I'm A Part of an Expedition Sent to the Ural Mountains

I'm A Part of an Expedition Sent to the Ural Mountains - Chapter One: Part Two

Alpha Team, my assigned squad, followed Captain Helms as we headed toward the armory. We hadn't encountered any miners, researchers, or the previous expedition team—119 people in total. Communication with the main facility had been lost for over a week, and the first expedition, all Russians, was sent down seven days ago but disappeared within hours of reaching the sublevels. Surprisingly, the Russian military reached out to NATO for help, and the U.S. quickly responded, which is how my fellow scientists and I found ourselves in the middle of nowhere.

The entry level of the facility loomed ahead of us, its architecture more like a fortress than a research base. The reinforced concrete walls were thick and cold, their brutalist structure devoid of decoration. The corridors were stark and narrow, stretching endlessly into the darkness. Our footsteps echoed down the corridors, muffled by the oppressive air. The harsh overhead lights flickered occasionally, their dim glow casting long shadows that seemed to stretch forever.

Every surface was covered in a fine layer of black ash. It clung to the walls, floor, and ceiling like a shroud, giving the impression that a fire had swept through the entire level. The ash crunched under our boots, filling the air with a faint burnt odor that seeped through our respirators. It was the only sign that something had gone terribly wrong.

Captain Helms led us forward, his flashlight beam slicing through the dimly lit corridors. His steady, confident footsteps belied the tension rippling through our team. The rest of us kept our weapons at the ready, scanning the seemingly endless halls for any sign of life or movement. Every turn brought us deeper into the labyrinthine maze of corridors, each one blending into the next as the ash continued to coat everything.

Despite the eerie stillness, we all knew something waited for us beyond the next turn.

From there, things moved quickly. The briefing had been brisk, the information sparse. The urgency was palpable, the orders clear: locate the first team and secure whatever they had been investigating. The first two days were spent in a mockup of the upper levels of the administration building, or 'Entry Level." We were given a crash course to refresh our minds on survival tactics, emergency protocols, and basic gear checks. And the next I knew, we were on a chopper slicing through the night sky toward the cold wilderness of the Ural Mountains that awaited us. I knew then we needed every scrap of knowledge we could muster.

I'd heard of this research and mining facility; the Russian name for this place was "Звёздная Скважина" (Zvezdnaya Skvazhina), which translates to "Star Borehole." It had long been the source of whispered rumors and shadowed truths, the kind buried under thick layers of snow and ice, far from the reach of prying eyes. It was said to be the stuff of secrets, none of them good, but for the Russian Federation to enlist aid from the States spoke volumes. Whatever happened here was something beyond their control, something so grim it demanded international cooperation despite the Cold War-style suspicion that still simmered between the nations.

Inside the facility's entry level, the stark, oppressive architecture loomed overhead, its walls rough and jagged. Designed to withstand both the elements and uninvited guests, the structure seemed to wrap itself around us, swallowing our flashlight beams and casting long shadows that crawled along the frozen floor. A layer of blackened ash coated the concrete walls like mold, dark tendrils creeping into every crevice, absorbing any light we threw at it. The silence was overwhelming, amplified by the absence of signs of life. There were no buzzing lights, no chatter of workers, only our breaths echoing through the frigid corridors.

The team grew tense around me, flashlights flickering as they scanned the emptiness ahead. They'd all heard the rumors and could sense the foreboding reality of what lay beyond these doors. Whatever had once filled these halls had long since vanished. Still, the lingering air felt charged with the knowledge that what awaited us deeper within would be nothing short of deadly.