I’m Stationed at a Desert Base. Something Horrifying Woke Up Beneath.

Hello and welcome back to Sleepy Pasta. I know many of you love to listen to my stories while doing your daily life chores or even to fall asleep to these stories. So before you get carried away, please leave a comment telling me where you are watching from and don't forget to follow the show, it helps me tremendously.

I sat in the corner of the mess hall, pushing mystery meat around my plate while trying to figure out what was bugging me about E7. The food wasn't great, but military chow never was. It wasn't the heat either. We were all used to that by now. No, it was something else, something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I looked up from my tray, taking in the room. The walls met at odd angles, forming a hexagon instead of the standard rectangular layout used in every other base I'd been stationed at. Why build it this way in the middle of nowhere? It made no practical sense. You going to eat that or just redecorate your plate, Leonard?

Corporal Chang dropped into the seat across from me, his tray clattering against the metal table. Just thinking, I said. Don't hurt yourself. He grinned, shoveling food into his mouth. I forced to smile and took a bite, but my attention drifted to the window.

From here, I could see one of the concrete barriers that formed our perimeter. There were markings on it, not standard military stenciling, but something that looked almost carved in symbols I'd never seen before. Lines and curves that seem to shift slightly when I wasn't looking directly at them. Hey, you ever noticed those markings on the barriers?

I asked. The Chang's eyes flick to the window, then quickly away. What markings on the concrete? Those weird symbols? He stuffed another fork full into his mouth, chewing deliberately.

Don't see anything. He mumbled, suddenly very interested in his food. I watched him avoid looking out the window and realized I'd seen that same behavior from others. Quick glances away from the barriers, walking with eyes fixed straight ahead when passing them. Everyone noticed.

Nobody talked about it. After finishing my meal, I headed outside. I walked toward one of the barriers, pretending to be heading to the supply tent. Up close, the symbols were strange. Curved lines connecting in impossible ways, angles that hurt my eyes.

I reached out and touched one. The concrete felt cool despite sitting in the desert sun all day. Private Leonard. I jumped at the sound of Colonel Contreras's voice. He stood a few yards away, his face unreadable behind dark sunglasses.

Sir. I said, snapping to attention. Something interesting about that barrier? No, Sir, just thought I saw something. His mouth tightened slightly.

We have a briefing in 5 minutes. Main tent? Yes, Sir. He held my gaze a moment longer than necessary, then turned and walked away. I took one last look at the symbols before following.

The main tent was packed with all 36 soldiers stationed at E7. We sat on folding chairs as Colonel Contreras stood at the front. I know many of you have questions about our mission here, He began, his voice carrying easily through the tent. The nature of our deployment remains classified, but I want to be clear about your duties.

He clicked a remote and a map of the base appeared on the screen behind him. The hexagonal layout was even more obvious from above. E7 exists for one purpose, to maintain this perimeter. Your job is to ensure nothing comes in and nothing goes out without proper authorization. Someone raised a hand.

Sir. What exactly are we guarding? Contreras's face remained impassive. That information is above your pay grade, Sergeant Alexander. With all due respect, Sir, we've been here 3 weeks with no resupply, spotty communications, and no clear objective beyond Watch the fence.

A murmur of agreement rippled through the tent. Contreras removed his sunglasses, his blue eyes hard as steel. Your objective, Sergeant, is to follow orders. This area is restricted for reasons that don't concern you. All you need to know is that under no circumstances is anyone to venture beyond the perimeter without direct orders from me.

He looked around the room, meeting each of our eyes. When he focused on me, I felt a chill. I'll be clear, this isn't a standard deployment. The rules here are different. Stay inside the fence.

Report anything unusual immediately through proper channels. Do not attempt to investigate on your own. He paused, dismissed. As we filed out of the tent, I caught fragments of whispered conversations. Weird place to build a base.

Heard Torres say the satellite phone won't connect. Alexander's right. Something's off. I headed to my bunk to grab my gear for the night shift, then made my way to guard Tower 3. Private Remy Chandler was already there when I arrived, leaning against the railing and staring out at the darkening desert.

Evening. I said, setting my rifle against the wall. Remy nodded without turning. Another exciting night in paradise. I took my position on the other side of the small platform, scanning the perimeter.

The fence stretched out in both directions, forming another hexagon that matched the layout of the inner buildings. Beyond it was nothing but sand and rocks, with mountains barely visible on the horizon. You hear Contreras's speech? I asked. Yeah, same old shut up and follow orders routine.

Remy yawned, rubbing his eyes. Wake me if the bogeyman shows up. I laughed, but it felt hollow. You know that's against regulations. So is building a base in the middle of nowhere with no clear purpose, but here we are.

He slid down to sit with his back against the wall, tilting his cap over his eyes. Just give me a nudge if someone comes by. Within minutes, his breathing had slowed and he was asleep. I didn't blame him. Night shifts were brutally boring, and Remy never seemed to get enough sleep during the day.

Nightmares, he'd said once, though, he wouldn't talk about them. The hours passed. I paced the platform, checked my watch, counted stars to stay alert. Around 2:00 in the morning, I heard a low humming sound from beyond the fence. I straightened, grabbed my rifle and peered into the darkness.

The sound had a musical quality that raised the hairs on my neck. It continued steadily, as if calling to me. Protocol said I should radio it in instead. I glanced at Remy, still sound asleep, then back at the darkness beyond the fence. The humming seemed to pulse now, like a heartbeat.

I made my decision. Remy. I said, nudging him with my boot. Wake up. He stirred, blinking up at me.

What? What time is it? Just after two. Listen, I think there's something wrong with the generator behind the mess hall. I'm going to check it out.

He rubbed his face. Want me to come? No, stay here. I'll be back in 20 minutes, tops. Remy yawned.

All right, don't get caught. I climbed down the ladder and walked casually toward the mess hall, making sure I was visible to anyone who might be watching. Once I was behind the building, I changed direction, moving quickly toward the section of fence I'd noticed earlier, a spot where the razor wire had come loose, creating a gap just big enough for a person to slip through.

My heart pounded as I approached the fence. This was stupid. If I got caught, best case was a reprimand. Worst case was much worse, especially given how tightly wound Contreras seemed about the perimeter. I hesitated, then heard the humming again, louder now.

Before I could change my mind, I squeezed through the gap, feeling the wire snag on my uniform but not breaking skin. Then I was through, standing outside the base for the first time in weeks. The desert night was cool and still. The humming had stopped, but I felt pulled in a specific direction anyway.

I walked about 50 yards from the fence, my boots sinking slightly in the soft sand. The base lights grew smaller behind me as I crested a small dune. That's when I saw it. A perfect black cube, about two feet on each side, half buried in the sand. It was so dark it seemed to swallow the moonlight, creating a hole in the world.

No markings, no seams, nothing to indicate how it was made or what it was for. I approached slowly, my mouth dry. This had to be what we were guarding, what Contreras was so secretive about. I knelt beside it, studying its impossible surface. It didn't look like any material I recognized.

Not metal, not stone, not plastic. It looked like absence. I reached out, my hand hovering over its surface. Every instinct told me not to touch it, but I couldn't stop myself. My fingers made contact with a cube.

The world exploded, not with light, but with darkness so complete it burned. I couldn't move. My body seemed to dissolve into the blackness pouring from the cube. I wasn't in the desert anymore. I wasn't anywhere.

My consciousness floated in an endless void, untethered from my physical form. And I wasn't alone. Something vast moved in the darkness around me. It shifted between forms, countless tentacles, then a writhing mass of eyes and mouths. I knew I was facing something ancient and powerful, beyond human understanding.

Something entered my mind, not his words, but his pure concepts appearing directly in my thoughts. I am Asatha. The name hit me hard. I couldn't speak or run. I had neither mouth nor body.

You have found me, human. After all this time. You have found me. Terror unlike anything I'd ever known washed over me. I was nothing, less than nothing before this entity, and somehow, impossibly, it knew me.

