3372x Direct

Inside, the room was a cathedral of glass and copper wiring. At the center sat the core—a fist-sized hunk of obsidian-like material suspended in a magnetic cradle. It wasn’t supposed to glow, but as Elias approached his terminal, a faint, rhythmic violet pulse emanated from its jagged edges.

The heavy steel door of Sub-Level 4 hummed with a low-frequency vibration that rattled Elias’s teeth. On the frosted glass window, the designation was etched in sharp, utilitarian font: Project 3372x. Inside, the room was a cathedral of glass and copper wiring

It was a mistake, his supervisor had said. A statistical anomaly in the carbon-dating. But Elias knew better. He had spent months watching the sensor feeds. Every time the clock hit 3:37:21 AM, the room temperature would plummet, and the shadows in the corner of the lab would seem to stretch toward the pedestal, hungry and precise. The heavy steel door of Sub-Level 4 hummed