15 Combined Force (1/2)
A bead of water dripped from Ephraim's spectacles. The distant dripping of water he had heard when he was unconscious was now ringing to his ears as he stared intently towards the glass pane. A red text had appeared with the sound of an error that made him gape as he fixes his eyes to the entirety.
Unauthorized access.
”What the hell . . .” He exclaims and then examines the red text slowly disappearing. Ephraim for a moment, stood motionless. It took him a second or two before he sauntered forward—to touch the glass pane separating the lagoon to the laboratory.
He feels his palms touching the cold glass, familiarizing its texture, and its wintry feel to his skin. Again, the red text appeared. It seemed to be etched within the glass, like a hologram.
”Technology,” Ephraim exclaims, tying the cloth to his head. He proceeded to draw his journal from the belt. The water did not soak it much, fortunately. It seems like the leather protected the journal's contents.
[It seems like this is a laboratory.] He writes. [Perchance it is a guinea-pig lab for a simulation experiment. I must confirm with my team members for more information.]
Ephraim sketches the space.
[. . . unauthorized access . . .] He writes the glass in his drawing. [When I bumped into and touched the glass, a red text appeared; it seemed like the glass itself detects skin; and thus, making fingerprint analysis possible.]
Ephraim tried to touch the glass with a cloth. The red text did not appear.
[Analysis: the glass pane doesn't seem to detect cloth]
Ephraim walked to the other end of the glass, to his right. He then sees more of the place and more of the lab; it appears to him there was only a glass separating the laboratory from the lagoon. Ephraim stared at the ground; it was covered in a mossy cobblestone path, with vines etched with flowers crawling to the ground and to the walls.
The place was obviously for simulation.
He was speculating—yet again. The laboratory had had a wide glass pane made to observe the entirety of the ”jungle”—and this wasn't uncommon in laboratories for research.
For research . . .
Ephraim immediately wrote down his analysis.
That's right—he was searching for research!
ANDROMEDA's research—
His eyes lit up, but they quickly died down—he realized he was being too hasty. It was too early to conclude things. Ephraim walked and scrutinized every detail he could find. It took him a while before he reached something he was familiar with.
CCTV cameras.
”Hello!” He exclaims. ”I—I'm trapped here!”
No answer. The CCTV didn't look like it was operating.
Ephraim sighed. Who was he kidding? ANDROMEDA was long abandoned. It was uninhibited in the late 70s, approaching the 80s until it completely shut down for good. There was no way the CCTVs still functioned—
Blink.
Blink.
The lights in the camera were blinking; its red light was blinking.
”H-hello!” He says, ”I'm trapped here! I need help!”
The camera still blinked for a moment, until small red light focused and remained still.
”H-hello?”
”Hello . . .?” Ephraim scowled in confusion, as he turned sideways, searching for the source of the voice.
”Visited. . . .” Ephraim frowned. ”Who are you? Where are you, rather? I need help, you see I got here and I don't remember anything that happened—I have a task force, and we're searching for something; I'm also injured—”
”Thirty-five . . .” Ephraim shook his head, as he turns around to find the source of the voice. And that's when he realized—
The voice came from everywhere.
The whole place was ringing with that voice.
”2020,” Ephraim answers, and then he held his pen firmly and wrote down.
[Analysis: A childlike, honeyed vocal sound belonging to a female spoken to me, saying she had slept for 35 years; asking what year it i—]
”M31 . . . crew?” Ephraim asks the voice.
”Research M31?” Ephraim frowns. ”. . . you mean . . . Andromeda Galaxy?”
”What . . . in the world . . . can you get me out here?” Ephraim says. ”Show yourself!”
”H-hologram . . .?”
Ephraim, although confused, continued to speak. ”I . . . how can I get out?”
”This is a cell . . .?”
”Where can I get your body?”
”Program . . . you?”
Peculiar as it seems, Ephraim started to understand the talking voice. ”So I have to reprogram your Hologram configuration . . .”
”Tell me what to do,” Ephraim exclaims.
**
”Push more!”
”Aah! Yes! We can do it!”
”More, more!”
”One, two . . . and three!”
Both Esmeralda and Samuel winced and grunted as they exerted a full force to their arms. They screamed and groaned when they noticed the block did not even budge. Esmeralda collapsed to the ground, sitting down with her palms supporting her torso.
”It's not doing anything!” Esmeralda exclaims.
”Damn it,” Samuel says, punching the fallen concrete. ”We're not even leaving a dent.”
”Aah! Why do you have to be so small!” Esmeralda says.
”Coming from you, Hag!” Samuel grunts. ”Damn it! We're not the best combination here!”
Esmeralda and Samuel had been pushing the blocks for a while. They had been pushing with all their might, but it was futile. Both of them had small statures and lean bodies. It was far from possible to move ginormous fallen concretes with their manpower.
It was futile.
Samuel soon sat beside Esmeralda, breathing heavily. His sweat had mixed with dust and concrete powder—the two of them looking worn out, tired, and dirty.