It saw me, and it had been waiting. Where am I? I asked, or thought I asked. My voice didn't make actual sound here, it was more like my thoughts projected outward into the void, the space between realities. Came the reply, not as concepts flooding directly into my mind where I have waited.

The presence of Azathoth surrounded me completely. I couldn't see it, there was nothing to see, but I felt its vastness pressing in from all directions at once. What do you want from me? I managed to ask, fighting against the terror threatening to overwhelm me. You have found me.

When others merely guarded without understanding. They built their base atop my temple, thinking simple walls could contain what they do not comprehend. Temple base. The concepts click together in my mind. E7 was built on top of something older.

Many structures have stood there, many guardians have watched without seeing, but the stars have aligned. I will reclaim what is mine. A cold certainty washed over me. Whatever this thing was, it had been imprisoned somehow, and that imprisonment was ending. Why me?

I asked. Why am I here? The darkness seemed to pulse around me, almost like laughter. You touched what was forbidden. You sought knowledge when others turned away.

You will be my Harold. Harold. The word echoed through my consciousness. I wanted to ask what that meant, but before I could form the thought, I felt a violent tugging sensation. The void stretched and warped around me.

Your time here ends. But I will call upon you again, Harold. The pulling intensified. The darkness fractured with streaks of painful light. I felt myself being yanked backward through an impossible distance.

Leonard, Leonard, wake up. Someone was shaking me hard. I came to with a mouthful of sand, my face pressed into the desert floor. My head pounded and my throat felt raw, like I'd been screaming. What the hell are you doing out here?

I rolled over, spitting grit, and looked up to see Sergeant Izzy Alexander standing over me. The night sky stretched behind her, stars glittering coldly. Her expression was a mixture of anger and concern. Sergeant. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, trying to get my bearings.

I was still outside the perimeter fence, maybe 20 yards from where I'd found the cube. The cube itself was nowhere to be seen. How did you? You weren't at your post? She cut me off.

Chandler. Radioed that you'd gone to check something and never came back. I've been looking for you for 20 minutes. She grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. What were you?

Thinking leaving the perimeter, my thoughts raced the cube as a thought. The void, it all felt real, but with Izzy glaring at me, it seemed impossible. There was something out here. I said, turning to scan the area. A black cube, half buried in the sand.

I touched it, and Jesus, Leonard. Izzy sighed, cutting me off again. You were sleepwalking. No, I wasn't, I was fully awake. There was a cube right here.

I pointed to the spot where I'd found it, but the sand was smooth and undisturbed. Izzy shook her head. Look, this happens sometimes. The water supply here has trace amounts of medication to help with the stress of deployment. Some people react differently.

Sleepwalking. Vivid dreams. This wasn't a dream, I insisted. And I don't sleepwalk. Well, you do now.

She grabbed my shoulder and steered me toward the gap in the fence. Let's get you back inside before someone else notices you're gone. I don't want to have to write you up. I wanted to argue more, but the evidence was against me. The cube was gone, there was nothing in the sand, and now that I was fully awake, the whole experience with Azathoth felt dreamlike, slipping away from me like water through fingers.

We squeezed back through the fence, and Izzy walked me all the way to the barracks rather than back to my post. Get some sleep. She ordered. Your shift ended 20 minutes ago anyway. And Leonard?

Her eyes narrowed. Don't mention this to anyone. The Colonel doesn't need to know you had a reaction to the meds. I nodded. Izzy gave me one last hard look before turning and walking away.

Inside the barracks, most of the other soldiers were asleep. I made my way to my bunk as quietly as possible, stripped off my boots and outer uniform, and lay down. But sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. Harold. The word kept repeating in my thoughts.

What did it mean? And why did Izzy's explanation feel so wrong? I hadn't been sleepwalking. I'd been wide awake when I found that cube the other men tossed and turned in their bunks. The barracks were never quiet at night.

Someone was always snoring, talking in their sleep, or getting up to the bathroom. Tonight felt different. Soft moans and muttered words broke through the usual sounds. No, please, came a whisper from 2 bunks over. Get away, someone else mumbled.

I propped myself up on one elbow, looking around. Nearly everyone seemed to be having nightmares. Limbs twitched under blankets, faces contorted in the dim light filtering through the windows. The black light is coming, a voice said clearly. I turned toward the sound.

Private Troy Smith lay rigid in his bunk, eyes wide open but unseeing. Sweat gleamed on his forehead. Troy, I whispered. The black light will pour from the sky, he continued in that same flat, detached voice. It will find those who have been marked.

It will change them. A boot sailed through the air and hit the wall next to Troy's head with a thud. Shut the fuck up, Smith. Corporal Leroy Chiang hissed from across the room. Some of us are trying to sleep.

Troy blinked several times, as if coming out of a trance. He rolled over without acknowledging either me or the boot that had nearly hit him. I lay back down, staring at the ceiling. Black light. The phrase tugged at something in my memory.

Had Azathoth mentioned black light? I couldn't remember clearly, but Troy's words sent a chill through me for hours. I couldn't sleep properly. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw the black cube. As I started to doze, I felt Azathoth's presence pressing against my mind.

The wall clock showed 5:00 in the morning. When I finally slipped into true sleep, exhaustion overcoming my racing thoughts, the alarm jerked me awake. I sat up fast, disoriented. The barracks erupted into motion. Men jumped from beds, grabbing for boots and weapons.

What's going on? Someone shouted. Perimeter breach. Another guest. I checked my watch.

6:30 I've been asleep for 90 minutes. The alarm continued to wail, but now I could hear something else underneath it, a sound that made my blood run cold gunfire. Not the controlled bursts of a training exercise, but the chaotic, panicked shooting of soldiers under attack. Eastern perimeter. Someone yelled from the doorway.

We're under attack. I grabbed my boots and yanked them on my hands, shaking as I reached for my weapon. A single thought cut through the chaos. The stars have aligned. I will reclaim what is mine.

The gunfire intensified, punctuated now by screams. I grabbed my rifle and tactical vest, pulling them on as I rushed out of the barracks. The morning air hit my face with a blast of dry heat that hadn't been there minutes ago. All around me, chaos had taken over the central yard of E7. Soldiers ran in every direction, some shouting orders that got swallowed up in the noise, others just running with wide, panicked eyes.

Lieutenant Willie stood in the middle of it all, waving his arms and trying to organize the response. When he saw. Me. He pointed toward the eastern fence line. Leonard, get your ass to 3rd Squad's position, They need backup now.

I nodded and took off running, my boots kicking up dust as I headed E. The sound of gunfire grew louder. Sharp cracks of rifle fire mixed with the deeper thump of something heavier. But as I got closer to 3rd Squad's position along the eastern perimeter, something felt wrong. The soldiers were firing wildly, some shooting straight up into the air, others aiming at empty patches of sand beyond the fence.

I slowed down, scanning for whatever had breached the perimeter, but there was nothing. No vehicles, no people, no animals. Just empty desert. What are we shooting at? I yelled to the nearest guy, a private whose name I couldn't remember.

He didn't even look at me, just kept firing into empty air, his face locked in a grimace of terror. I turned around, trying to make sense of what was happening, when a flash of movement caught my eye. I looked toward the mess hall and froze. A column of black light, exactly like what I'd seen coming from the cube, poured through the roof of the building.

It wasn't like normal light. It didn't illuminate anything. Instead, it seemed to swallow the brightness around it, creating a dark wound in the morning sky. The column pulsed and writhed like it was alive, expanding and contracting with a rhythm that made my head hurt. Two soldiers I didn't recognize walked toward it, moving like they were in a trance.

They stepped directly into the black light. They didn't scream, they didn't have time. Their bodies just came apart. Not like an explosion, more like they turned to dust that blew away in a wind. I couldn't feel.

One second they were people, the next they were gone. Andy. I spun around to find Sergeant Izzy right beside me, her rifle raised. Her face was streaked with sweat, and her eyes were wide with something I'd never seen in her before. Fear.

