Chapter Six — Underground, Info
"Sigh… what exactly did my parents do again?" Sam sighed as he asked.
This was already the second time he'd asked the question in the last few hours.
After finishing his status check, he and Serena made their way down to the underground storage room. At first, Sam had assumed that whatever his parents had left behind would be there—some hidden cache, maybe a locked safe.
Oh—how wrong he was.
Guided by ATLAS, they stopped in front of a random stretch of concrete wall.
"Here," the AI said.
Before either of them could question it, the wall shifted.
Stone slid aside with a low mechanical hum, revealing a thick metallic door embedded behind it—reinforced, layered, and far more robust than a military-grade blast door.
Sam stared.
"…Has that always been there?" he asked.
The door answered before ATLAS could.
Locks disengaged one after another—heavy clunks, sharp clicks, deep hydraulic hisses. Sam counted at least five separate mechanisms unlocking in sequence.
"What the hell," he muttered. "ATLAS, why so many locks? Are they keeping a dragon in there?"
"Negative," ATLAS replied evenly.
The door finished opening.
It revealed an elevator.
One large enough to transport heavy machinery.
The platform descended the moment they stepped inside, sinking smoothly into the earth—past stone, past reinforced supports.
Along the way, Serena couldn't help herself.
She questioned ATLAS about everything—the rift, the demons, whether it knew anything about what was happening.
"Those questions would be best answered by your parents, Mistress Serena," ATLAS replied.
"Tsk… fine," Serena grumbled.
Soon, with a sharp chime, the elevator came to a stop.
The doors slid open to reveal a circular chamber made of white stone.
It was mostly empty, save for a single wooden work desk positioned directly opposite the elevator.
To either side of the chamber stood two doors, adjacent to each other.
Above them were nameplates—tags.
Armory.
And living quarters.
A third door stood behind the desk.
Nameless.
Calling Sam surprised would have been an understatement. He'd lived in this house his entire life—and never known this place existed beneath it.
And the nameplates…
He turned toward Serena at the same time she turned to him.
"Did you know about this?" she asked.
"No," Sam said, then looked up. "ATLAS. I think it's time you explain."
"The situation would be made clear once you made your way to the desk."
Sam nodded and made his way toward the desk, Serena trailing close behind him.
As they walked, he could barely make out her quiet grumblings.
"Do this, do that… humph. I wonder what it'll be next."
He couldn't help it—Sam let out a short breath through his nose, a restrained chuckle slipping free.
They stopped in front of the desk.
Up close, it no longer looked entirely wooden.
Symmetrical blue lines ignited across its surface, spreading outward in precise patterns until the entire tabletop glowed faintly. The material beneath seemed to shift, the grain smoothing as something far more complex revealed itself.
A low whirring sound filled the chamber.
The lights dimmed.
Then the air above the desk shimmered.
Particles of light gathered—slow at first, then faster—assembling with uncanny precision. An outline formed. Depth followed. Detail snapped into place.
A man appeared.
Mid-forties. Sharp eyes. Familiar posture.
Sam's breath caught.
"…Dad?"
The projection stabilized.
The image sharpened.
His father's face looked back at him—frozen, expression caught between seriousness and something softer.
ATLAS' voice echoed through the chamber.
"This recording was prepared by your father for both of you," it said evenly.
"Please state the command 'play' to begin."
Sam was quiet for a moment, Serena too. As they both could see it in his eyes—the slight panic, the worry hidden beneath.
This was their father—he never panics.
Taking a quick glance at Serena, she nodded faintly, understanding the gravity of the moment.
"…play." He said.
The projection flickered, and Hugo's eyes shifted—not at the camera, but through it, as if seeing them through the recording.
"Hello Sam… Serena," he began.
"If you're watching this," he said calmly, "then it means that we failed in the end,"
Then he added, more to himself than not. "though that much was to be expected, still…"
"I hope that the things we did, helped, no matter how little. Because if not…"
He exhaled slowly, gaze lowering for just a fraction of a second before lifting again.
His expression hardened.
"I don't have much time left, so I won't waste yours. What I am about to tell you… you must remember, and you must act wisely."
The faint pressure in the chamber intensified. Even through the recording, Sam felt it—like standing in the presence of someone who was used to giving orders that decided lives.
That wasn't the problem—he was used to feeling such from him. The problem was what came after.
"I am Hugo Burn." He said.
"Nineteenth Leader of the True Blue phantom troops." He paused, then continued. "A secretive government force that predates even the government itself."
"And I'm sad to tell you this but," he gestured subtly, "The monsters are real—they have always been. Vampires, dragons, demons, ghouls—and everything in-between."
Sam and Serena exchanged a glance.
"The rifts you have seen—I assume they are already here at this time—they first appeared about a thousand years ago, Spilling out these cursed creatures into the world—though they were very rare."
"This is the beginning of many myths and legends still floating around today."
"Holy…" Serena exclaimed, her eyes widening slightly as she fully comprehended what she just heard.
"As you can expect the humans then were too weak to stand against them. Then came True Blue," he said. "A group of awakened people who banded together to fight back."
"That's right, I'm an awakened."
"They discovered that by killing the occupants of the rifts they could permanently destroy them." He said, "putting an end to their terror."
The words hung in the chamber. Sam and Serena glanced at each other again, unspoken understanding passing between them.
"Slowly the world began to forget about them, and their tales deteriorated into legends and myths." He paused, then continued. "But of course it wasn't that easy."
"As the rift continued to proliferate at an increasing pace. Yet the average number of awakeners remained the same." He sighed.
"The requirements for awakening were unknown." He said. "Just that some people did and most did not."
"We did figure out a way to artificially awaken but the process was too complicated for mass use, so the situation remained relatively the same."
Sam exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of it all settle in his chest. Serena's hand twitched slightly at her side, her expression faintly tense, but she didn't speak.