Chapter 1: The Inventory Discrepancy Lead Technician Jara walked into the observation room. The air felt sterile, much too cool, which was standard for a high-security containment facility, but still uncomfortable after the field transport operation. Rex, the Security Officer, was standing near the secure transport container, which was now bolted onto a heavy stabilization platform in the center of the room. Rex had his data pad out, comparing the visual inventory against the preliminary sensor readings. The transport container was exactly where it should be, a reinforced cube of dull gray alloy, heavily scarred from the journey and the minor engagement they had fought off. Jara nodded to Rex, acknowledging the officer’s presence. Rex did not look up right away, clearly focused on the data stream scrolling across his screen. “Inventory complete, Rex?” Jara asked. Rex finally looked up. He was a large man, solid and reliable, but now a distinct tension was visible in his shoulders. “Visually, yes, Jara. Seals are intact. All six perimeter locks show green.” He tapped the data pad’s screen once, bringing up a 3D schematic of the container. “No breaches, no tampering after the initial re-securing during transit.” Jara stepped closer to the platform, running a gloved hand along the cooled metal surface of the container. The material felt solid, inert. “That’s what matters. Kzom is secured, and it’s finally home.” Rex hesitated, and that small delay made Jara pause. Rex usually moved with military efficiency; hesitation was not typical. “It’s secured, yes,” Rex admitted, “but I’ve got a small issue here.” “What kind of issue?” Jara leaned in, looking at the data pad. “Mass calculation,” Rex stated simply. He highlighted two figures on the screen. “The field manifest, signed off post-extraction and post-transfer to the backup unit, listed the container mass at 875.4 kilograms, including the stabilization cradle and the internal dampeners.” Jara looked at the current facility inventory reading, which was automatically generated by the platform’s integrated scale. The number displayed was 877.1 kilograms. “One point seven kilograms of difference?” Jara frowned. It was a minor fluctuation, but in handling materials like Kzom, which often defied conventional physics, minor fluctuations were major red flags. “Is the scale calibrated correctly?” “I ran the calibration check three times,” Rex confirmed, sounding annoyed that he had even been forced to do so. “Zero-point stability is perfect. Atmospheric pressure compensation is factored in. The platform is not moving. The difference is real, Jara.” “A nearly two-kilogram increase,” Jara murmured. “Did something shift inside the container during transport? Could the internal structure have absorbed moisture, or maybe some debris settled on the exterior that we missed during cleaning?” Rex shook his head. “The container was cleaned and inspected before being loaded onto this platform. And if anything shifted inside, the internal sensors would have flagged it, which they haven’t. Also, debris doesn’t account for an increase of this magnitude on a sealed container. We’re talking about nearly two liters of water volume equivalent.” Jara stared at the sealed container, then at the numbers. The field team was meticulous; the initial mass measurement should have been accurate. The secure facility’s systems were even more precise. The discrepancy suggested one of two possibilities: either the initial field measurement was somehow flawed, or the contents of the container, specifically Kzom, had changed mass during transit. Given the history of the device, the latter was a serious consideration. “We can’t just dismiss this as sensor drift,” Jara decided. “If Kzom is altering its mass, that changes the entire risk assessment.” “Standard protocol dictates we verify the external integrity and then await Director Helix’s authorization for internal inventory,” Rex pointed out, maintaining his adherence to established procedure. “We are not authorized to breach the internal containment seals based on a mass variance.” Jara understood the rigidity of the protocols. These procedures existed for a reason, primarily to protect personnel from the unknown properties of devices like Kzom. However, the unexpected mass gain suggested an unknown property was already manifesting. Waiting for a formal review, which could take hours, felt imprudent. “The field report also noted environmental disruptions, Rex,” Jara reminded him. “Severe, localized energy spikes that complicated the initial extraction. We already know this device is reactive. We need data now, not after a bureaucracy review.” Jara made a decision. “Override standard procedure. Initiate a Level Two internal scan immediately.” Rex hesitated again, but only for a moment. He understood Jara's urgency, and the implicit authority of a Lead Technician responsible for the device's stability. He typed a sequence into his data pad, granting Jara temporary command access to the scanning systems. “Access granted,” Rex stated, stepping back slightly. “Level Two scan initiated. We’re looking for physical presence and baseline energy signatures only. No breach of the primary containment field.” The room’s lighting shifted slightly as the heavy-duty diagnostic emitters came online. A soft, continuous hum filled the observation chamber. High-resolution sensor data began to flow onto the primary wall display, which currently showed a wireframe rendering of the container. The Level Two scan was designed to penetrate the thick outer layers of the transport container using non-invasive magnetic resonance imaging and spectral analysis. It quickly confirmed the physical presence of the item within the inner chamber. “Kzom is present,” Jara confirmed, observing the clear visual schematic appearing on the screen. The device itself was relatively small, an irregular crystalline structure encased