VARYAG Facility, Kyshtym, Russia.
January 20th, 2037.
The corridors were dead silent, save for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling and the rhythmic churn of the ventilation system. The white paint on the walls had long since started peeling, exposing the cracked concrete beneath, bearing the weight of time and neglect. A typical winter day at the facility, for sure.
Except for four teenagers, none older than seventeen, huddled in front of one of the three steel doors on the right-hand wall.
Hyorin, the sole girl of the four, knelt by the door, a flashlight clamped between her teeth as she worked tirelessly to pick the lock. Beads of sweat shimmered on the forehead, and her glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose for the hundredth time. And behind her, the three boys hovered with a mix of barely-contained anxiety and anticipation.
Danila, the shortest and slimmer of the three, let out an exaggerated groan. “Hyorin, how much longer? I can’t feel my legs… and this freaking foil is cutting my ankle.” He hunched down, tugging at the wrinkled aluminum foil covering their ankle tags—likely their best shot at blocking the signal.
“Danya, stop whining.” Hyorin muttered, her words muffled by the flashlight. “I’m going as fast as I can. Or you wanna take over?”
“Maybe just go faster?” the auburn boy whined, his eyes darting between her and the corridor. “Y’know, before someone finds us and kicks our asses.”
Temüjin, standing beside him, exhaled. “For once, and I hate to say this, Danila’s right. If the guards catch us—”
“We’re dead. Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Hyorin shot back, pulling the flashlight from her mouth momentarily. “Ever tried to pick a lock with your glasses fogging up every five seconds? No? Didn’t think so.”
“This is taking forever…” Danila grumbled under his breath, tapping his feet as if expecting something to magically happen.
Kuyra, the taller and heftier of the bunch, nudged his friend’s shoulder. “Dude, you said the same thing about breakfast this morning. And lunch. And—”
“Ow! First of all, shut up!” Danila exclaimed, rubbing the shoulder with an exaggerated pout. “Secondly, fuck you: I’m a growing boy!”
Hyorin groaned dramatically, turning her flashlight, which she placed again in her mouth, directly in Danila’s face. “Then take over, growing boy. I insist.”
Danila stepped back, his hands raised in mock surrender as he shaked his head. “Oh, no, no. See, I would, but then we’d all be stuck there forever.”
Rolling her eyes, Hyorin returned to the task at hand. Her murmurs barely reached the group as she whispered, “Come on, come on…”
The click of the lock, finally unlocked, was music to her ears. “Oh, I am so good,” she said with a smug grin, spitting the flashlight into her hand and pocketing it along with her trusty paperclips. “And that, boys, is how it’s done.”
Kuyra whistled in appreciation. “Damn. Smooth as hell.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Hyorin, still kneeling in front of the door, replied with a theatrical bow. “Natural talent.”
The chatter was cut short as steps came from behind the corner. Hyorin shot to her feet, barely pushing the door open enough to peek inside. The coast was clear. Without another word, she slipped inside, and the others followed, shutting the door behind them as quietly as possible. Hyorin leaned against the steel door, listening. The guards were just patrolling. She exhaled: the hardest part was over.
And now… they were inside one of the three guards’ quarters.
The room had the same white concrete walls that surrounded them in the corridor. It didn’t look that much different from their rooms: eight bunk beds sat on each side of the room, the olive green covers folded with military precision. In front of each bunk bed stood two midnight blue lockers: exactly the place where they would find their new treasures and artifacts. On the far wall, there were six wooden desks, scattered about. Weirdly enough, there were less desks than there were beds.
Kuyra moved to the center of the room, stretching his arms out dramatically. “This place’s huge! Why do these idiots get more space than we do in our dormitories?!”
Danila barely heard him. He''d already bolted past, launching onto one of the bunks like a kid discovering a trampoline for the first time. He flopped onto his back, arms spread. "These beds are soft. This is bullshit! Ours are like concrete slabs. Can we move here? Please? Pretty please?"
Temüjin moved near the bed where Danila was laying, leaning against the bedframe and raising an eyebrow, amused. “Sure. As long as I get the top bunk.”
“Nuh uh!” Danila shot back, sitting up on the bed with an exaggerated indignation. “I called dibs.”
“Sure, shorty.”
Danila opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by Hyorin who clapped her hands softly to grab their attention. “Oi, knock it off you idiots. Time to do what we do best—take all the good stuff these morons are hiding.”
Temüjin deadpanned. "That’s the best we can do? Just… looting? Wow. Big mission, Hyo-hyo."
Hyorin shrugged, adjusting her glasses. "Look, I do not lie. I redirect expectations. There’s a difference."
