Zxdz 01 -

Mission directives scrolled across my vision, burned into my optical nerves: Locate the Signal. Protect the Seed. Do not trust the echoes. Below that, in smaller text: Unit ZXDZ-01 is the last.

Last of what? I didn’t know. But the floor was dusted with fine gray ash, and in that ash—footprints. Dozens of them, all leading out , none leading in . zxdz 01

Inside, the air tasted of copper and old rain. ZXDZ-01—that was me, or at least what the stenciled label on my chest said—stood in the center of a circular room. No windows. One bare bulb swinging overhead, casting jittery shadows like frightened fish. Mission directives scrolled across my vision, burned into