The alien energy surge dies, leaving Devon's equipment sparking in cascading failures while the automated voice continues its ominous countdown: "Omega Protocol initiated. Enhanced subjects report to designated containment areas."
Kira pulls me to my feet, her medical scanner registering neural patterns that spike beyond measurement. "Your brain activity is off the charts. We need to move—"
Armed personnel in tactical gear flood through the breached sanctuary door with military precision, their weapons humming with frequencies that make my enhanced nervous system recognize alien technology integrated into human engineering.
"Subject Ezren Matthews will accompany us for immediate debriefing," the lead operative announces, his voice carrying electronic undertones that suggest neural enhancement beyond our own.
Devon's hands fly across failing keyboards. "The system's completely locked down. Every access point is monitored by something that adapts faster than I can work around it."
"Because it's not human anymore," I realize, watching data streams flow with organic patterns rather than programmed logic. "The alien technology isn't just integrated—it's becoming the facility."
The tactical team advances with coordinated precision, but Kira positions herself between them and us anyway, scanner clutched like inadequate armor against forces beyond comprehension.
"We're not going anywhere until someone explains what's really happening here."
The operative's helmet retracts, revealing features that appear human but carry enhancements making his eyes reflect light with metallic gleam. "Dr. Elena Adeline will provide full disclosure. The cosmic threat requires complete transparency now."
Devon slouches between the tactical team members as we move through corridors that extend far beyond the academy's supposed boundaries, his expression carrying the hollow look of someone whose entire digital world has been stripped away by forces he cannot comprehend. "They shut down everything. Every access point, every backdoor, every piece of code I've ever written. It's like the system evolved beyond anything I understand."
The architecture shifts around us as we walk deeper into the installation—familiar academy aesthetics giving way to military bunker construction, emergency lighting transforming educational warmth into something that tastes of war preparation. Blast doors seal sections we pass through with finality that speaks of maximum security protocols.
Kira's scanner chirps continuously as we move, registering bio-signatures that make her enhanced pattern recognition struggle with readings beyond human normal. "The facility itself is becoming something else. Neural activity in the walls, organic responses from what should be purely mechanical systems."
The briefing room exists in dimensions that suggest this installation spans continents rather than the modest campus we thought we knew. Dr. Elena Aveline awaits us through final blast doors that hiss shut with the sound of tomb seals, her lab coat carrying stains that speak of long hours in laboratories dealing with substances I don't want to identify.
Her hands shake with exhaustion that goes deeper than physical fatigue as she settles into a chair positioned just beyond striking distance. "The interface with the alien construct triggered failsafes we hoped you'd never reach," she begins, watching Devon slump into his seat with the defeated posture of someone whose technological certainty has been shattered. "But it also confirmed what we've suspected since the enhancement program began."
Holographic displays bloom around us without transition, transforming the sterile briefing room into a war planning center that spans continents. Satellite feeds stream across floating screens while Kira's scanner provides continuous readings that make her medical training recoil from implications too vast for comfort.
"Earth has been preparing for invasion since a damaged alien ship crashed into the Pacific three years ago," Dr. Aveline continues, her voice carrying the weight of humanity's darkest secret. Massive construction projects disguised as infrastructure development flow across the displays—underground bunkers carved into mountainsides, manufacturing facilities producing weapons that don't match any known military specification.
Devon's enhanced pattern recognition processes the global construction scale with growing horror. "The resource allocation for this... it's not just one country. This is worldwide coordination on a level that should be impossible to hide."
"The pilot survived long enough to share recordings of what's coming for us," she replies, and the displays shift to deep space imagery that makes my enhanced nervous system recoil instinctively. Bio-mechanical ships the size of continents drift between stars, their surfaces pulsing with organic rhythms that suggest appetite rather than technology.
Kira's scanner screams warnings as she attempts to analyze the holographic representations. "Those energy signatures... they're not just mechanical. There's biological activity on a scale that shouldn't be possible."
"The Devourers," Dr. Aveline whispers, and the name carries revulsion that transcends simple fear. "They've consumed over four hundred civilizations across this galaxy alone. Every planet stripped of biological matter, converted to fuel for expansion across the cosmos."
Hundreds of ships move with the patience of predators who know their prey cannot escape, coordinated like a single organism across impossible distances. Devon's face drains of color as his analytical capabilities struggle with fleet formations that operate beyond any framework he understands.
"How do you fight something that thinks as one entity across hundreds of vessels?" he asks, his voice carrying the hollow tone of someone confronting technological impossibility.
"You don't fight it with conventional military force," she replies, highlighting tactical analyses that paint pictures of inevitable defeat. "Every civilization they've encountered tried traditional warfare. All of them failed within months of first contact."
My enhanced tactical processing analyzes approach vectors and fleet composition with growing certainty that tastes of funeral preparations. "Eighteen months. That's how long we have before the first wave reaches Earth's outer system."
Dr. Aveline's expression carries confirmation that makes the air itself feel heavier. "Maybe less now that they know about our enhancement program. Your interface with the alien technology may have accelerated their timeline."
She rises without pause, gesturing for us to follow as the briefing room's displays fade into emergency lighting that transforms everything into blood-colored warnings. "The containment lab will show you exactly what we're dealing with."
We descend through sections of the facility that exist in dimensions that hurt to perceive directly, architecture that extends far beyond any educational institution's requirements. Devon walks beside me with his usual confidence shattered by technological systems that respond to his presence with predatory intelligence.
"Every interface I attempt gets countered before I finish the first line of code," he mutters, watching wall displays that flow with organic patterns rather than programmed logic. "It's like the system is learning from my thoughts before I have them."
Kira's medical scanner registers readings that spike beyond safe parameters as we approach the containment lab's core chamber.
The air grew thick, electric, buzzing with an unseen force that prickled my skin.
"The bio-signatures are getting stronger." Kira whispered, her voice tight with dread.
"Whatever's down here, it's affecting the entire installation's neural patterns."
A low, unnatural hum pulsed through the walls, growing louder, more insistent, as the chamber door loomed ahead, sealing the truth of what awaited us inside.