The Original Ones
2197 Words
The safe house in the Swiss Alps was a ruin.
Michael stood in the snow, staring at the smoldering remains of the command center. The attack had been brutal, swift, and devastating. The Original Ones had found them. They'd breached their defenses. They'd destroyed everything they'd built.
But they'd survived. Barely.
The team gathered around him, their faces pale, their eyes hollow. Freddy was nursing a wound on his arm. Victor was helping Lilian walk. Norman was carrying what was left of their equipment. Regan stood apart, her expression unreadable.
"We need to move," Michael said, his voice cold and hard. "They'll be coming back. We need to find a new safe house. A place they don't know about."
"Where?" Freddy asked. "They seem to know everything. They've been watching us from the beginning."
"Then we find a place they haven't found yet. Somewhere off the grid."
Clarice stepped forward. "I know a place. A cabin in the Canadian Rockies. It belongs to an old contact of mine. No one knows about it. It's completely off the grid."
"Can we get there?"
"We can. But it's going to take time. And we need to be careful. The Original Ones have eyes everywhere."
Michael nodded slowly. "Then we move. Now. Before they come back."
---
The journey to Canada took four days.
Michael sat in the back of the transport plane, his mind focused on the mission ahead. The team was with him—Clarice, Freddy, Victor, Lilian, Norman, and Regan. They were all that was left. Everyone else was gone.
The cabin was located in a remote valley, surrounded by towering peaks. It was small, rustic, invisible from the air. It was the perfect place to hide.
"We're approaching the drop zone," the pilot announced. "Get ready."
Michael stood and checked his gear. "Everyone ready?"
A chorus of affirmatives.
"Then let's move."
---
The drop zone was a clearing in the forest, surrounded by tall pines.
Michael landed softly, his knees absorbing the impact. The others followed, their movements silent and controlled. The cabin was a mile away, hidden by the trees.
They moved through the forest, their footsteps muffled by the fallen needles. The air was cold, the sky overcast. It felt like a scene from a horror movie.
The cabin appeared ahead—a small wooden structure, nestled in a clearing. It looked abandoned, but Michael knew better. There was activity inside. He could feel it.
"Clarice," he said. "Can you get us in?"
She studied the cabin. "There's a key under the mat. It's not secure, but it's secluded."
Michael lifted the mat and found the key. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The cabin was small, cluttered with books and papers. It smelled of dust and wood smoke. It was perfect.
"We'll stay here until we figure out our next move," Michael said. "We need to regroup. We need to plan."
---
The team settled into the cabin.
Michael sat at the table, staring at the map of the world spread out before him. The Original Ones were out there, somewhere. They'd been pulling the strings for millennia. They'd created everything—the Foundation, the Collective, the Circle, the Legacy. And now they were coming for them.
"We need to find them," he said. "We need to take the fight to them."
"How?" Freddy asked. "We don't even know where they are."
"We know they're everywhere. But there has to be a central hub. A place where their leaders gather."
Regan stepped forward. "I might be able to help. Before I left the Foundation, I heard rumors about a place called the Sanctuary. It's supposed to be the Original Ones' headquarters. A hidden city in the mountains of Antarctica."
"The Sanctuary. What is it?"
"It's a city. Hidden in the ice, accessible only by a single route. It's protected by layers of security. It's the seat of the Original Ones' power."
"Then we go to Antarctica. We find the Sanctuary. We destroy it."
---
The journey to Antarctica took six days.
Michael sat in the back of the transport ship, his mind focused on the mission ahead. The team was with him—Clarice, Freddy, Victor, Lilian, Norman, and Regan. They were all there, ready to fight.
The ice stretched endlessly in all directions, white and blinding. The city was hidden beneath the surface, accessible only through a narrow crevasse. It was invisible from the air, impossible to find without a guide.
"We're approaching the drop zone," the pilot announced. "Get ready."
Michael stood and checked his gear. "Everyone ready?"
A chorus of affirmatives.
"Then let's move."
---
The drop zone was a frozen wasteland, the wind howling across the ice.
Michael landed hard, his knees absorbing the impact. The others followed, their movements silent and controlled. The crevasse was a mile away, hidden by the snow.
They moved across the ice, their footsteps muffled by the cold. The wind was brutal, the temperature below freezing. But they pushed forward, driven by determination.
The crevasse appeared ahead—a narrow crack in the ice, leading down into the darkness. Michael peered into it, his heart pounding.
"This is it," Regan said. "The entrance to the Sanctuary."
Michael studied the crevasse. "Can you get us in?"
She studied the entrance. "There's a ladder on the side. It's not secure, but it's our only way in."
"Then we go down the ladder."
---
They descended into the darkness, their footsteps echoing off the ice.
The ladder was old, rusted, barely holding together. Michael climbed down carefully, his heart pounding. The others followed, their movements cautious and controlled.
They reached the bottom. The ice opened into a vast cavern, lit by the glow of bioluminescent crystals. The city was there, sprawling across the cavern floor—a network of ancient buildings, carved from the ice itself.
"This is it," Regan whispered. "The Sanctuary."
Michael studied the city. "Can you get us in?"
She studied the entrance. "There's a gate on the north side. It's not heavily guarded. If we can get past the cameras, we can get inside."
"Then we go through the gate."
---
They approached the gate, moving through the shadows.
The gate was steel, the lock electronic. Regan stepped forward and keyed in a code. The lock clicked open.
"Inside," she whispered. "Quickly."
They slipped through the gate, into the city beyond.
The streets were narrow, the buildings ancient. Michael moved forward, his weapon raised. The city was silent, the only sound the drip of water from the ice above.