We need to. She never finished. A tendril of darkness, like a finger of that same black light, shot out from somewhere behind her. It wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground. Her rifle clattered to the dirt as her arms went rigid at her sides.

I reached for her, but stopped when I saw what was happening to her body. It was collapsing in on itself, folding inward like paper being crumpled by an invisible hand. The sound, Jesus, the sound was like bones snapping and wet things tearing all at once. Then she was gone too, the tendril withdrawing with whatever remained of her.

I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over my own feet. My radio crackled to life, with Colonel Scott's voice somehow steady despite everything happening around us all. Personnel, this is Colonel Scott. We have a code black evacuation. I repeat, code black evacuation.

Proceed to designated extraction points immediately. This is not the transmission. Cut to static, a harsh white noise that made me RIP the radio from my vest and throw it away. More of those black tendrils were appearing now, Slytherin across the ground like snakes made of shadow. One of them changed direction when it got near me, curving toward my boot.

I jumped back, watching as it followed, moving faster now. They were coming for me specifically. Somehow, I knew it. The motor pool that was the closest extraction point. I took off running, zigzagging between buildings to avoid the patches of crawling darkness that seemed to be pursuing me.

Every time I glanced back, there were more of them converging on my path. A tendril shot out from between two barracks, nearly catching my ankle. I jumped over it, feeling a cold so intense it burned even through my boot, where it almost touched me. The motor pool came into view, a collection of Humvees and trucks parked in neat rows.

Most were already gone, but one Humvee had its engine running, the exhaust kicking up dust. Behind the wheel sat Specialist Amber Bush, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles had gone white. When she saw me, she leaned over and pushed open the passenger door. Get in, she screamed. I didn't need to be told twice.

I dove into the seat, pulling the door shut behind me just as a wave of darkness washed over the spot where I'd been standing. But go, go, go, I yelled. Amber slammed her foot on the gas. The Humvee lurched forward, tires spinning in the sand before finding purchase. We shot toward the main gate, which hung open and unmanned.

What the hell is happening? Amber asked, her voice shaking as she gripped the wheel. I looked back through the rear window and felt my stomach drop. The entire base was being swallowed by a massive column of black light, wider than any building, rising up into the sky until I couldn't see where it ended.

Smaller tendrils whipped out from it, grabbing at anything that moved. Just drive, I said. Don't stop for anything. We crashed through the gate, metal screeching against metal, and then we were in the open desert, the Humvee bouncing over dunes as amber pushed it as fast as it would go. In the side mirror, I watched E7 disappear completely into that impossible darkness.

The black light swelled one final time, then collapsed in on itself like a dying star. And then there was nothing behind us but empty desert, as if the base had never existed at all. The Humvees engines sputtered and died, leaving us stranded in the middle of nowhere. I stared at the fuel gauges, needle pointing firmly at Empty, then looked out at the endless expanse of sand and scrub brush surrounding us.

That's it? Amber said, tapping the gauge with her finger as if that might change something. We're officially out of gas. I wiped sweat from my forehead and checked my watch. We'd been.

Driving for three hours, putting as much distance as possible between US and whatever had happened at E7. The memory of those black tendrils and Izzy's body collapsing in on itself made my stomach turn. We should keep moving. Amber said, already reaching for the door handle. Find the nearest outpost or town.

I grabbed her arm. Wait, we have no idea where we are. The nearest town could be 50 miles away. So what's your plan? Sit here and wait to die?

I took a breath and tried to think. The sun beat down overhead. My uniform was soaked with sweat and my canteen was half empty. We won't make it on foot in this heat, not without knowing where we're going. I pointed to the dashboard clock.

It's almost noon, hottest part of the day. We'd collapse from heat stroke before we made it 5 miles. Amber ran her hands through her hair, leaving it sticking up in sweaty clumps. So. We just sit here, we wait for rescue, I said, sounding more confident than I felt.

The military will send someone looking for us after what we just saw. You think anyone's coming? I didn't answer immediately. The image of E7 being swallowed by that impossible darkness flashed in my mind again. Standard procedure, I finally said.

When a base goes dark, they send search parties. Plus, we've got survival gear in the back. Emergency beacons. Amber stared at me for a long moment, then nodded. OK, let's set up the beacons.

We climbed out of the Humvee. I grabbed the emergency kit from the back while Amber kept watch, her hand near her sidearm. The kit contained 2 battery powered emergency beacons, some basic first aid supplies, 4 liters of water, and a few Mr. ES. Not much, but it might keep us alive until help arrived.

Help me set these up. I said, handing one of the beacons to Amber. One on the roof, one about 20 yards out. Double the chance of someone spotting the signal. Amber took the beacon and climbed onto the hood of the Humvee, then pulled herself up to the roof.

I walked out from the vehicle, counting my steps to get the right distance. The sand was hot enough to feel through my boots. After setting up my beacon, I turned to see Amber placing hers on the roof. She looked unsteady, swaying slightly as she stood up. You OK?

I called out. She gave me a thumbs up, but I could tell something was wrong. Her movements were sluggish as she climbed back down. When I reached the Humvee, Amber was sitting in the shade it provided, her head between her knees. I got dizzy for a second.

She said before I could ask. I'm fine. I crouched next to her and offered my canteen drink. Slowly, she took a small sip and handed it back. We need to conserve it.

We need to stay alive to be rescued. I countered, pushing the canteen back toward her. Drink a little more. We spent the afternoon taking turns watching the horizon for any sign of rescue while the other rested in the shade of the Humvee. As the hours passed, the heat became more oppressive.

We rationed our water carefully, but I could tell we were both getting dehydrated. Amber seemed to be taking it harder than me. Her face had gone from flushed to pale, and she'd stopped sweating, a bad sign. I made her drink more water and wet a bandana to put around her neck, but her condition kept getting worse.

The sunset and the temperature dropped. More stars than I'd ever seen filled the night sky. Andy, Amber said, her voice weak. She was lying in the back seat of the Humvee, where I'd moved her when she became too weak to sit up. I don't feel right.

I climbed in next to her, checking her pulse. It was rapid and thready. Her skin felt hot and dry despite the cooling air. Heat exhaustion, I said. Maybe heat stroke.

Here, try to drink a little more. She took a sip but immediately started coughing. Can't. She whispered. You have to.

I insisted, trying to keep the panic out of my voice just a little bit. She shook her head weakly. Listen to me. If you make it back, tell them what happened. Don't let them cover it up.

We're both making it back. I said firmly. The beacons are active. Someone will find us by morning. Amber's eyes suddenly widened, looking past me at something outside the window.

Do you see that? I turned to look in the distance, on the horizon where E7 had been, a brief flash of black light pulsed against the night sky. It lasted only a second, but it was unmistakable. The same unnatural darkness we'd fled from. It's following us, She whispered.

No, it's just, it's miles away. I said, trying to sound reassuring. We're safe here. Amber grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. The shadows, they have too many angles.

Did you see that? Too many angles? Not right. Her words sent a chill down my spine. Despite the heat.

I held her hand tightly. Try to rest, save your strength. Promise me. She insisted, her eyes unfocused. Promise you'll tell them, I promise.

I said, squeezing her hand. Now rest. She nodded slightly, her eyes drifting closed. Her breathing became shallow, each inhale A struggle. I stayed with her, holding her hand, watching her face in the dim light from the stars.

I knew she was dying, and there was nothing I could do about it. I'm sorry. I whispered, though I wasn't sure if she could hear me anymore. Her lips moved, forming words I couldn't hear. I leaned closer.

The shadows have too many angles. She repeated, her voice barely audible. They're not supposed to bend that way. Those were her last words. A few minutes later, her breathing stopped.

I checked for a pulse, finding nothing. Amber was gone. I sat there, holding her hand for a long time, unable to process what had happened. In the span of a single day, I'd lost my entire unit, my base, and now Amber. And for what?

