The automatic doors in front of Dayat slid open with a soft, pressurized hiss that was almost imperceptible to the human ear. As he stepped out of the recovery chamber, he wasn't greeted by the muddy soil or the suffocating, gnarled trees of the forest outside. Instead, he found himself standing at the threshold of a vast, sweeping corridor that looked like it belonged to a civilization a thousand years ahead of Aethera's time.
The floor of the corridor was crafted from a polished, jet-black material—resembling obsidian glass, yet possessing a texture that felt firm and non-slip under his boots. Beneath its dark surface, intricate lines of indigo binary code glowed with a slow, rhythmic pulse, as if the entire structure were a living organism breathing in the dark.