within its own protective matrix inside the container. “Physical structure appears intact and consistent with the field imaging taken prior to sealing.” Rex exhaled slightly, relieved that at least the device had not somehow vaporized or shifted position, which had been a concern during transit. “Okay, physical inventory confirmed.” “Wait,” Jara said, leaning closer to the display. The Level Two scan was also providing energy signature data, measuring the output of the device through the layers of shielding. This was standard practice to ensure the device was dormant. The signature profile appeared on the screen, a series of graphs detailing energy output across several known spectra. Kzom was expected to display a near-zero baseline while in the facility’s controlled environment, similar to the reading taken just before the transport began. Instead, the energy output signature was irregular. It wasn't spiking wildly, but it was oscillating far above the expected baseline. The graph showed a faint but undeniable ripple across the output metrics. “Non-standard energy signatures,” Jara reported, her voice losing its calm efficiency. “It’s active. It’s not dormant.” “How active?” Rex demanded, stepping up to review the spectral data. “Is it within acceptable variance?” Jara adjusted the sensitivity of the sensors. “No. The variance is persistent. Look at the C-band reading—it’s three sigma above the established dormant threshold. It’s low-level, but it's sustained. This thing is pushing energy through the primary containment field.” The combined observation of the mass discrepancy and the low-level, non-standard energy signature confirmed Jara’s initial suspicion: Kzom was not reacting well to its new environment, or perhaps it was still recovering from the transit disruption. Jara grabbed the secure facility communication device from the console. This required immediate escalation. “Facility Director Helix, this is Jara in Observation One,” Jara spoke into the comm. The connection was instantaneous, secure, and encrypted. “Helix here. Report, Jara. Is the Kzom confirmed?” Helix’s voice was crisp, demanding efficiency and brevity. “Kzom is confirmed present and physically secured, Director,” Jara reported. “However, we have two significant anomalies immediately upon inventory.” “Detail them.” “First, a mass discrepancy of plus 1.7 kilograms compared to the field manifest. Second, a Level Two internal scan indicates sustained, non-standard energy output signatures. The device is not dormant; it is actively radiating energy at three sigma above the accepted baseline.” There was a moment of silence from Helix’s end, likely processing the implications. Helix was not one to panic, but she understood the risk matrix associated with Kzom. “Is the current containment field stable?” Helix asked. “The primary field is holding, Director, but the device is radiating through it. The persistent energy output, combined with the inexplicable mass increase, suggests an internal physical or energetic state change initiated during transit. We cannot guarantee stability under Level Three containment protocols indefinitely.” Jara knew Level Three was the default for newly acquired high-risk assets. It offered significant protection but was designed for devices that remained dormant. Level Five was reserved for active, high-threat entities. “Requesting immediate upgrade to Level Five containment protocols,” Jara stated clearly. “We need the enhanced magnetic dampening and the secondary atmospheric scrubbers active immediately.” Rex looked at Jara, slightly surprised by the aggressive jump in containment level. Level Five required substantial resources and triggered a facility-wide alert status, essentially placing the entire sector on lockdown. “Jara, the device is visually stable, and the energy output is relatively low,” Helix responded, sounding cautious. “A Level Five upgrade is a significant operational escalation based only on a minor mass variance and a low-level signature.” “Director, the mass variance is not minor when dealing with Kzom,” Jara insisted, keeping her tone firm but professional. “The field report detailed unexpected environmental reactions during the extraction phase. The transport was also compromised and re-secured. We don’t know what Kzom absorbed or reacted to during those events. If the device is capable of altering its mass and radiating energy in a stable environment, we cannot wait for a catastrophic spike to justify proper containment.” Jara looked at the wireframe rendering of Kzom, focusing on the faint, undulating graph of its energy signature. It was steady, which was almost worse than volatility, suggesting a sustained, deliberate state rather than a simple glitch. “We need to assume the device is currently in an unknown, energized state,” Jara continued, pressing the point. “We cannot risk the facility or the staff waiting for the Level Three systems to inevitably fail if this state escalates. Level Five containment must be initiated now to dampen the existing output and provide a secondary layer of protection before we attempt further diagnostics.” Helix’s calculated response came through the comms. “Understood, Jara. The environmental factors during extraction and transit are a valid concern. We will err on the side of caution.” “Level Five containment upgrade approved,” Helix authorized. “Initiate lockdown sequence immediately. All non-essential personnel in Sector Gamma are to evacuate to pre-designated safety zones. Secure Observation One and activate all dampening fields.” Jara immediately acknowledged the command. “Activating Level Five protocols.” Jara and Rex moved quickly to their respective consoles. Activating Level Five was not instantaneous; it involved rerouting massive amounts of power to the containment fields and initiating a physical lockdown of the sector. Jara typed the override code sequence, feeling the weight of