The bots were trailing him. He was sure of it. He took a deep breath, trying to resist the encroaching fear that threatened to consume his body. With the snow crawler girl in his arms, he wasn't confident if outrunning the bots was an option at this point. Careful as to not provoke the bots into immediate action he maintained his steady pace.

Cyne cursed his weakness. If he had left the girl in the room, then out-running the bots would've still been an option. His compassion was to blame for this, his single, random act of kindness had come back around to bite him in the ass. As if sensing his negative thoughts, the girl in his arms began to fidget and squirm.

"No, now is not the time for this," he hissed, giving her a hard jostle.

With her eyes still peeled shut, she grabbed onto one of his arms, her nails pressed deep into his pale forearm.

"Damn it! Wait a minute, are you actually awake right now?"

The girl loosened her grip but he spotted the unmistakable trace of a faint smile on her face. "Behave or I'll throw you to the bots," he snarled.

She snorted, pulling away from his embrace.

"Hey! You are awake! Were you even sick in the first place?"

Feeling the rumble of the bots draw nearer, Cyne quickened his pace. The bots retaliated likewise, their slow trot forming into a steady staccato.

Seeing the opportunity to lost the bots, he broke into a sprint towards an open sliding door at the end of the hall. Moving nimbly, he gave a power switch by the side a quick kick before darting through it. He prayed the switch was for the door, if the door couldn't stop them nothing could.

As the door slid to the left, the bots froze in their tracks, not moving even an inch further. They simply stared at him with their eerie, green eyes. No, they weren't staring at him. They were staring beyond him. Cyne followed their gazes to behind him.

Stepping into the room was like stepping into another dimension. Wherever he was, it definitely was not the Prototek facility. The room extended into a tunnel, blue, glowing vines snaked down from the ceiling, illuminating the tunnel in an alluring shade of blue.

The young girl in his arms rustled in her sleep. She somehow looked… less pale. He gently set her down onto the floor and checked her temperature once more. The very fever that threatened her life only moments ago seemed to be receding.

"Something is wrong, this place isn't right," he muttered, picking her back up again.

Cyne made his way down the tunnel with bated breath, at the end of the tunnel was a door made of stone. This was something that predated even pre-schism times, a ruin from an era long gone.

The boy gently nudged the door with his foot, the door gave way with no resistance. The door led into a hall filled with neat rows of bots as far as the eye could see. They were strange, like nothing he had ever seen before. Each bot bore a different face, some old and wrinkled, others young and fresh-faced.

He was no expert on bots, but a sinking feeling told him that whatever was used to design this hall was far beyond current technological capabilities. After finding a small cot for the girl to sleep on, he draped his jacket over her fragile body. He wanted to leave, to escape this room, and never come back. but something within him was beckoning him deeper into the hall.

Passing by seemingly endless rows of near-humanoid like bots, he grimaced as the bitter wind bit at his bare flesh. Cyne froze. "Wind! If there's wind, that means there's also a way out."

With renewed vigor, he sprinted down the narrow path. What awaited him was not the exit he had been hoping for, but another door. A wooden one. Uttering a frustrated howl, Cyne slashed through the hinges of the door.

"Damn it! Why won't you let me out! Why!" he roared, sending the door flying back with a kick. Seething, he stormed into the room, half-expecting to see another cave. But it wasn't a cave. It was another room.

Like the cave from before, blue vines hung down from the ceiling. What drew the attention of Cyne was the life-pod situated in the center of the room. The pods' display panel read green. The person inside the pod was still among the living.

Wiping condensation off the pod's front aperture he was shocked to find a woman behind the glass. She seemed older than him by a few years, but also at the same time not. She was the very definition of perfect.

Clear, unblemished skin and fair, wheat-like locks of supple hair that cascaded down to her waist. She was in a simple cloth dress, but she made it seem fit for a queen. She was different. Too different. Like she had fallen down from the heavens and onto mortal grounds.

"Beautiful isn't she?" a voice muttered from behind.

Cyne swiveled around, drawing his pistol at the voice. A palm-sized sphere was suspended off the ground, a single glowing, green eye staring at Cyne.

"Hello. My name is Muriel."