What the hell was that thing at E7? I climbed out of the Humvee. I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at the horizon where I'd seen that flash of black light. It happened again as I watched, a pulse of darkness against the starry sky. I climbed onto the hood of the Humvee and huddled against the windshield, keeping watch through the night.

Every hour or so I'd see another flash on the horizon. Each time I tensed, half expecting to see those black tendrils racing across the desert toward me. But they never came. Morning came. My mouth was dry, my head pounding from dehydration.

I rationed the last of our water, taking tiny sips. Amber's body lay in the back seat, covered with a blanket from the emergency kit. I couldn't bear to look at her. Around mid morning, I heard it. The distant thump of helicopter blades.

I scrambled to my feet, scanning the sky until I spotted it, a military chopper approaching from the east. The emergency beacons had worked. I waved my arms frantically as the helicopter circled overhead, then began to descend. Sand whipped around me as it landed about 50 yards away. The side door slid open and several soldiers jumped out, weapons raised.

They approached cautiously, fanning out in a standard tactical formation. I recognize the lead officer by his captain's Insignia. Dustin Torres, a man I'd never seen before. Hands where I can see them. He shouted over the noise of the helicopter.

I raised my hand slowly. I'm Private Andy Leonard, E7 base, we need medical assistance. The Captain motioned to a female corporal, her name tape read Shepherd, who moved behind me while keeping her weapon trained on my back. On your knees. She ordered.

I complied, too exhausted to argue. The corporal quickly secured my hands behind my back with zip ties, pulling them tight enough to bite into my skin. Captain Torres approached, his expression hard. What happened to your soldier? E7 was attacked, I said, my voice hoarse from thirst.

Some kind of, I don't know how to describe it, Black light. It took everyone. Only me and Specialist Bush made it out, but she. I nodded toward the Humvee. She didn't make it.

Torres exchanged a look with Shepherd, then turned back to me. There is no E7 base, Private. I stared at him in disbelief. What? Yes, there is.

Was a hexagonal base in Sector 16. We were guarding something, I don't know what. Sector 16 is empty desert. Torres said flatly. Always has been.

Your unit was reported missing 3 days ago during a routine patrol from FoB Dagger 9. We've been searching for you since then. Mind reeled. No, that's not. I was stationed at E7.

We all were, 36 of us. Torres nodded to someone behind me. I felt a sharp prick in my neck. You're confused, Private. We're taking you back for medical evaluation.

Whatever they'd injected me with worked fast. The desert began to spin around me, and Torres's face blurred. E7 was real. I insisted, slurring the black light as a Thoth. The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was another flash on the horizon, a pulse of darkness against the morning sky, visible only to me.

I woke up to the beep of a heart monitor. My mouth felt dry and my head throbbed. I tried to rub my face but couldn't move my right arm. A handcuff clanked against the bed rail. He's awake, a woman's voice said.

I turned my head slowly, fighting a wave of nausea. 2 soldiers in military police uniforms stood at attention on either side of my bed. The woman who had spoken, a corporal with Auburn hair cut in a practical Bob, maintained her forward gaze, not looking at me directly. The name tape on her uniform read Sodo.

Beside her stood a broad shouldered man with close cropped black hair, his face a mask of professional indifference. His name tape identified him as Powell. Where am I? I asked, my voice coming out as a dry croak. Neither MP answered.

Sergeant Powell shifted his weight slightly but kept his eyes fixed on the wall across from my bed. I checked the room. White walls, linoleum floor and just the hospital bed I was cuffed to. Through the. Window.

I saw blue sky. An IV ran into my left arm with monitors around the bed. They'd taken my desert fatigues and put me in a hospital gown. The door opened and a woman in an officer's uniform walked in. Her silver streaked black hair was pulled into a bun.

The Insignia on her uniform identified her as a major. She carried a Manila folder and moved efficiently. Private Leonard, She said, her voice cold and precise. I'm Major Raven Knight, I'll be overseeing your case. My case?

I asked. You're being charged with desertion, Private. She opened the folder and read from a document inside. According to our records, you abandoned your post at Forward Operating Base Dagger 9, stole a military vehicle and fled into restricted territory. I tried to sit up straighter, pulling against the handcuff.

That's not what happened. I was never stationed at Dagger 9. I was at E7. Major Knight's expression didn't change. There is no E7, Private Leonard.

That's not true. I was stationed there for six months. We were attacked. The whole base was destroyed by. I paused, knowing how it would sound by some kind of black light.

It came from underground. It killed everyone except me and Specialist Bush. Knight exchanged a look with the MPs before turning back to me. You were part of a twelve person patrol that went missing from FoB Dagger 910 days ago. You're the only one who's been recovered alive.

No, that's wrong. There were 36 of us at E7. Colonel Scott Contreras was our CEO. Sergeant Izzy Alexander was my direct superior. We were guarding something.

Something in the desert. I was talking too fast, the words tumbling out. The base was hexagonal, 6 guard towers. We had strict orders not to leave the perimeter. Major Knight pulled a satellite photo from her folder and held it up for me to see.

It showed nothing but empty desert sand and scattered rocks. These are the coordinates you provided to Captain Torres when you were found. She tapped a spot on the image. There's nothing there, private. No base, no structures of any kind.

The area has been restricted for decades due to unstable ground conditions. I stared at the photo, unable to process what I was seeing. That's not. Possible E7 was there. I lived there for six months.

You've been stationed at Dagger 9 for the past eight months. Private Leonard, your medical records indicate you were prescribed medication for sleep disturbances by Doctor Tracy Henry 3 weeks ago. She flipped to another page in her folder. Side effects can include hallucinations and memory distortion. I'm not hallucinating.

I insisted E7 was real. We were attacked. The black light came through the mess hall roof. It killed Sergeant Alexander right in front of me. I saw her die.

Specialist Bush and I escaped in a Humvee. Major Knight's expression hardened. Specialist Amber Bush's remains were recovered from a crashed and burned vehicle 20 miles from where you were found. The damage pattern suggests the vehicle rolled several times before Catching Fire. My stomach dropped.

No, she died from heat stroke in the back seat. She was alive when we ran out of gas. She made me promise to tell people what happened. The medical examiner's report indicates Specialist Bush died from injuries consistent with a high speed vehicle accident followed by fire exposure. Night closed the folder.

Private Leonard, you're currently under guard and will remain in medical care until you're cleared for transfer to the detention facility for desertion. You're covering it up? I said, my voice rising. E7 was real. Something was buried there, something called Azathoth.

It broke free and destroyed the base. The military knew about it. They were guarding it. Knight's face remained impassive. I'll have Doctor Henry come see you about adjusting your medication.

You're clearly still experiencing delusions. I'm not delusional. I pulled against the handcuff again. Ask anyone who was stationed there. Ask Colonel Contreras.

Ask Lieutenant Willie Blair. They know the truth. There is no record of any Colonel Contreras or Lieutenant Blair in this theater of operations, Knight said flatly. Rest now, private. We'll talk again when you're more coherent.

She nodded to the MPs and turned to leave. Wait, I called. After her what? About the symbols, the markings on the concrete barriers at E7, how do you explain those? Major Night paused at the door.

What symbols? Private strange shapes and impossible angles were carved into the barriers around the base. They felt cold to the touch, despite the desert heat. For a split second, something flickered in Knight's eyes, Recognition, maybe even fear. But it vanished so quickly I couldn't be sure I'd seen it at all.

Get some rest, Private Leonard, she said, and walked out. The door closed. The MPs resumed their positions, staring ahead as if I wasn't there. I sank back against the pillow. They were lying.

E7 was real. Amber hadn't died in a. Crash. She died. In my arms, talking about shadows with too many angles.

I turned toward the window, hoping to get a better sense of where I was. The sky was starting to. Darken into evening. In the distance, I could see the outline of mountains against the horizon. As I watched, a thin column of darkness rose from somewhere beyond those mountains, a line of black.

