintly blue under the skin for a few seconds before it faded.
“What the hell was that?” Ward asked.
“Family reunion,” Bianca muttered.
She leaned against the truck, heart hammering.
The folder from her mother was still clutched tight in her hand.
The System stayed silent for a long moment.
Then, quieter than usual:
> [ Your mother was right about one thing. ]
> [ Evelyn Voss cannot be trusted. ]
Bianca stared at the empty air in front of her.
“Yeah? Well she also said you’re the only thing keeping the door closed.”
No answer.
But Bianca could feel the System watching her now.
Waiting.
Almost… protective.
She climbed into the truck and slammed the door.
“Take us back,” she told Ward.
“I’ve got questions. And this time someone’s damn well going to answer them.”
As the truck lurched forward through the snow, Bianca looked down at her mother’s note again.
She whispered under her breath, so quiet even Ward couldn’t hear.
“I’m coming, Mom. Whether the Void likes it or not.”
The snow kept falling, covering their tracks.
But the cracks were getting bigger.
And Bianca was starting to think she might be the reason why.