They reached a junction. The street split in two directions. Michael paused, listening.
"Left," Regan said. "The main chamber is that way."
They moved left, their footsteps echoing off the ice. The street grew wider, the lights brighter. They were entering the heart of the city.
Michael heard voices ahead. Guards. He signaled for the team to stop.
He crept forward, peering around the corner. Two guards stood in the street, their backs to him. They were talking, their voices low and casual.
Michael moved quickly. He was on them before they could react, his knife finding its mark. The first guard dropped silently. The second followed a moment later.
He dragged the bodies into a side alley, then signaled for the team to continue.
---
The main chamber was vast, carved from the ice itself.
The Original Ones were there, gathered around a central table. There were twelve of them, each representing a different family. They were all ancient, their faces etched with the weight of millennia.
Michael stepped forward, his weapon raised. "This is over. You're all under arrest."
One of the leaders, a man with cold eyes and a cruel smile, laughed. "Arrest? You think you can arrest us? We've been running this world for millennia. You're nothing but a momentary inconvenience."
"Not anymore."
Michael raised his weapon. The guards in the room raised theirs. The standoff was tense, the air thick with anticipation.
"Clarice," Michael said. "Can you access their systems?"
"I can try. But it's going to take time."
"We don't have time."
"I'll do what I can."
---
The fight was brutal.
Michael moved through the chaos, his weapon blazing. The Original Ones' guards were numerous, but they were outmatched. One by one, they fell.
"I've got it!" Clarice shouted. "I'm accessing their systems."
"Can you shut them down?"
"I can. But I need to bypass the security protocols. They're advanced. Very advanced."
"How long?"
"Minutes. Maybe less."
Michael continued to fight, his body pushing through the pain. The guards were relentless, but he was more determined.
"I've got it!" Clarice shouted. "The systems are shutting down!"
The screens flickered, then went dark. The hum of the servers faded, replaced by silence.
Michael let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "It's over."
The Original Ones stared at him, their faces pale. "You've made a mistake," the cold-eyed man said. "You don't know what you've done."
"I know I've stopped you. That's enough."
"You've only delayed the inevitable. The Original Ones will rise again. And when it does, you'll be the first to fall."
Michael turned and walked away. "We'll see about that."
---
The flight back to Canada was silent.
Michael sat in the back of the plane, his mind racing. They'd destroyed the Sanctuary. They'd shut down the Original Ones' systems. But something still didn't feel right.
"We need to be sure," Michael said. "We need to verify that the Original Ones are completely destroyed. No fragments. No backups. Nothing."
"How do we do that?" Clarice asked.
"We find the original Architect. We make him tell us everything."
---
The interrogation room was cold, sterile, and windowless.
The original Architect sat at the table, his hands cuffed, his expression calm. He looked like he was waiting for something.
"You're back," he said. "I was wondering when you'd return."
"We destroyed the Sanctuary," Michael said. "The Original Ones are finished."
"Are they? You destroyed one city. But the Original Ones were designed to survive. They're still out there, adapting, evolving, growing."
Michael felt a chill run down his spine. "Where are they?"
"I don't know. But they'll find you. When the time is right, they'll strike."
"Then I'll be ready."
The Architect smiled. "You're a fool. But you're also a worthy opponent. I look forward to seeing how this ends."
---
Michael turned to leave. But the Architect's voice stopped him.
"There's something I haven't told you," he said. "Something important."
Michael turned back. "What?"
"The Original Ones weren't the end. They were just the beginning. There's something else out there. Something even more dangerous."
"What?"
"The Source. The creators of everything. They're the ones who created the Original Ones. They're the ones who created the Legacy. They're the ones who've been pulling the strings all along."
Michael stared at him. "The Source. Where are they?"
"I don't know. But they'll find you. When the time is right, they'll find you."
---
The cabin was quiet.
Michael stood at the window, staring out at the snow-covered peaks. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of crimson and violet. It was beautiful. Peaceful.
But Michael knew that the peace wouldn't last.
Clarice entered the room, her face pale. "I've found something. A message. From the Source."
Michael turned to her. "What does it say?"
"It says they're coming. They're coming for us."
Michael felt his blood run cold. "When?"
"Now. They're already here."
The lights flickered, then went dark. The screens went black. The hum of the servers faded, replaced by silence.
Michael drew his weapon, his heart pounding. "They're inside. Get ready."
The door burst open. Figures poured into the room, their weapons raised. Michael opened fire, dropping two of them before they could react. Clarice was beside him, her weapon blazing.
The room filled with the roar of gunfire, the smell of cordite. Michael moved through the chaos, taking down one enemy after another. But more were coming. Always more.
"I've got it!" Clarice shouted. "The Source's systems are shutting down!"
"Then let's get out of here!" Michael shouted.
They ran toward the exit, the enemies pursuing them. Michael fired over his shoulder, dropping two more. The team burst into the corridor, running for their lives.
They reached the service entrance just as the alarms started.
Red lights flashed. Sirens blared. The sound of boots echoed from every direction.
"Go!" Michael shouted. "Get to the extraction point!"
They ran through the darkness, the enemies closing in. Michael could hear bullets whizzing past his head, could feel the heat of their passage. He ran faster, pushing his body to its limit.
They burst out of the facility and into the snow. The extraction point was ahead, the transport plane waiting.
"Get in!" Freddy shouted.
Michael jumped into the plane, his heart pounding. Clarice was beside him, her face pale. Regan was in the back, her hands shaking.
"Go! Go! Go!"
The plane rose into the air, the facility disappearing below. Michael looked down, watching it shrink into the distance.
They'd done it. They'd survived.
But the war was far from over.
- Writer
