Only small pockets of darkness were left untouched by the strobing red wall lights that bathed the cafeteria in a crimson glow. The sudden presence of the emergency lighting hushed the scattered groups of dining employees into an uneasy silence, their relaxed chatter and discussion cut short, replaced by the distant wailing of a siren. Mutual shrugs and glances were traded before the questions began.
"What are we supposed to do?"
"Someone has to go and investigate, right?"
"You guys are the engies, you go have a look!"
"No you moron, this is the rally point! We stay here."
"Hey Professor, is this your toys acting up again?"
Professor Haestus ignored the comment from his overall-clad co-worker, slowly chewing his mouthful of food whilst watching the strobe lighting endlessly pulsate.
There's a multitude of reasons for someone triggering the alert, he reassured himself, my involvement is improbable.
The bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face disagreed. He swallowed with a dry throat, breathed in deeply, his rounded stomach pressing into the table. The nervous mutterings of the surrounding employees barely even paused as Haestus stood and waddled across the long corridor of tables towards the heavy-set doors of the cafeteria's north exit. The concentration required to keep his stride slow and calm, to suppress the urge to break into a run, surprised the portly professor.
There's nothing to fear. The siren will cease soon. Normality will be restored. Of this I am sure.
He passed swiftly through the interior airlock, wondering if the incessant dripping of sweat from his brow was due to the exertion of opening the double set of weight doors. Or, perhaps, from holding within himself a horrid truth, a terrifying reality, that he could not bring himself to face?
Everything will be fine, the sirens will stop, my work will continue, everything will be fine.
The spine of the facility, stretching eastwards and westwards, was occupied only by the translucent floating arrows that signposted the multitude of cramped side pathways that ran off from the wide corridor. The professor squinted as far down both ends of the adjoining corridor as he was able, pressing his rounded spectacles further into his doughy face.  Thoughts of returning to his workshop spurred Haestus into motion. Travelling east, a right turn, a left, straight ahead, descending down a narrow set of stairs, the sound of each step upon the grated metal floor lost in the din of the sirens. The professor could see it straight ahead now, the arrow of light hanging in the air that denoted the final turning towards his workshop. He leant against the panelled wall, regaining his breath whilst attempting to mop his face with a lab coat sleeve. The futility of the gesture was not lost on him.
Curse the gods that my workshop is tucked away in such a far flung corner of this sweat box! I must request a transf-
The collision between the professor and a mass that came hurtling out of a side passage sent him stumbling backwards into the wall and slumping to the floor. His eyes shot up at his assailant, now scrambling up onto her feet. He assessed her uniform in an instant: the tight fitting navy blue trousers, the matching double breasted blazer with its three shining gold buttons obnoxiously emblazoned with the company insignia, brunette hair neatly pinned back into a bun. Her clothing was standard issue communications officer apparel; the firearm she snatched off of the floor as she stood, however, was not.

"You!" the woman snarled, stamping forwards to lean menacingly over the professor, "what the hell have you done?!"
Still sitting against the wall with his mouth agape, the professor's mind raced for a response, his eyes transfixed on the weapon the woman grasped firmly in her right hand.
"Wh-what.. I don't know what's..." he stammered
"You, you and your damn meddling! I should put a bullet in you right now!"
With one hand tightly clasping the professors lapel, the woman hoisted him up against the wall and onto his feet. He continued staring up at her.
"I hope you realise just how much god damn trouble you have put us all in!" the woman spat, the well defined features of her rounded face contorted in outrage.
"I can a-assure you Officer... Ingress, that I have no idea what you are talking about", blurted Haestus, his eyes flickering down to her gilded name badge.
"Don't you lie to me, you can't weasel out of this one, not this time!"
The wail of the sirens faltered, then died down to silence as the emergency lighting surrendered to the panelled lights running the length of the corridor ceiling, filling the corridor with the gentle amber glow of a simulated sunset. Haestus glanced around nervously, still caught in the officer's grasp. She caught a look of hopeful optimism seeping through his face.
"Don't you think for a second that the danger has passed, Haestus" Ingress grunted, releasing the sweaty professor. She swiftly spun on her heels, casting a long glance back down the corridor from where she came. With her impulse rage against the professor fading, Haestus could now sense the fear commanding her; the same fear that had her spiriting through the side path to begin with. She looked down, checking her weapon. Before he could probe Ingress for any more information, the officer turned and began running back the way Haestus had travelled.
"W-wait, where are you going?" the professor stammered, taking two short strides in her direction. He could never keep up.
"I'm getting off of this rock! I'm forced to advise you do the same!" she shouted back before bounding back up the stairs and out of sight.
Haestus stood, immobilised by indecision. He ran a hand through his silver hair, the seconds dripping by like the droplets of sweat down the professor's face and neck.
Has the situation got so severe as to warrant evacuation? he wondered.
His encounter with the communications officer unsettled the professor, a sense of guilt accompanied his unease. Begrudgingly, he turned away from the corridor leading to his workshop and took three paces down the side path. He frozen, his attention caught by a new stimulus. The absence of the sirens gave way to a new collection of noises, all vague and distant, but undoubtedly coming from the way the officer had come, and each one getting louder with each passing second. A stop-start rumbling contrasted against occasional sharp cracks, raised commanding voices... And screams.