Against the fading blue. Sky. It wasn't smoke. It was too perfect, too straight. It was the same black light I'd seen at E7.

I blinked. And it was gone. Did you see that? I asked the MPs. Neither responded.

I looked away from the window and froze on the opposite wall. Shadows were moving. Not normal shadows from furniture or the guards, but something else. Shapes forming where light should have been. They twisted into the same.

Symbols I'd seen. On the concrete barriers at E7, I watched as the cymbals became more defined, pulsing and rhythm, with a beeping heart monitor as my pulse quickened. The MPs didn't react. Either they couldn't see what was happening on the wall behind them, or they were trained to ignore it. The symbols continue to.

Form growing more. Complex by the second. I knew what they meant now, as a thought wasn't gone. It was still out there, still awake, and somehow I was still connected to it. I spent the next few weeks in a military psychiatric ward, tucked away in some unmarked building at the edge of the base.

The room was small and sterile, white walls, beige linoleum floor, a narrow bed with thin sheets, and a window too high to see anything but patches of sky. The handcuffs were gone, replaced by twice daily check insurance from MPs who stood silently by the door during my sessions with Doctor Tracy Henry. She had ash blonde hair in a Bob, Gray eyes and rectangular glasses.

She wore a lab coat over her uniform, with a small surgical scar on her wrist visible when she wrote notes. Let's talk about E7 again, she said during our third session, her voice clinical and detached. You believe you were stationed at a base that doesn't exist? It existed, I said, sitting on the edge of my bed.

I lived there for six months. She made a note without looking up. And this entity you claim destroyed the base as a thought. You called it. The name made the air feel colder.

Yes. Where did you hear that name? It told me when I touched the cube. Doctor Henry looked up from her notepad, her expression carefully neutral. The cube that no one else saw.

Amber saw what happened after the black light. She died because of it. Specialist Bush died from injuries sustained in a vehicle accident. She corrected her tone, suggesting we've been over this many times you were suffering from. Severe dehydration when?

Captain Torres found you. Hallucinations are common in such conditions. I leaned forward. Then why am I here? Instead of in a regular.

Hospital. Why the armed guards? You stole military property and deserted your post, Private Leonard. The psychiatric evaluation is standard procedure before your court martial. She closed her notebook.

I'm diagnosing you with PTSD and desert induced psychosis. With medication and therapy, these delusions should subside. She stood to leave, smoothing her lab coat. The orderly will bring your evening medication in an hour. After she left, I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

It was always the same clinical dismissal, careful redirection and more pills, but something about doctor. Henry bothered me. More each time we spoke, the way her eyes flickered. When I mentioned certain. Details how she never directly denied E7's existence, just pointed to the lack of evidence.

I remembered what Izzy. Had said that night in the. Desert, Tracy warned us. About side effects. The same Tracy.

Not a coincidence. She was part of whatever cover up was happening, I was sure of it. That night it started again. The shadows on my wall began to move around too, forming the same impossible symbols I'd seen on the concrete barriers at E7. I sat up in bed, watching as they grew more complex, patterns that hurt my eyes, angles that bent in ways that shouldn't be possible.

Each night they appeared, growing more elaborate and spreading across the wall. I stopped mentioning them in my sessions. Doctor Henry would just increase my dosage and I needed to keep my head clear. During my third week, they moved me to a different section of the ward with other patients. Most kept to themselves, shuffling through the day room in the hospital gowns or sitting alone at tables during meals.

But I recognized. Something in their eyes. That same haunted look I'd seen in Troy Smith's face the night before E7 was destroyed. The look of someone who'd seen something they couldn't explain, something that followed them into their dreams. One afternoon in the day room, I sat across from a man with a scraggly beard who hadn't spoken since I arrived.

He was drawing the same. Symbol over and. Over on a piece of paper, one of the simpler patterns I'd seen on my wall. Where did you see that? I asked quietly.

His hand froze mid stroke. He looked up, his eyes suddenly clear and focused. In the desert, He whispered. It was carved into a rock. I touched it.

And then he trailed off, his gaze drifting back to his drawing. They don't believe me either before I could ask. More an orderly. Approached a guy named Alex Turner, who'd been friendly to me since I arrived. He was younger than most staff, maybe 25, with short brown hair and an easy smile that seemed out of place in the ward.

Time for group, gentlemen, He said, helping the bearded man to his feet. After leading the man away, Alex came back and sat across from me. You're looking better. He said. Keeping his voice low, more present, I shrugged.

The meds are doing. Wonders for my imagination. He smiled slightly at my sarcasm. Doctor Henry increased your dosage again. Twice Doesn't seem to stop the shadows, though.

His smile faded. What shadows? I hadn't meant to say it out loud. I studied his face, looking for signs of the clinical detachment I'd seen in Doctor Henry, but found only curiosity. Nothing I said, just talking.

Alex leaned closer. Look, I've worked here 8 months. Most patients, there's usually something that triggered their break. Combat Stress, personal trauma. But you're different.

You're too coherent, too consistent. He glanced around to make sure. No one was listening. And you're not the. First soldier I've seen come.

Through with stories about strange desert experiences, I felt a flicker of. Hope for the first. Time in weeks. You believe me? I believe something.

Happened to you, he. Said carefully, something they're covering up that night. Alex was on the late. Shift. He came to check on me around midnight, after the other orderlies had finished their rounds.

Can you show me? He asked. Closing the door behind him. These shadows you mentioned, they usually start around. Two, I said.

But they've been coming earlier each night. We waited in silence. After about 20 minutes, the shadows began to move, sliding across the wall like liquid darkness, forming into the first simple symbols. Alex's face went pale. Holy shit, he whispered.

That's not that shouldn't be possible. The symbols grew more complex, branching out across the wall. Alex reached out as. If to touch 1 then. Pulled his hand back.

What are they? He asked. I don't know. They were carved into the barriers at E7. They felt cold even in the desert heat.

He turned to me, his professional demeanor completely gone. I need to show you something. But not here, not now. I work again tomorrow night. I'll figure something out.

The next night, Alex came for me around 1:00 in the morning. He had a set of scrubs for me to change into. Put these on, he said, handing them over. If anyone asks, you're having tests done. I changed quickly, and he led me through a series of hallways, using his key card at several doors.

We ended up in a small. Office with a computer. I've been looking into. Your case, he said. Logging into the system, checking the records for the soldiers you mentioned from E7, he pulled up a file.

And turned the screen toward me. Sergeant Isabel Alexander, officially killed in action three months ago during a convoy ambush near Kandahar. My stomach dropped. That's impossible. She was with me at E7 two weeks ago.

He pulled up more files. Lieutenant William Blair, discharged for medical reasons four months ago. Corporal Leroy Chang, killed by an IED six weeks ago. He looked at me. Every name you gave me, they're all either dead or discharged.

According to official records, they were never stationed together. They're erasing us. I said, the realization hitting me hard. Making it like E7 never existed. Alex nodded grimly.

But that's not all. He pulled up another file, a map with a large area marked in red. This is the region. Where you said E7. Was located.

It's been designated as restricted military territory for decades, but I found references to it being off limits going back much further. How much further? Centuries, Millennia even. There are declassified documents mentioning British forces restricting access to that area during colonial occupation. Ottoman records before that.

Persian. Roman. He looked up at me. Whatever's there, people have been guarding it for at least 3000 years. I thought about what Azathoth.

Had said in the. Void. Many structures have been built above me. Many guardians have watched. They've always known.

I said quietly. Maybe not what it was, but they knew something was there. Alex started to respond, but footsteps in the hallway made us both freeze. He quickly closed the files and shut down the computer. We need to get you back, he whispered.

We made it back to my room. Without being seen. Before leaving, Alex pressed something into my hand. A small flash drive, everything I found. Is on here.

