Cold.
That was the first thing Mark felt.
Not pain.
Not fire.
Cold.
It wrapped around his body like deep water. Heavy. Still. Endless.
Then came the sound.
A slow, steady beeping.
He forced his eyes open.
White ceiling.
Dim lights.
Concrete walls.
He was not in the factory.
He tried to move.
Restraints tightened around his wrists.
Metal.
Strong.
He exhaled slowly.
The rebirth was quiet.
Too quiet.
A glass wall stood to his right. Beyond it, shadows moved. Machines hummed softly. Screens flickered with data he could not read from this distance.
A controlled space.
Clean.
Hidden.
“The Basement,” he whispered.
The door behind the glass slid open.
The Architect stepped inside.
Still in the dark coat.
Still calm.
“You are conscious earlier than projected,” the Archi
