At 8:14 a.m., Halo City’s most famous fountain stopped being a fountain.
Because a giant turtle was sitting in it.
Not a normal turtle.
Not even a large turtle.
A whale-sized sea turtle covered in coral, sea plants, and glowing blue markings.
The city immediately lost its mind.
Tourists took pictures.
Kids climbed barricades.
Street vendors somehow started selling Harbordrift souvenirs before lunch.
Meanwhile, City Aftercare Department had one question:
How do you relocate something that doesn’t want to move?
Across the fountain, Nyla had already decided Harbordrift was her new best friend.
For six straight hours, CAD tried everything.
Tow cables.
Construction equipment.
Carefully planned relocation routes.
Nothing worked.
Every attempt moved Harbordrift exactly six inches.
No more.
No less.
Big Moe was losing patience.
Chef Flo was taking bets.
Glitch was convinced the turtle was messing with them on purpose.
And Rook was beginning to suspect this wasn’t a normal cleanup assignment.
The strange part?
Harbordrift never seemed confused.
He seemed like he was waiting.
Another six inches.
The crowd cheered.
Big Moe did not.
Because something was now visible beneath the fountain.
An ancient metal hatch buried beneath layers of concrete and repairs.
Rook knelt beside it first.
The metal was old.
Far older than the fountain itself.
Stamped into the center was a faded symbol.
A symbol nobody recognized.
At least…
nobody admitted recognizing it.
For the first time all day, Harbordrift stopped watching the crowd.
Instead, he stared directly at the hatch.
The more dirt they cleared away, the stranger it became.
This wasn’t city infrastructure.
This wasn’t part of the fountain.
This had been hidden intentionally.
Signal traced the symbol with her flashlight.
Glitch compared it to every department logo she could find.
Nothing matched.
Meanwhile, Harbordrift sat quietly beside the fountain.
Watching.
Waiting.
As if this was exactly what he had come here to reveal.
The hatch hadn’t been opened in decades.
Maybe longer.
With a groan of rusted hinges, it finally lifted.
Warm light drifted upward from below.
Not electricity.
Not sunlight.
Something older.
A stairway disappeared into the darkness beneath Halo City.
Dust floated through the air.
Nyla immediately tried to go first.
Big Moe immediately stopped her.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then Rook asked the question everyone was thinking:
“What exactly is down there?”
The answer wasn’t waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
It was waiting on the wall.
Half-hidden beneath dust and age sat an old framed photograph.
The first CAD crew.
The original station.
The founders.
Everyone gathered around to look.
Then the room went silent.
Because standing beside the founders was Harbordrift.
Not younger.
Not smaller.
Not different.
Exactly the same.
The same shell.
The same markings.
The same face.
Big Moe stared at the photograph.
Then at Harbordrift.
Then back at the photograph.
“That’s impossible.”
Following clues hidden throughout the station, the crew eventually found a door.
Heavy steel.
Massive locks.
No labels.
No records.
No mention in the journal.
Only one symbol marked its surface.
The same symbol found on the hatch.
The same symbol found throughout Station 0.
Whatever had been hidden behind that door was important.
Important enough to lock away.
Important enough to remove from history.
Nyla growled softly.
Even Harbordrift seemed unusually interested.
For the first time, Ms. Reed looked genuinely worried.
Back at the journal, Signal discovered something hidden inside the binding.
A final page.
A page nobody had removed.
A page somebody wanted found.
Written across the paper in large red letters were the words:
IF HARBORDRIFT RETURNS…
OPEN THE STATION.
The room fell silent.
Nobody knew who wrote it.
Nobody knew why.
But one thing was suddenly clear.
Harbordrift hadn’t come to the fountain by accident.
He had come with a purpose.
And whatever Station 0 was built to protect…
it was waking up again.
