ACCESS SITE B TERMINAL ARCHIVE

█ TIMESTAMP: 12:47 Δ– DAY 2  
█ WEATHER: CLOUDY ‡ LIGHT SNOW ‡ AMBIENT: ELEVATED █
█ RECORDER: S.A.W █

CHAPTER 3: The Bunker

I made the walk to Site B this morning.

The snow was firm but hollow in places. The ground doesn't feel solid here--not like around the main module.
It sounds like there's... space underneath. Like walking over a frozen lung.

The outbuilding is half-buried under the southern drift, but the top ventilation stack is exposed. The access door was supposed to be sealed with a coded lock.
It wasn't.

No visible prints, but the surface around the bunker entrance was disturbed. Not footsteps--more like... drag marks. Uneven. Something heavy but erratic.

I opened the door and immediately smelled salt. Not ocean salt. Not chemical either. Just... salt.

There was a thin line of it scattered along the threshold.
Deliberate. Like someone had poured it in a slow arc and then stepped over it.

On the inside wall, about chest-height, I found three shallow scratches, arranged vertically.
Not deep. Not random. But I couldn't tell if they were made with metal or fingernails.

The air inside is colder than it should be. No power. I turned on my lantern and did a visual sweep.

No footprints. No wildlife.

But the walls were damp. And something had been... dripping. Slow. Recent.

There's a hallway that forks underground. One side leads to storage. The other to what used to be a monitoring room.

I didn't go down either.

Because I heard something.

It sounded like a lullaby. Soft. Familiar. But it wasn't in English.

↳ listen closer

I've been alone here. I know I've been alone.

I backed out. Closed the hatch. Piled snow over the threshold.

I didn't want to step across that salt line again. I don't know why. It just felt... final.

Tomorrow, I'll go back.

With a camera.
With a sensor.
And with a weapon, if I can find one.

↳ IDENTITY DESYNC DETECTED

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