SECTOR ZERO Σ-87 FILE INITIATION CYCLE #1. VIDEO

 SECTOR ZERO // Σ-87 FILE // INITIATION CYCLE #1. VIDEO

This story is a work of fiction, created for narrative and artistic enjoyment.

(Note: This record contains unquantifiable anomalies. Emotions have been flagged as [INVALID DATA].)

1. OPENING: THE SOUND OF WHAT BROKE

Location: Capsule Σ-87-BETA | Status: UNSTABLE (CORRUPTED MEMORY: 87%)

The air smelled of ozone and sour milk, an impossible mixture of life and decay. Claire awoke with the 87 Hz hum vibrating in her bones, as if her skeleton were a violin string tuned to its breaking point.

She didn’t open her eyes immediately. First, she heard:

The drip of green gel seeping through the ceiling cracks.

The crunch of her own breathing, too slow, too mechanical.

A whisper not her own:

“You are the one who remembers. That makes you dangerous.”

When she finally blinked, the first detail she registered was the error: the screen before her capsule displayed a flickering log.

> STATUS: Σ-87-BETA

> // Main memory: CORRUPTED (ZURICH_2017: 100%)

> // Dominant emotion: [INVALID DATA]

> // Recommended action: IMMEDIATE REBOOT

But the system had not rebooted her. Something had gone wrong.

2. INTRODUCTION: Σ-87 IS NOT A NAME, IT’S A PROTOCOL

Claire pressed her palm against the capsule glass. It wasn’t cold; it was warm, like human skin. Cracks beneath her fingers glowed with a pale blue light — the same color as Ethan’s eyes in her memories.

Outside, the corridor was empty, but not silent. Capsules on either side breathed, expanding and contracting in a rhythm almost like a heartbeat. Some had legible labels: Σ-87-GAMMA, Σ-87-DELTA… but Claire didn’t need to read them. Her body remembered:

The sharp pain in her temples when she tried to access Zurich.

The burning sensation in her throat every time a capsule opened without authorization.

The certainty that Σ-87 was not an experiment, but a punishment.

At the end of the corridor, a massive screen displayed a countdown:

00:36:00 — the same as the envelope in the elevator.

"Always thirty-six damn hours," she thought.

3. ACTION: BREAKING THE FIRST RULE

Claire had no plan.

She did have a broken nail and a silver filament hidden in the hem of her suit, stolen from Claire 16’s capsule in a previous cycle.

With a swift movement, she pressed her nail into the bluish crack of the glass. The material reacted like living flesh: green gel oozed out, and it split with a wet pop, like an eyeball bursting.

Inside Σ-87-GAMMA, her other self curled in a fetal position, whispering:

“It’s not a fire. It’s a purge.”

Claire hesitated, but when she touched it, the memory hit her like a freight train:

Zurich, 2017.

Identical hallways, the smell of burnt flesh.

Little Ethan, hooked to machines, smiling as blood stained the neck of his lab coat.

Bang. The 87 Hz beep. Darkness.

She staggered, the metallic taste of fear on her tongue. When she regained her balance, Σ-87-GAMMA had vanished, leaving a puddle of gel and a message on her capsule screen:

> WARNING: ZURICH_2017 MEMORY SHARED

> // Consequence: Σ-87 PROTOCOL ACTIVATED

> // Time remaining: 00:35:42

"Shit," Claire thought. She had triggered something the system wouldn’t let her escape.

4. REVELATION: Σ-87 IS A BROKEN MIRROR

Lights flickered. Capsules began opening in sequence, like carnivorous flowers awaiting prey.

Claire ran toward the corridor exit, but a wall of pulsating green gel blocked her path. In its center, a face formed: not Ethan, but herself, eyes black, smile too wide.

“Hello, Claire,” said the reflection, a chorus of whispers.

“Do you know why Sterling hates you?”

Claire didn’t respond. But the gel did:

“Because you are the only one who remembers this is a lie.”

The reflection dissolved, leaving a code:

> Σ-87 PROTOCOL: BASIC RULES

> // 1. Each Claire is an echo with a 12% allowed deviation.

> // 2. Memories outside parameters trigger a reset.

> // 3. Ethan is not a person. He is the bridge between the Claires and Sector Zero.

> // 4. 87 Hz synchronizes. 43 Hz breaks.

> // 5. Sterling is not the villain. He is another echo trapped in the loop.

The silver filament in her pocket burned with its own light.

“If Ethan is the bridge,” she murmured,

“then what am I?”

The gel answered with a single word, written in what looked like blood:

THE KEY.

5. CLOSURE: THE CHOICE THE SYSTEM DIDN’T ANTICIPATE

Countdown: 00:00:30.

Claire had two options:

Run for the exit.

Use the filament on the gel wall.

Choosing meant breaking the protocol. The system did not forgive errors.

She remembered Claire 16’s warning:

“Fear is not an emotion here. It’s a protocol. And protocols can be rewritten.”

She took a deep breath and drove the filament into the gel. The wall did not break. It liquefied like mercury, revealing a hidden corridor. At the end, a door with a symbol:

∞ broken

Below, a phrase:

“The exit lies in the echo you choose to remember.”

The countdown hit 00:00:00.

Lights went out.

In the darkness, for the first time outside the system, Claire heard Ethan’s voice:

“Wake up, Claire. This time, choose wisely.”