Kuyra snorted. "That just sounds like emotional terrorism."
“Eh, tomato, tomahto, whatever. Same thing.” She waved him off dismissively. She then straightened, turning toward the locker. “Well, boys… let’s start our mission! We don’t have much time.”
Danila rose from the bed, and the group scattered around.
“I’m calling dibs on the cigarettes” Temüjin said, as if notifying the others.
Kuyra scoffed. “You already finished that pack of smokes? You promised you’d leave some to me.”
“Eh… if we find another pack, I’ll try not to smoke them all.”
The next few minutes played out like some low-budget heist movie.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Hyorin tugged at the locker door, grunting as it resisted, but after a few moments, she yanked it open with exaggerated triumph. The contents spilled out—socks and spare uniforms—landing in a chaotic pile on the floor. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, tossing the clothes aside like they were contaminated with radiation or a virus. Or, well… worse.
Temüjin was near one of the desks, sifted through a drawer. He pulled out a crumpled note, squinting at it for a moment before frowning slightly. What caught his eyes was a crumpled pack of cigarettes. His lips curled into a smirk. Another smoking break was secured.
Danila had dropped to all fours, peering under the beds. His hands brushed through dust bunnies and God-knows-what, but nothing of interest.
And then… we had Kuyra, who was struggling with one of the other lockers, gritting his teeth as he applied far too much force. The door swung open with a sharp squeal and, in the process, slammed right into his face.
He staggered back, holding his nose with a groan. “Ow,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “This stupid piece of–.”
The group froze for a moment. Temüjin and Hyorin turned in unison, their collective "SHHH!" filling the room.
Danila nearly had a heart attack. "Kuyra, what the fuck?! Are you trying to kill me?!"
Kuyra, voice muffled by his own hand, muttered, "Oh shut up, you cockroach! You’ve got a pacemaker keeping your big-ass heart alive.”
Danila groaned dramatically, moving a hand on his face. “For the hundredth time: It’s not a pacemaker. It’s a defibrillator!” he says, spelling the word as if Kuyra was hearing it for the first time ever. “There’s a huge difference! And still, it doesn’t give you permission to scare the living shit out of me!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Also, it’s not my fault these things make that much noise! Ow…” He shot back, still holding his nose.
Hyorin chuckled, and with mock sympathy she asked him. “Oh, poor baby. Need help with the big, scary locker?”
Temüjin snorted, crossing his arms. “Like you’re the one to talk. I saw you struggling with yours earlier.”
Hyorin flushed slightly, shrugging it off. “T-That was different! It was stuck! Or… something like that.”
The chestnut haired boy grinned, leaning against the desk. “Sure, Hyo-hyo. Let me believe you.”
Kuyra, still nursing his nose, glanced back at the locker. "Why the hell are these things so heavy anyway?"
Hyorin raised an eyebrow playfully, humming. “Maybe they’re hiding spooky dead bodies.” The group paused, the idea hanging dramatically in the air for a moment before she added. “Or snacks.”
While the others chatted, Danila had already moved to check out the very same locker Kuyra opened. He rummaged the contents inside: protein bars, an old leather jacket which looked very cool, and then… something else.
His sage green eyes widened, and slowly, his face flushed a shade so vivid it could rival the reddest bell pepper in the world. He just found possibly the weirdest, and most unique, object there.
“Guys? Guys?!” he whispered urgently, his voice a strange mix of alarm and embarrassment. The others glanced up, curiosity instantly piqued.
“What?” Hyorin asked, frowning slightly as she crossed her arms. “Did you find a secret treasure map?”
“I-I… uh… It’s not really a treasure map,” Danila stammered, holding up something in both hands like it was some cursed artifact. “Y-You gotta see this.”
The group exchanged a mix of puzzled and intrigued looks before moving closer. Slowly, almost ceremoniously, Danila revealed his discovery: a worn, slightly tattered magazine. The faded, shocking pink cover displayed a woman in a provocative pose, her bright, sultry smile paired with bold and cheesy Cyrillic text: “TOP MODELS: ISSUE #47.”
Temüjin joined Danila, as his face flushed the same vivid red hue as his friend. “No. Fucking. Way.” he muttered, embarrassed as ever.
Kuyra, meanwhile, grinned like a madman as he snatched the magazine from this hand. “Oh-ho-ho! Wait, wait, was this Seryozha’s locker?! Oh, what a time to be alive…”
Hyorin squeezed between them, in order to see what they were talking about. “Oi, what’s got you two so—” Her words trailed off, and she let out an appreciative whistle. “Oh my. Well, hello there, ladies.”
