The wind whispered, but Lena couldn't hear it. It was a strange silence, one that pressed against her ears, thick and muffling. Still, there was something unmistakable — an echo.
"Lena…"
Her name was pulled through the air, not a single voice but many, layered and broken, floating on the wind like an orchestra out of tune. She strained to listen, but it was coming from every direction. The sand beneath her feet seemed endless, a vast sea of golden dunes stretching to the horizon. She ran.
The more she moved, the heavier her boots sank into the soft grains, pulling her down, slowing her progress. Her breath became ragged, each step feeling like it was pulling her deeper into something that wasn't quite real. The wind — no, it wasn't wind — was like a presence, bending the sky above her. What had once been a clear blue was now flickering, static, flashing into a harsh, overexposed white. It wasn't just the weather that was changing. Reality itself was slipping, and Lena was caught in the middle of it.
She had to find shelter. A direction. Any hint of where to go. That's when she saw it.
On the horizon, a figure stood. Tall, motionless, against the expanse of endless dunes. For a second, Lena thought it might be another version of herself — another Lena, lost in this place. But as she squinted into the blinding light, her heart stilled.
It wasn't Lena.
It was the bellboy.
The very same man who had greeted her at the Halcyon Hotel, who had given her the key to room 428. Only now, he wasn't in his crisp uniform. He stood barefoot, his skin streaked with sand and blood. A lab coat hung loosely around his frame, and his eyes — those blank, reflective mirrors — stared at her without recognition, as if he weren't seeing her at all.
"You left early," he said, his voice distant, but somehow mechanical. It was as though the words were being pulled from him against his will. "You fractured the simulation."
Lena's heart pounded in her chest, her throat tightening. "Simulation? What do you mean, 'fractured'? What is this place?"
The bellboy didn't answer immediately. He looked over her shoulder, as if checking something she couldn't see, before his eyes locked on her again. "I'm what remains of Protocol Xavier. My purpose was to monitor you — and the other Lenas. Keep you inside the memory, until the convergence."
"Convergence?" Lena whispered, though she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer. This was a nightmare. The bellboy — or whatever he was now — tilted his head, a slow, deliberate movement that made Lena's skin crawl.
"The convergence," he repeated, his voice dragging. "The moment when all versions of you stop resisting. When every Lena accepts the same outcome. Some of you fall in love. Some of you escape. And some… some burn the Facility down."
Lena's breath caught. "Burn it down? What are you talking about?"
He didn't answer. Instead, his gaze drifted toward the horizon, where something else was rising — massive and dark. Lena felt her blood run cold.
A shape emerged from the sand, a vast, glasslike structure, almost like something out of a fever dream. A black cube, hovering mere inches above the ground, its edges glowing faintly with violet light. It was unlike anything she'd seen before, impossibly clean against the harsh desert backdrop. And on its surface — images. Flashes of her face. Different ages. Different clothes. Each one mid-scream. Frozen in time.
Lena instinctively took a step back. "What is that?"
"The Archive," the bellboy said softly. His voice was almost reverent. "It stores every version of you. Every death. Every loop. Every choice."
Lena stared at the cube, a sense of deep unease settling over her. "Every version of me?"
"You're the first," he continued, his voice cracking, "the first to reach it willingly."
The bellboy stepped aside, gesturing toward the cube as if inviting her in. She hesitated for a long moment, the weight of his words sinking in. What was he talking about? What did he mean by "willingly"? She hadn't chosen to be here. Hadn't chosen any of this.
But despite the fear gnawing at her gut, she moved forward, unable to resist the pull of the strange, magnetic energy emanating from the cube. A doorway opened on the side of the massive structure, its edges glowing and pulsating with a violet light. Without another word, she stepped inside.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the atmosphere shifted. The air inside was thick, humming with an unfamiliar energy. And then the walls shifted. Capsules appeared — rows upon rows of them, suspended in midair like liquid-filled glass coffins. Inside each one was a version of her. Some of the capsules contained Lena with eyes shut, her face peaceful as though asleep. Others were banging against the glass, desperate, silent screams pressed against the surface. One capsule contained Lena, her eyes wide open, her mouth silent, but her expression was different.
She was mouthing something, her face contorted in horror.
Lena pressed her hand to the glass of the capsule closest to her, her heart pounding. The words — the face — were all too familiar. She could feel the memory, the ache of it, deep within her chest.
"Don't trust your memories."
She jerked her hand away from the glass, startled. The voice had come from behind her.
The bellboy was gone.
Lena spun around, her heart racing. The cube around her seemed to hum louder now, like it was waking up. The soft blue glow inside the capsules flickered in time with the pulse of the cube. She noticed a console had appeared beside her, its screen blinking to life as a prompt appeared:
REINTEGRATION REQUESTED: MERGE WITH ORIGINAL HOST? [Y/N]
Her fingers hovered over the screen, trembling. Merge? What did that mean? Was she supposed to merge with the "original" version of herself? And if so, which version was that?
A loud, digital siren interrupted her thoughts. The entire cube seemed to shake, its walls rattling. A deep, echoing voice began to chant — overlapping, hundreds of Lenas all speaking at once.
"One of us escaped."
The words were not a warning. They were a declaration.
The lights inside the cube dimmed, plunging Lena into darkness. Her mind raced. The voices of the other Lenas grew louder, more frantic, until it felt like the walls were closing in on her.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped. The cube fell silent.
A door appeared at the far end of the room, a passageway that had not been there before. Lena's pulse quickened. She moved toward it instinctively, not knowing what she would find, but feeling compelled to go forward. The door opened slowly, revealing a room bathed in soft sunlight — a cozy living room, quiet and normal. A couch. A lamp. A television playing nothing but static.
And someone was sitting on the couch.
It was her.
But it wasn't. Not really.
This version of Lena turned toward her, a small, knowing smile curling at the corners of her lips.
"I was waiting for you," she said, her voice calm, almost affectionate. "We don't have much time. They're coming to shut us down."
Lena froze. Her heart slammed against her chest. She couldn't speak.
The other Lena stood, barefoot, wearing a simple yellow sundress. "I'm the original," she said softly. "And I need your help to burn it all down."