Standing in his office, the man who ran this classified facility, known only as Director Zero, watched the progress of the strange invaders on the security camera feed. He had an entire wall full of various monitors, each of them holding a different feed of the facility.

It was all closed circuit, absolutely no internet access or wayward signals that could be picked up in any way. Even their power came from within the facility, all their water was recycled and food was grown on site.

Their only connection to the outside world was a single telephone line, which was heavily encrypted. That telephone, of course, sat right on top of the directors desk. It was supposed to ring once a month, to give updates and reports from either party. It was also how they got new personnel or dealt with issues, such as food shortages from crop plagues.

However that phone had not rung once in over five months. A fact that was disconcerting on its own, but the oddities were only stacking up. First radio silence, then the subject woke up for the first time in the organisations history and now these... people, if that's what they really are, arrive out of the alien's ship.

Director Zero clenched his fists tight behind his back, gritting his teeth as he watched those strangers saunter through his facility like they owned the place. It was especially embarrassing after they completely humiliated his men.

They were supposed to be some of the best of the best, taken from all around the world. Yet they had been played with and tossed aside like they were rag dolls.

He glanced at another screen, which showed the rest of their guards arming themselves with all manners of weapons, including the experimental ones. They hadn't been down here for over a century doing nothing.

They had studied the subject, and the technology he brought with him. And while most of it didn't make sense, they were able to make a few new developments that put humanities current technology to shame.

"Soul... Weaver..."

A soft whisper caught his attention, and in an instant the blood completely drained from his face. His anger melted away as if it never existed in the first place, as dread crept out from the depths of his heart and spread across his entire body leaving a chill in his bones as it did so.

With trembling eyes, he turned slowly towards the singular display that showed the subject this facility was built for. Subject Firestarter, as he had been officially labelled.

"Soul... Weaver... He is... here..."

The chilling whisper drifted from the subjects lips once more. A subject who had slept for god knows how long, was now speaking. Just what in the hell had he let into his facility?

***

Still reeling from the fact he had seen an actual alien space ship, Seth trudged behind the grey haired scientist and allowed her to lead him through the facility. Of course he wasn't stupid enough to believe that there was no possibility of her leading him into a trap.

It was simply that if what she said is true and that no mystical evolution had occurred here, then he really had little to worry about. He alone could probably take down whatever trap they could be setting for him, never mind what he could do with the rest of his party.

Thankfully communications were still functional. Someone had the bright idea to take the system bestowed gifts from the dead. Knowledge, Transportation and Communication. On their own they were each powerful tools.

Although Seth didn't personally use his Knowledge gift as much, his twin crafters used it more than enough to make it worthwhile and then some. If it wasn't for that gift, he wouldn't have been able to make them.

But it was also the one gift that they had trouble taking off the dead, for the knowledge was always encrypted by the system, most likely for this same reason. That must have been why his Teacher had felt the need to bequeath Seth his journal, while the other devices could be looted or freely used.

However, despite the set-back in the knowledge department, all of their team now had communicators. Transportation gifts were having their contents searched, to find anything useful or even dangerous, before being distributed.

While Astra was in the middle of subtly updating their stranded teammates on the situation at hand, Seth stopped in his tracks with a frown on his face. He tilted his head to the side, turning his ear towards the source of the sound as a gentle whisper brushed against his ear drum.

"Soul... Weaver..."

It was a name he had heard before. The figure of flames had called him that when he had saved Seth from the lingering remnants within the Giant Dwarf's soul, when he was creating Carnifex.

The others took a few seconds to realise he had stopped, especially the scientist who continued walking until she reached the next locked door, before finally glancing over her shoulder.

"I-is something the matter? Our leader is this way. If you would just follow me..."

She waved them over with a nervous smile, occasionally glancing at the security camera that sat above the doorway. She knew that if the director could, he would be screaming in her ear and asking her what was going on. But for some reason the slight zoom of the camera's lens was even more chilling.

"P-please. If you would just follow me we can discuss thi-"

She was cut off by Seth raising a hand, before he closed his eyes and focused on the voice. It was barely a whisper, muttering the same name over and over as if it was beckoning him to approach. With that beckoning, he could feel a tugging sensation in his soul.

It was as if he was a spider, and there was a fly stuck in his web. The slight vibrations nudging at his soul ushered the way for him to go. And like a hungry spider, he followed the vibrations to its source.

The scientist yelled at him to stop as he turned on his heels and charged back the way they came, but her cries fell on deaf ears. His companions were quick to follow, running after him without hesitation or doubt.

The scientist took one last nervous look towards the camera, before running after him. Although she was having an impossible time keeping up as, to her utter surprise, these people's jogging speed was on par with an Olympic sprinter at full speed.

Automatic guns sprung out of the ceiling as Seth ran down the twisting, unmarked corridors of the strange facility. Their barrels whirring to life, only to explode in a fiery mess as a bolt of lighting struck through the air and hit them. Their own ammunition combusting all at once from the bolt of lightning.

They never even got a chance to let loose a shot before they were destroyed.

Bolted shut, metallic doors barred Seth's path as he ran. The type that the scientist had been opening with the scan of her hand each time, but Seth's hand scan was much quicker. He thrust out his hand, slamming his fist into the door and crumpled the metal like tin foil.

The heavy, reinforced doors flew off their hinges, bouncing down the corridor a few times before screeching to a halt.

As he wove through the corridors, guided by the whispers in his mind, every indestructible and secure door that barred his path met the same fate, bursting open at the demand of his fist or the barge of his shoulder. Until he met a door that even his fist could not force to yield.

He slammed against it, as it refused to move, forcing Seth to come to a halt as he gazed over the door marked only with the words 'Subject Firestarter.'

It was truly huge, standing over fifteen feet tall and so thick, based on the sound his fists made when they slammed against it, that even a Bentley driver would be able to park in the space it took up without touching the edges.

He dug his fingers into the seem of the door, the whispers chattering in his mind more and more, urging him and begging him to get through the door. His muscles strained, the door creaking, as he desperately tried to pull it open to no avail.

A metallic hand patted him on the shoulder, gently pulling him away from his herculean task. When he turned, Seth was met with the blank, expressionless helmet of one of his Dead men. But even without switching to his soul sight, he could see the beaming smile of the young girl within that emotionless helmet.

"Let us take care of this mister~"

Her chipper, high pitch voice echoed in the hollow armour, completely ruining the intimidating vibe her presence gave off.

At the girls insistence and instruction, the Dead men that had made it through the portal split themselves in two, standing either side of the seam and started to pull it open. The door creaked and the metal groaned, complaining that they weren't allowed inside as it put up as much resistance as possible.

But the runes painting carved into the Dead Men's arms pulsated as if to demand its submission, as the doors finally began to crack open.

The scientist heaved and gasped as she finally caught up, nearly collapsing from the physical exertion. But when she saw the doors being forced open, a new wave of energy rushed through her.

"Stop! You can't go in the-"

Her protests became muffled as a wave of sand hit her face, gathering around the lower half of her head. The sand gagged her, but kept her able to breathe, as her trembling eyes glanced over to Bob, who simply held a single finger up to his lips.

At the same moment, Light poured through the crack of the door and the whispers cut out completely, as Seth finally got to see what had been beckoning him here.

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