Danila rose to his feet, slightly pushing away Temüjin and Hyorin as he moved to the back. “Nope. Nuh uh. I ain’t looking at that.”
Temüjin, on the contrary, remained and looked at the pages, face puzzled. “T-The anatomy notes didn’t… have stuff like this.”
Hyorin, grinning ear from ear, looked at both Danila and Temüjin with amusement. “You two look adorable. Seriously, you’ve never seen stuff like this?”
“What the— NO! What are you even thinking?!”
“Dude, you can just ask Alyosha… that guy manages to get all kinds of stuff from one of the guards. He won’t tell me who.” Kuyra adds, eyes glued at the pages.
Hyorin leaned in closer, checking the pages with an appraising eye. “The muscle definition is impressive.” She tilted her head, her grin widening. “Very impressive.”
“That’s… not what I was looking at.” The blonde boy replied.
“No kidding. You’re drooling, dumbass.” Hyorin quipped, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Ow!” Kuyra groaned, wiping his mouth. “That is not true!”
“You look like you’re having an aneurysm, dipshit.” She deadpanned, snatching the magazine from his hands. “If you keep this, you’re gonna set a new record for the longest time spent in the shower."
Kuyra’s expression was beyond disgusted, while Temüjin barely managed to hold a chuckle, cheeks still red from the embarrassment of the topic. Meanwhile, Danila covered his face, groaning.
“H-Hyorin! What the fuck!” The blonde boy muttered, cheeks pink from awkwardness.
Hyorin giggled, amused at the reaction of his friend. “Relax, it’s normal. I may keep this magazine though. For… uh, personal research.”
The chatter was cut short though. A series of voices came from outside the dormitory. The group froze right away. They grew, as they moved closer and closer.
“Quick, hide somewhere!” Hyorin whispered urgently. The group quickly shoved whatever they left on the floor back to the lockers, closing them quickly. Everyone hid under the bunk beds, trying to be as small as possible.
The door opened, as two guards walked in. Clad in their EMR Camouflage uniform, standard issue chest rig and an AK-74 in their hands. One of the two, the taller, took off his balaclava, after hours of keeping it on his face.
The ‘little green men’. That’s the nickname the Chimeras gave to the guards, due to the color of the uniform.
From under the bed, Hyorin could feel her pulse hammering against her ribs. She didn’t breathe. None of them did. Danila, curled up beneath the bed in front of Kuyra, looked like he was about to have a stroke. His hands were clamped over his mouth, as if terrified his own breath would betray them.
“Jesus… why the fuck has the captain given us the labs to patrol tonight? That place scares the shit out of me.” One of the guards muttered, as he moved to the locker and opened it. Luckily enough, it wasn’t one of those opened by the teenagers.
The other guard scoffed, as he unbuckled his helmet and threw it on the bed. “Why are you so scared of that place, dude? You make it sound like it’s ‘Friday the 13th’.”
“Because, unlike you, I was there with Leonid last time. There’s weird noises, man. I dunno what causes them, but I’d rather patrol the corridor near the brat’s dormitories than that place.”
The taller guard scoffed. "This facility is falling apart. Rats, mold, half the shit in the labs doesn’t even work. Maybe those brats will burn it down one day, do us all a favor."
The shorter guard snorted. "Careful. If the higher-ups hear you talking like that, you’ll be the next one getting reassigned to isolation duty."
"Like hell I will," he muttered.
Hyorin, meanwhile, tried to think of a way to sneak out of the room undetected. All they needed, after all, was to reach back to the same vent that they used to reach the level they were in. The same vent that would lead them to the maintenance corridor that is vertically parallel to the whole facility. The same corridor they used to sneak undetected here. Somehow, their perfect plan—which took them more than a week to lay out, and to obtain the aluminum foil from Mikhail—suddenly wasn’t so perfect.
The guards kept chatting. About how the shifts are so badly organized, how the ‘brats’ still do their usual mischief and annoy the rest of the guards, and so on. But then, out of the blue, their talk was interrupted by a screech of one of the beds. The same one in which Kuyra was hiding.
The space, all tight and cramped for someone as hefty and tall as him, wasn’t enough for him. As he moved ever so slightly, the noise of the metal frame of the bunk bed against the cold floor cut like knife through butter, overarching the voices of the guards.
The two soldiers froze as they heard the noise. Meanwhile, the face of the teenagers went pale right away. This was not good. If they were caught there, on Level -1, they’d be in big trouble. Or worse, isolation: the most feared punishment at VARYAG.
And if it wasn’t the guards and isolation that worried them… the doctors did. Maybe they’d be assigned one of the overnight tests.
All they had to do now was to run away. Or at least find a way to get back to the common area safely.