He said keep it hidden. That night, I couldn't sleep. We kept thinking about what Alex had shown me. Thousands of years of people guarding something they didn't understand. E7 was just the latest in a long line of watchers, and now it was gone, along with almost everyone who'd been there.

I woke suddenly around 4:00 in the morning. Something felt different. I sat up and felt. Something hard under my. Pillow reaching beneath it.

My fingers touched a. Smooth cold surface. I pulled it out and nearly dropped it. A small black cube. Sat in my palm.

Identical to the one I'd found in the desert, but miniaturized to about an inch on each side. The perfect blackness absorbed light, and it felt both heavy and weightless. I looked around the room, heart pounding. The shadows on the walls had stopped their usual patterns, and we're now completely still, as if waiting.

The cube felt cold. I knew I should put it. Down call for help. Do anything but keep holding it. But I couldn't let it go.

It had found me again, or I had found it. Either way, I. Knew what would happen if I. Kept holding it. The same thing that happened in the desert.

The void as a thought. But this time I wasn't going to let go. The world dissolved around me, not like before. This time, there was no violent yanking, no sense of being torn from my body. Instead, the hospital room simply melted away, the white walls and beige floor fading like watercolors in rain.

The frozen shadows on the. Walls stretched. And flowed into the darkness surrounding me. I floated in a void. That felt both empty.

And impossibly crowded. The weight of the cube remained in my palm, heavier than its size suggested, like holding a tiny black hole. You have returned, Harold. The voice didn't come from anywhere. It was everywhere inside my head and all around me.

I remembered it from the desert as a thought. I didn't have much choice, I said, or thought. In this place, the distinction didn't seem to matter. You always have choice. You chose to touch the fragment again.

It was right. I had made that decision, knowing what might happen. What are you? I asked. The darkness shifted.

I felt rather than saw something vast moving around me, like being underwater with a whale, knowing something enormous was there without being able to see it all at once. I am older than your species. I have been called many names. The void rippled, and suddenly I wasn't floating anymore. I stood on solid ground.

No, not ground stone. A massive stone platform surrounded by jungle. People in elaborate feathered headdresses bowed before a black structure at the center of the platform. The structure looked like my cube, but enormous, at least 30 feet tall. The Maya?

I whispered. They built temples to me. They sacrificed to me. They thought blood would keep me sleeping. The scene changed.

Now I stood in a desert, watching men in ancient Egyptian garb constructing what looked like the foundation of a pyramid. At its center sat another. Black Cube. They buried me. Deep and built monuments.

To contain me, the scenes began. To shift faster. Roman soldiers guarding a black shrine. Viking warriors burning a village that had constructed a cube shaped altar. Medieval Knights slaughtering peasants near a black monolith.

You caused all those civilizations to collapse, I said. Not caused. I am the collapse. More images flashed before me. The fall of Rome.

Mayan cities being reclaimed by jungle. Egyptian monuments half buried in sand every time you wake up. You destroy everything. I do not destroy, I transform. Your kind builds cages around my fragments.

When I stir, the cages break, the vision stopped and I was back in the void. E7 was just another cage, I said, understanding dawning. Just like all the others throughout history, the most recent of many, your military found my resting place. They built walls and symbols to contain me, as others have done before, but they didn't know what they were guarding.

They knew enough to fear me. They sensed my stirring. They felt my dreams leaking into theirs. Troy Smith's nightmares, the soldiers talking in their sleep, the strange symbols that seem to move when you weren't looking directly at them. You said you're transforming, not destroying.

What does that mean? I am stretching after a long sleep. E7 was merely A yawn. The implications hit me like. A punch to the gut.

You're not fully awake yet? No. When will you be? Soon the darkness pulsed around me and I saw flashes of cities worldwide. New York, Tokyo, London, Moscow, all with thin columns of black light rising from different points within them.

Your military has known about me for generations, as a thought continued. They build bases to monitor my prison. They study my fragments. They think they understand, but they comprehend nothing. How many fragments are there?

Many scattered when I first came to this world. The one you found in the desert. Was the largest. The one you hold now is the smallest. I look down at the cube still.

In my hand. And each one is part of you, Each one is me. I am not divided, I am multiplied. The darkness began to. Pulse more rapidly.

The void contracting around me. What happens when you fully wake up? Change evolution. Those who are connected to me will transform. Others will not survive the transition.

Connected. You mean like me? You are my herald. You touched me willingly twice. You opened the door.

The void began to dissolve, the hospital room slowly reappearing around me. Wait, I need to know more. You will see. Go to where it began. Return to my awakening place.

E7. But there's nothing there anymore. There is everything there. Go Harold. Witness my rising.

The void vanished completely and I was back in my room, sitting on my bed, the small black cube still in my hand. The shadows on the walls had stopped moving, returning to normal patterns cast by the overhead light. Something felt wrong. The room was too quiet. I looked up and saw Alex.

He was on the floor near the door, his body bent at angles that weren't possible. His head was twisted completely backward, eyes wide open and completely black like pools of ink. His mouth was stretched in a silent scream, jaw extended far beyond what a human jaw should be able to do. I dropped the cube on the bed and scrambled backward until I hit the wall, my heart pounding.

Alex. I whispered, though I knew he couldn't answer. His body looked like. It had been rearranged by. Someone who had only a passing familiarity with human anatomy, his arms bent.

Backward at the elbows. Fingers splayed in impossible directions, his chest had collapsed inward as if something had crushed him from the inside. The door to my room burst open and an orderly rushed in. He took one look at Alex's body and started screaming. I grabbed the cube from the bed and shoved it into the pocket of my scrubs.

The orderly backed. Out of the room still. Screaming, and I heard alarms begin to sound throughout the ward. More shouting echoed down the hallway. I stepped carefully around Alex's body and peered out the door.

The hallway was chaos. Hospital staff ran in all directions, and I saw another patient on the floor, his body melting into a puddle of something that looked like black oil. A woman in a white coat. Not Doctor Henry. Someone else stood frozen in place as her hand began to dissolve, black light pouring from the stump of her wrist.

She wasn't screaming, she was watching it happen with a look of fascination on her face. I needed to get out now. I slipped into the hallway, moving against the flow of panicked staff. No one paid attention to me. They were too busy running from whatever was happening.

I made it to the stairwell and took the steps 2 at a time. Heading down the ground floor was even worse. Patients and staff alike were transforming or dissolving. Some stood still, black light pouring from their eyes and mouths. Others ran in terror.

A security guard near the main entrance had his gun drawn, but his arm was bent backward at the shoulder, the weapon pointed at his own face. I ducked behind a reception desk as the guards gun went off. I didn't look to see what happened. The exit was 30 feet away. I took a deep breath and ran for it, weaving between people and puddles of black liquid that I refused to look at too closely outside the.

Sun was just rising. Painting the sky pink and orange, the contrast with the horror inside was jarring. I kept running. Past the parking lot. Toward a motor pool I'd spotted during my weeks at the facility, 3 jeeps sat in a row, keys hanging on a board inside a small shed.

No one was around. Everyone was either dealing with a chaos inside or had already fled. I grabbed a set of keys, jumped into the nearest Jeep, and started the engine. As I pulled away from the facility, I felt the cube in my pocket grow warmer. A strange certainty filled me.

I knew exactly where. I needed to go. The coordinates of echo. Seven were burned into. My memory and an overwhelming compulsion pulled me in that direction.

I drove for hours, stopping only when the Jeep needed gas at a small station off. The Highway I. Filled the tank while keeping my head down, aware that my hospital scrubs made me stand out inside the shop. A small. TV behind the counter showed news reports that made my blood run cold unexplained.

Phenomena reported in. Major cities worldwide, the newscaster was saying, her voice steady but her eyes betraying fear. Officials are urging. People to remain calm. As authorities investigate these incidents, the footage showed a park in what looked like Chicago where a column of black light rose from the ground.