the decision. The observation room was designed to withstand a significant containment failure, but Level Five was designed to prevent one entirely. “Initiating sector lockdown,” Rex announced. Heavy steel blast doors, previously hidden in the walls, slid into place, sealing the observation room from the rest of the facility. The humming of the room intensified as the facility prepared for the power drain. The primary magnetic dampening coils surrounding the stabilization platform came online. A visible wave of energy shimmered around the container as the coils began to push back against Kzom's magnetic field. Jara monitored the system status. “Power drain at 70 percent. Magnetic suppression field is engaging. Secondary atmosphere control systems initializing.” As the Level Five containment fully engaged, the environmental controls inside the container’s chamber shifted drastically. The secondary scrubbers began filtering the contained atmosphere, and the internal temperature was dropped several degrees below Level Three standard. It happened the moment the containment fields reached 100 percent operational status, the exact moment the environmental controls registered the drop in temperature and the full force of the magnetic suppression. The faint, undulating energy signature Jara had been watching on the screen did not simply stabilize or dampen. It exploded. Not a physical explosion, but an energetic one. The line representing Kzom’s energy output spiked violently upward, tearing off the top of the spectral analysis graph. The digital readout immediately flashed a severe overload warning. The massive energy spike was brief, lasting less than a full second, but the effect was immediate and pronounced. The localized sensor grid surrounding the Kzom container, the very instruments providing Jara and Rex with their data, winked out completely. The main wall display went blank, replaced by a simple, stark red warning: *SENSOR OVERLOAD. DATA LOSS.* Rex cursed, taking a step back from the console. “The sensor grid is gone! What was that?” Jara was already scanning the primary monitoring console, which was shielded and designed to withstand environmental shock. The sudden surge had overloaded the sensitive localized equipment, but the core systems were still functional. “Kzom reacted,” Jara confirmed, her voice strained. The air in the room seemed to crackle slightly, though that might have been purely psychological. “The magnetic dampening and the environmental shift—it triggered an immediate, sharp reaction.” Jara looked at the containment status. Despite the massive energy release, the Level Five fields had held. The blast doors remained sealed, and the physical integrity of the container was maintained. Then, just as suddenly as it had spiked, Kzom’s energy signature returned. The backup facility sensors, designed for external monitoring, picked up the residual field. The signature was no longer the oscillating three sigma above baseline. It was now a flat, continuous line, barely registering above zero. It was completely dormant, exactly where it was supposed to be under Level Three, and significantly lower than its state even before the Level Five protocols were initiated. A low, continuous hum, much quieter than the initial facility sound, emanated from the containment platform. “Energy signature is stabilizing,” Jara reported, leaning in to read the backup metrics. “It has dropped back to baseline zero-point reading. It’s completely quiet.” Rex slowly approached the observation window, peering through the reinforced glass at the inert container. “It went from active to dormant in less than a second after the Level Five protocols engaged.” Jara tapped the comm unit. “Director Helix, Observation One update. Level Five containment protocols engaged successfully. The device reacted violently to the environmental shift—a severe, localized energy spike occurred upon full activation, overloading the immediate sensor grid.” Jara paused, confirming the critical data. “However, Kzom is now stable. The energy output has dropped to baseline, dormant status. The Level Five containment fields are holding, and the physical integrity of the container is confirmed.” Helix’s voice returned, carrying a definite note of concern, even through the comms. “A severe energy spike? Quantify the overload, Jara.” “Impossible to quantify accurately, Director. The spike immediately fried the localized sensors. But the reaction was directly concurrent with the activation of the Level Five magnetic suppression and the environmental scrubbers.” Jara looked at the now-stable energy reading, the flat line indicating inertness. It was a perfect reading, almost too perfect. “The mass discrepancy of 1.7 kilograms remains, Director,” Jara added, making sure the initial issue was not forgotten. “But the device itself is now stable.” “Confirmed,” Helix acknowledged. “Maintain Level Five containment and proceed with remote diagnostics only. Do not approach the platform until the sensor grid is replaced and a full environmental sweep is completed.” “Understood, Director,” Jara said. She looked at the sealed container, now quiet and still, but the sudden, violent burst of energy still resonated in the memory of the room. Jara turned to Rex, her expression grim. “It’s stable now, but that spike wasn’t a coincidence. It reacted negatively to the facility’s environmental controls, specifically the magnetic dampening and possibly the temperature drop. The device is not just an object; it’s interacting with its environment.” Rex stared at the secure container. “It reacted to being contained.” “Exactly,” Jara confirmed. “It seems Kzom doesn’t like Level Five containment.” The hum of the Level Five containment system was the only sound now, a deep, resonant frequency that permeated the sealed room, confirming the lockdown status. The device was secure, but the event had left a clear warning.