The morning after Shadow Class, I couldn't focus. I moved through the Academy halls on autopilot. Classrooms filled with lectures and chatter, but I heard none of it. All I could think about was finding the fourth Anchor.
At lunch, I sat alone again. The plastic tray before me held the same bland food: a sliver of protein, a mound of starch, and a side of processed vegetables. I poked at the dinner roll while my HUD displayed my status:
ANCHOR NODE 3: RECOVERED
NEXT TARGET: ANCHOR 4
PERSONALITY STABILITY: 48%
SYSTEM WARNING: EIDOLON TRACE INITIATED
The last line blinked urgently. I tapped it; nothing happened. The readout froze, then vanished.
Out of nowhere, Kane sat across from me. He didn't ask how I was doing. He didn't offer sympathy. He just placed a folded holo-map on the table.
"You look beat," he said.
"I am," I said.
He leaned forward. "Zone 7 got you close. But the final node isn't there. It's in the old archives under the engineering bay. Test logs, maintenance records—some of the earliest protocols. You'll find your clue there."
"Why tell me?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Solas is asking too many questions. If he catches you in Zone 7 again, whereabouts become 'classified.' You won't get out of that wing."
I nodded, folding the map into my sleeve. "Thanks."
He stood and left without another word.
After drills ended, I slipped into the engineering bay. The corridor was empty. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead.
At the end, a heavy door marked "Archives" blocked my path. The neural lock beside it glowed red.
ANCHOR SIGNATURE REQUIRED
OVERRIDE?
My wristband pulsed. I tapped approve. The lock clicked and the door swung open.
Inside, rows of holo-terminals lined the walls, coated in dust. Wire bundles hung from the ceiling. Scattered sheets of paper littered the floor.
I booted up the nearest terminal. The screen sprang to life, flooding the room with pale blue light.
Logs scrolled rapidly:
Test Experiment: Empty Vessel Trial A1 — Result: Failure — Initiate Reset
Experiment: Echo Containment Protocol — Result: Partial — Memory Bleed Observed
Subject DRAYCE: Version 4.0 — Instability >90% — Directive: Deploy Fracture Protocol
My breath caught at that last line. Version 4.0. The one before me.
I copied the log into my shard and backed away. An alarm sounded.
Red lights flashed. The archive door sealed. I spun around, heart hammering.
SECURITY LOCKDOWN — UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED
My path back was blocked. I darted into the nearest hallway and found a maintenance chute. I forced the hatch open and slid down the metal shaft. The interior was slick with rust. I gripped the sides and let gravity take me until I hit the bottom with a thud.
I stumbled into a narrow passage behind the hydro lab. Steam hissed from pipes. My foot slipped on a wet patch, but I caught myself.
A drone's mechanical whir drew closer. I jumped behind a support column. The drone's searchlight passed overhead.
I waited until its light retreated, then ran for the stairwell. Up three flights, then a door leading back toward the main corridors.
I navigated by memory, heading toward Zone 7's exit. My chest burned, breath coming in ragged gasps. I reached the chamber door and pushed through into the cold.
Icicles hung from cracked vents. Frozen ground crunched under my boots. At the center, the cracked pedestal held the dark orb.
I approached, mind racing. My HUD warned:
STABILITY: 45%
CORRUPTION: HIGH
I braced myself and grasped the orb. Darkness swallowed everything.
I fell through memory.
A battlefield. Orders shouted. A younger Vael, unranked, stumbling. I saw my reflection in a shattered visor.
A lab corridor on fire. Screams. Version 2.3 screaming for help as the ceiling collapsed.
A quiet room with a single bed. Someone singing a lullaby.
Then nothing.
I woke on the chamber floor. Ice crunched under my hands. I was alone.
The orb lay cracked beside me.
My HUD flickered. It showed:
ANCHOR NODE: 3 OF 4
PERSONALITY STABILITY: 32%
EIDOLON TRACE: ACTIVE
My vision blurred. I staggered to my feet. The air tasted like metal.
A voice echoed in my mind: "Close. But never close enough."
I didn't respond.
I climbed out of Zone 7 at dawn. The world was gray, the Academy walls looming silent.
My boots left tracks in frost that glowed faintly under holographic lights.
My HUD displayed a new directive:
NEXT: LOCATE FINAL ANCHOR — ZONE 13
I checked my sleeve. The map Kane gave me was outdated.
Zone 13 was calling.
I didn't go back to my dorm right away. I needed air—or whatever passed for it in the upper halls. I wandered aimlessly through half-lit corridors, past security panels, through the half-abandoned east wing.
When I reached the outer observation deck, I stared at the dome beyond the wall. It flickered faintly with gridlight, the illusion of a sky projected over something that never changed. Beneath it, the training fields looked empty. Controlled. Sterile.
I had memories of being there, sparring. But I didn't know if they were real.
The HUD pinged again, even though I didn't touch it:
TRACE BLEED DETECTED — CONTAINMENT RECOMMENDED
Glint didn't speak. He hadn't since the orb.
I placed my hand against the window. My reflection looked dull. Worn down.
Behind me, I thought I saw movement. I spun, but no one was there.
A whisper lingered. My voice—almost.
"You should've stayed broken."
I gritted my teeth and turned away.
Zone 13 wasn't just another mission. It was the end of something. I knew the system wasn't just observing me now—it was preparing to act. Once I stepped into Zone 13, I wouldn't be a ghost anymore. I'd be a threat.
The HUD pulsed again. Not with an alert. With a question:
DO YOU WANT TO REMEMBER?
It blinked once. Then twice.
My fingers hovered over the confirmation prompt, but I didn't press it. Not yet. If Zone 13 really held the last fragment of who I was, then this wasn't about memory anymore.
It was about choice.
Behind me, something moved again. A flicker—my reflection, frozen in the window, blinked out of sync. This time, it didn't match my movements. It turned away.
I stepped back, breathing slowly.
Then I whispered, more to myself than anyone: "Let's finish this."
Maybe the end of me.