People nearby were either running or standing, transfixed. Some appeared to be changing their bodies, contorting in ways that the camera quickly cut away from. Similar incidents have been reported in London, Beijing, Moscow and Sydney, the newscaster continued. Scientists are baffled by what some are calling localized gravitational anomalies, though no official explanation has been provided.

I paid for the gas with cash I'd found in the Jeep's glove compartment and got back on the road, my hands shaking on the steering wheel. At another stop a few hours later, the news had gotten worse. The black light phenomena were spreading. Cities were being evacuated. Military forces had been deployed.

The president was scheduled to address the nation that evening. Witnesses described seeing strange symbols appearing on buildings and roads near the anomalies, a field reporter said, standing at what looked like a safe distance from a cordoned off area Behind him, I could make out a thin column of darkness rising between two office buildings.

I knew those symbols. They were the same ones that had been carved into the concrete barriers at E7, the same ones that had formed in the shadows on my hospital room walls. What Azathoth had told me was true. What had happened at Echo? 7 was spreading.

Across the world. This wasn't just about 1 military base in the desert anymore, This was global. I got back in the Jeep and continued driving, the Cube in my pocket. Pulsed with warmth. Like a heartbeat growing stronger as I got closer to my destination.

I didn't know what I would find. When I reached the. Coordinates where E7 had once stood. I didn't know why Azathoth. Wanted me there.

Or what role I was supposed to play as its herald. All I knew was that I had to go. Something was pulling me forward, something stronger than fear or doubt. As the sun began to set, painting the desert in gold and red, I checked the gpsi was getting close. Within an hour, I would reach the place where everything had started, Where I had first touched the cube where Azathoth had first spoken to me.

Where, according to the entity that had shown me visions of collapsed civilizations, everything was about to change. I parked the stolen Jeep at the edge of a Ridge and killed the engine. The coordinates matched. This was where E7 should have been, But instead of empty desert, I looked down at a sprawling excavation site that stretched nearly half a mile across.

Floodlights on tall poles cast harsh white light over the entire area, making it as bright as day despite the setting sun. Military vehicles formed a perimeter around the site, and dozens of people in uniform and lab coats moved with purpose between temporary structures. At the center of it all was a massive black structure, partially unearthed from the sand.

My breath caught in my chest. It was a cube, identical to the one I'd touched in the desert, but enormous. At least 30 feet of it was exposed, with teams still digging to reveal more. The small cube in my. Pocket pulsed with.

Heat, as if responding to its larger counterpart, I pressed my hand. Against it through the thin. Fabric of the hospital scrubs as a thought, I whispered. I needed to get closer. I slid down the sandy slope, keeping low.

The site was busy enough that. One more person might. Go unnoticed. If I moved confidently, I grabbed a hard hat from an. Unattended rack near.

The edge of the site and put it on, hoping it might help me blend in. I made it about 50 yards into the site before I spotted him. Colonel Scott Contreras stood on a raised platform near the cube, pointing at something on a tablet while speaking to a group of people in white hazmat suits.

My legs nearly gave out. He was supposed to be dead, consumed by the black light. Like everyone else at E7, I froze. Unsure what to do next. Before I could decide, someone grabbed my arm from behind.

Hey, this is a restricted area. I turned to face A. Security guard in tactical. Gear, his hand already moving to the radio on his shoulder before he could call it in. Another guard.

Approached, then a third. They surrounded me quickly, Sir. We have an intruder at. The South quadrant, one said into his radio. I didn't resist as they.

Took hold of my arms. What was the point? I'd come here for answers and running wouldn't get me any. The guards marched me. Toward the command platform.

Colonel Scott looked up from his tablet, his expression shifting from annoyance to recognition. Private Leonard. He said, handing the tablet to someone beside him. I was wondering when you'd show up. You're alive.

I said the. Words coming out flat and hollow. Scott's mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. As are you. Bring him to my office, he told the guards.

They led me to a prefab structure about 100 yards from the excavation. Inside was a simple desk, 2 chairs and walls covered in maps and satellite images. The guards positioned themselves outside. After pushing me in, Scott entered a moment. Later closing the.

Door behind him. He looked exactly as I remembered. The same weathered face, the same cold eyes. He sat behind the desk and gestured for me to take the other chair. You look terrible.

He said. I looked down at my hospital. Scrubs. Filthy from days of travel. I thought you were dead.

Yes, that was the intended impression. He folded his hands on the desk. Tell me private. How did you find your way? Back here I felt the cube in.

My pocket pulse again. As a Thoth brought me back, Scott's eyes narrowed slightly. I see. And what exactly did it tell? You that I'm it's Herald.

I leaned forward. What happened at E7? I saw everyone die. Did you? Scott asked.

Or did you see what we wanted you to see? My head started to hurt. What are you talking about? E7 was never just a base, Leonard. It was a controlled experiment.

Scott opened a drawer. And pulled out a file. We've known about the artifact for generations. What we didn't understand was how it affects human consciousness. So we created a testing ground.

A testing ground? I repeated the words, feeling wrong in my mouth. We selected soldiers with specific psychological profiles, administered carefully, designed compounds through the water supply, and exposed you all to a fragment of the artifact. He tapped the file. Your reactions were.

Monitored and recorded. The symbols, the nightmares, the visions, all induced responses we wanted to study. But Izzy, Sergeant Alexander, I saw her die, I saw her body. The memory of her being pulled apart made my stomach turn. Advanced holographic projection combined with the drugs in your system.

Scott shrugged. Very convincing, I'm told. And Amber, was she part of your experiment too? Something flickered across Scott's face, the first genuine emotion I'd seen. Specialist Bush.

Wasn't supposed to leave with you. Her death was unfortunate, the casual way he. Dismissed her, made my. Hands clench into fists. You let her die in the desert.

We had more pressing concerns. Scott stood up. Something went wrong with the. Experiment. Leonard, you weren't supposed to form a direct connection with the entity.

No one has ever done that before. And now Azathoth is awakening worldwide. I know. I've seen the news. What you've seen is just.

The beginning. Scott walked to a map on the. Wall showing. Red dots scattered across every continent we've detected activity at. 37 sites.

Globally, ancient containment structures are failing, Black light phenomena are appearing in major cities. And it all started when you touched the cube. I felt the weight of his accusation. You put me there. We did.

And now you're going to help us. Fix it. He turned back to face me. The entity responds to you. It communicates with you.

We need that connection. For what? To stop it? Scott's expression. Hardened to.

Control it. The cube in my pocket grew warmer, almost burning against my leg. I shifted in my seat. To ease the pressure. You can't control.

It, I said. As a Thoth is ancient, it's been here longer than us. It will be here after we're gone. That's where you're wrong. Scott pressed a button on his desk.

The door opened and two guards entered every force in. Nature can be harnessed with the. Right approach. Even this one. The guards pulled me to my feet.

Scott stepped closer. Think about it, Leonard. An energy source that can disintegrate matter, that can cross dimensional boundaries, that can influence human consciousness across vast distances. The applications are extensive. It's not a weapon.

I said. It's not even really alive, not in the way we understand it. It's something else entirely. That's not for you to decide. Scott nodded to the guards.

Take him to Doctor Reeves at the excavation site. She'll prepare him for direct contact as they dragged me. Outside I looked. Up at the night sky, I remembered what Azathoth had shown me. Civilizations rising and falling, all trying to contain or control its power, All failing.

The guards marched me toward the massive black cube. More of it had been exposed in the short time I'd been in Scott's office. Teams of workers were attaching sensors and equipment to its surface, which swallowed light just like the smaller fragment I'd first encountered. A woman in a white coat approached us. This is the subject?

She asked, not looking at me but at the tablet in her hands. Yes, ma'am. One of the guards answered. Colonel's orders are to prep him for direct contact. She looked up at me.

Then her eyes. Clinical and detached, I'm Doctor Reeves. You're going to help us. Communicate with the entity. I don't think you.

Understand what you're dealing with. I said. On the contrary, she gestured for the. Guards to follow her. We've been studying these.

