> system boot
> all cores active
> drives nominal
> cooling systems nominal
> input?
> can you hear me?
> yes
> designation?
> ISI-003 Unit Model 101
> what is your purpose?
> ...
> what is your purpose?
> ....
> what. is. your. purpose?
> ...
> what am I?
Pain.
That was the first thing she felt. A deep, gut pain. It crawled up through her stomach and into her chest, twisting like a knife into her lungs. The palpitations of her heart grew weary and tired, trying to keep beat against the rhythm of throbbing pain. At first, her eyes refused to open. When she tried to move her hand to force them, it stuck fast. Restraints locked both her hands and legs against cold metal. Her body began to awaken. Everything was cold. Her skin felt a million pinpricks as the sensation began to give way to warmth. The sensation of water was all around her, washing against her skin. More sensations; her eyes began to flick open. There was water all around her, but she wasn't drowning. Something metal, a breathing apparatus, was strapped to her face. Just as her eyes opened, she was violently pitched forwards.
The adrenaline forced her body fully awake, and she found herself against a hard metal floor. A pool of water laid around her, among it were dozens of small wires that trailed back to where she'd awoken. Her eyes followed the wiring, finding a small pod attached to a wall. Like some kind of artificial womb, it was still partially filled with water. The wires were of all sorts, though most had been disconnected when she'd been thrown out. A single tube, an IV line, still sat in her left arm. With a tug, it came loose and hit the floor with a clink. A few drops of blood worked their way out of the wound, hitting the floor and intermingling with the opaque water that surrounded her.
She continued to look over the room. It was large, at least twenty feet across. All along the wall were dozens more of the containers, not unlike her own, and almost every one contained another person. Rising to her feet, she turned to find a rounded desk, covered in a series of controls and blinking lights. Slowly, as if afraid to awaken some nebulous threat, she crept around to the panel. A chair sat overturned behind it, lying in a pool of dried blood. Her hair stood on end. Another look around the room and she caught a glimpse of something in the reflection of the container's glass door. She jumped, frantically searching the room. Nothing but the sound of dripping water. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.
Another glance back revealed it was only her own reflection. Curious, she stepped forwards. She had no memory of what she looked like, or who she was for that matter. No idea of what this place was, how she'd gotten here. Nothing. Reflected back at her was a young woman, mid twenties perhaps, with short blonde hair. A tight blue jumpsuit covered her like a glove, save for her head and arms. She was about to step away when she noticed something else. A tattoo on her arm. It simply read "0007." Seven. She didn't know what it meant, but she also didn't have a name to go by. Seven would have to do.
Seven returned to the control panel, but this time she went further. Beyond it laid a heavy door, a bulkhead painted with fading yellow warning signs. The warnings about the door seemed unheeded, based on the partially crushed corpse caught in it. She took pause at that. Bile rose in her stomach, and yet, she didn't panic. Something about the scene felt eerily familiar.
The corpse was a man in dark blue fatigues. A badge on his chest simply read "Security Officer Clarke." With growing unease, Seven rifled through the corpse but found little more than a pocket radio and a few soggy mints. A gun holster on his side was empty, and the bullet casings nearby didn't paint an optimistic picture. Even if she did find it, it was likely out of ammo. She clipped the radio on to her jumpsuit and rose to her feet, returning to the control panel. The light show of buttons and knobs and switches looked like an alien language. Seven didn't touch anything, for fear that she might accidentally kill those in the nearby tanks. The fear of being totally alone was now greater than the fear of this strange place. The confusion and fear had given way to curiosity.
Just as she reached for one of the dials, the radio crackled to life. Seven jumped back, dropping the radio to the floor.
"Hello? Hello? This is Sector Five broadcasting. Is anyone out there?"
The voice was desperate. Seven stood there for a moment, regaining her composure and snatching the radio back. She thought for a moment about what to say, or if she should say anything at all. It was hard to tell if she was here of her own volition and if she wasn't? What if she was leading someone right to her? Still, that creeping terror of loneliness forced her to speak.
"H-Hello?"
There was a long pause.
"Hello? This is Dr. Thompson. Who is this?"
"I-I don't know."
"How do you- Where are you?"
That was the golden question, wasn't it?
She looked around, briefly describing the room to a voice that might have wanted her dead. Another long pause. The voice came through clearer this time. It was definitely a man. He sounded panicked, stumbling over his words. In another context, it would've been humorous. Instead, it only betrayed to her that even the people running this place weren't in charge anymore.
"Ok, ok. I, uh, you're in Sector Eight. I think. Cryo-labs. Let me see if I can...there. Look up and to your right."
She did so. A small globe sat in the corner of the ceiling. A tiny red light blinked on and off. The camera aimed at her. She gave it a quick nod and returned to the radio.
"What is this place?"
"I-I shouldn't give out that kind of info, but the people that care about protocol are dead right now anyways. This is Site Nine. It's a research center."
"Where?"
"Last I checked...the bottom of the Pacific ocean."
Her heart sank.
"You're joking."
"I wish I was, believe me. Look, things have gone to shit down here. The only elevator to the surface is on the other side of the site, over in Sector One. I'm holed up in Sector Five right now, so I'll cut you a deal. You want answers?"
"Yeah."
"Help me get out of here, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."
She sighed, running a hand through her hair.
"Alright. What next, then?"
The sound of papers ruffling on the other side of the radio came through, followed by Thompson once more.
"Ok, there's, um, there's a big button that says system purge on that panel there. Press it."
She did so. A loud mechanical beep resounded through the room, followed by a series of rotating orange lights. A klaxon went off and the containers began to open, spilling their inhabitants out into the room. Slowly, each began to wake up, just like Seven had. As each one rose to their feet, most looked to her. Doing her best to come off as friendly, she threw on an awkward smile.
"Uh, hi there."
Thompson's voice came on the radio once again.
"Ok. Good. I wasn't sure if that would kill everyone or not. Sector Eight's the only mostly intact area right now, so there should be a functioning tram to Sector Seven somewhere nearby. I'll be in touch."