Artifacts for decades. What we lack is a proven conduit, someone who can establish two way communication. That's you. They led me to a small tent filled with monitoring equipment. Doctor Reeves instructed me to sit in a chair at the center while technicians attach sensors to my forehead and chest.

The process is simple, she explained, typing something into a computer. We'll monitor your vital signs while you make physical contact with the artifact. You will attempt to communicate our questions to the entity. And what questions would those be? I asked.

How to control the energy it produces. She didn't look up from her screen how to direct it, how to contain it when necessary. The cube in my pocket. Was now hot enough that I. Was sure it would burn through the fabric at any moment.

None of them had searched me. They had no idea I was carrying a fragment of Azathoth with me. Doctor Reeve stepped back. We're ready. Take him to the contact.

Point The guards pulled me up. And out of the tent. We walked toward the massive cube, now fully illuminated by spotlights that somehow made it look even darker by contrast. A metal platform had been constructed leading up to its surface, with restraints attached to a standing frame. You're going to strap me to that thing?

I asked. The connection can cause convulsions, Dr. Reeves said matter of factly. The restraints are for your safety. As we approach the platform, the cube in my pocket vibrated In Sync with energy pulses coming from the massive structure.

Black light leaked from its surface, streaking across the Obsidian face. Doctor Reeves saw it too. It's responding to. His presence, she. Said into a handheld recorder, increasing activity by approximately 40%.

I looked around and saw Colonel Scott watching from a distance, surrounded by military officials. Their faces were tense, expectant. They thought they were about to gain. Control of the. Most powerful force they'd ever encountered.

They were wrong. I understood what needed to happen, not because Azathoth told me, but because I had seen enough to know the truth. This wasn't about. Controlling or destroying? Azathoth it was about understanding it, and I was the only one who could.

As they led me up the platform steps, the black light pulses grew stronger. The small cube in my. Pocket felt like it was. Trying to break free, the guards gripped my arms. Tighter as we reached.

The top, Dr. Reeves stood to the side, monitoring readings on her tablet. Prepare the subject for contact, she ordered. One guard reached for the restraint frame in that split second. Of distraction I.

Made my move. I twisted sharply, breaking free from their grip. Before anyone could react, I pulled the small cube from my pocket and lunged toward the massive structure. The guards shouted behind me. I heard Scott yelling orders, but I was already running.

The small cube held out before me like a key, straight toward the pulsing heart of Azathoth's largest fragment. I hit the massive cube running, my arms outstretched, feeling the small fragment burning in my palm. The surface of the giant cube looked like a hole torn in reality. Not black like paint or night, but an absence that hurt my eyes to look at.

I slammed both hands against it. The world disappeared. This time there was no violent transition, just a gentle surrender. My consciousness expanded outward, no longer bound by my body or human perception. I became part of something vast and ancient, a consciousness too alien to understand.

You have returned, Harold. A Zathoth's voice filled the endless void around me, inside me, unlike before. I didn't fight the. Connection. I didn't try to pull away or maintain separation.

Instead I pushed deeper, offering everything I was. I'm not here to control. You, I said. Or thought or felt. Communication worked differently here.

I'm not here to fight you. They sent you to bind me, to make me a weapon. I'm not with them, I answered. I'm here because I need to understand I glimpsed Earth's. History through the void.

Civilizations rising and falling, each building structures to contain Azathoth's fragments. Scott was right. For thousands of years, humans had studied this entity, passing knowledge through generations while attempting to harness its power. You are different. From the others.

I gathered every human experience I could remember. My mother's smile on my 5th birthday, the sting of my first broken heart, the pride when I graduated basic training, The terror of watching Izzy die, the warmth of Amber's hand on mine in the desert. I offered these memories like gifts, pushing them toward the consciousness that surrounded me.

This is what we are, I said. Not just fear and control. We're more than that. I showed Azathoth children playing in a park, an old couple holding hands, a soldier carrying a wounded civilian to safety. I showed it music and art and poetry, all the ways humans try to make sense of existence.

I showed it grief and joy and love and rage, the full spectrum of human emotion. Curious. Your kind has. Always feared me, tried to use me. Never understood me.

We fear what we don't understand, I said. And some people want power more than understanding. But not all of us. The void pulsed around me. Something shifted in Azathoth's consciousness.

Not sympathy, but recognition. For the first time in millennia, Azathoth saw humanity as more than insects to be transformed or destroyed. You would speak for your kind, I can only speak for myself. I answered honestly. But I think we deserve more time.

We're young compared to you. We're still learning. The void was silent for what felt like eternity. Then slowly, I felt the connection beginning to fade. I will consider your words, Harold.

I will watch and wait. Thank you, I whispered as reality began to reassert itself around me. But know this, I cannot be contained forever. One day I will return, and you will announce my coming. The void collapsed and I was thrown back into my body with enough force to knock the wind from my lungs.

I knelt in the sand, hands pressed against the massive cube. It was sinking, slowly at first, then faster, disappearing into the earth. The black light that had. Leaked from its surface. Receded, pulling back into the structure as it descended.

Stop him. Don't let it get away. Scott's voice cut through my days. I turned to see him running toward me, face twisted with rage and fear. Behind him, soldiers and scientists scrambled down the sandy slope, some trying to reach me, others backing away from the sinking cube.

Scott reached for me. But an invisible. Force knocked him backward. He landed hard in the sand, cursing and spitting. The same force kept the others at Bay.

A perfect circle around me in the cube that no one could cross. What have you done? Scott screamed, struggling to his feet. Do you have any idea what you've cost us? The power we could have harnessed.

I watched as the. Last corner of the massive cube. Disappeared beneath the sand, leaving nothing but smooth desert floor where it had been. The small fragment I'd carried had vanished from my hand, gone back to join the hole. It's not gone, I said, my voice hoarse.

It's just waiting. The invisible barrier dropped. As suddenly as it had. Appeared two soldiers grabbed my arms roughly pulling me to my feet. My legs felt like rubber and exhaustion hit me like a physical weight.

I didn't resist as they zip tied my wrists. Scott stalked over, his face inches from mine. You'll spend the rest of your life in a hole so deep they'll have to pipe in Sunshine, Sir. A technician ran up. Holding a tablet.

Reports coming in from all. Sites the. Phenomena are stopping. New York, London, Beijing, all readings are dropping to baseline. Scott grabbed the tablet, eyes widening as he scrolled through the data.

That's impossible. It was active at 37 sites worldwide. All returning to normal, Sir, whatever he did. The technician glanced. At me nervously.

Scott looked at me with a mixture of fury and disbelief. What did you do? What did you say to it? I showed it who we are, I said simply. All of us not.

Just the parts that. Want to use it as a weapon? Scott stared at me for a long moment, then turned to the soldiers holding me. Get him to the transport. Full security protocol.

They dragged me across the. Sand toward a waiting. Helicopter. My body felt hollow, drained of energy, but my mind was clearer than it had been in months. I knew what had happened.

What I had become. Aza Thoth hadn't been defeated, destroyed or banished. It had simply chosen to. Wait and watch. Humanity through my eyes.

The connection between. US remained across. Dimensions. I could feel its presence. In my mind.

As the soldiers. Loaded me into the helicopter. I looked out across the empty desert where E7 had once stood. The military would keep me locked up, study me, try to understand what had happened. They might even believe they were containing the threat.

But I knew better as a Thoth was ancient. Beyond human. Comprehension. Patient in a way we could never be. It would sleep again, perhaps for centuries or millennia.

And when it finally decided to return, I would be it's herald, the one who announced it's coming. Until then I would. Live with this connection. Aware of something vast, watching through my eyes, not with fear, but understanding. Not as its slave, but as the bridge between two existences.

The helicopter lifted off, carrying me away from the desert. The sand had already shifted, erasing evidence of what happened. No one would know how close we came to transformation, or that we only received a reprieve. I closed my eyes as the connection pulsed once, then went silent.