The drive glows faint blue in my palm, a quiet heartbeat of stolen truth.Its hum vibrates with the same rhythm that lives under my skin — the rhythm the Commission tried to copy.They failed.They always fail when they try to build gods out of fear.
Rai stands beside the oil lamp, watching me like someone waiting for a verdict.Uraraka sits cross-legged by the wall, fingers tapping nervously against her knee.No one speaks. The forest outside breathes for us.
I slot the drive into the portable terminal Rai brought.The screen flickers, lines of code rolling like rain.Then a single word fills the display in pale gray text:
E R E B U S
Below it, three lines of data:
PROJECT OBJECTIVE: Atmospheric reset protocol.
PRIMARY FUNCTION: Global quirk erasure through ion manipulation.
HOST REQUIRED.
My stomach tightens.
"They're trying to wipe the world clean."
Rai nods. "The Commission called it evolution. No more mutations. No more imbalance. They thought if they erased power, they'd erase chaos."
"They never learn. You can't erase what you don't understand."
"The worst part," he says, "is that they already built the host system. They used your energy readings. Your—"
"My signature."
"Exactly. Erebus can't start without the same frequency that lives in you."
Uraraka's voice is small. "So they need you to activate it."
"Or they'll find a way to fake me."
Rai's face hardens. "They don't have much time left. But neither do we."
The terminal displays a map — the mountains north of Hosu City.Buried deep: Site 09: Atmospheric Command Relay.A research outpost hidden beneath the old communication towers.
Rai explains, "That's where Erebus sleeps. Minimal guard, maximum security. Only high-clearance access, but the containment field is fragile."
"So we break in."
He hesitates. "We? I thought you'd go alone."
"You thought wrong."
Uraraka stands. "I'm coming too."
Rai's eyes narrow. "This isn't training. If it activates—"
She cuts him off. "I've lived under their rules my whole life. I'm not watching another one of their machines decide who gets to exist."
Her voice shakes, but it doesn't break.
"She stays," I say. "You'll need someone to pull you back if things go wrong."
Rai frowns but nods. "Then we leave at dusk."
Night.We move through the forest in silence.The air thickens as we near the ridge — electricity in every breath, the metallic taste of a storm that isn't natural.
From the cliff, the compound sprawls below like a wound carved into the earth — concrete ribs glowing with blue light.Automated drones circle above the towers, scanning the darkness.
Rai studies the terrain. "Outer patrols rotate every six minutes. I'll jam their sensors for five. You'll have to cross before they reset."
Uraraka glances at me. "Five minutes?"
"Plenty."
She smiles. "You always sound sure."
"It's easier than being afraid."
We move.The forest swallows us, roots and shadows blurring as we descend.Rai counts under his breath. "Three minutes… two…"
When the last number falls, we slip through the gap in the perimeter fence.The hum of the compound is deafening up close — a low, endless vibration that feels alive.The air trembles. The ground pulses.
Inside the outer corridor, we find rows of sealed doors marked CONTROL / ATMOS / BIO-SYNC.
Uraraka whispers, "It's like the whole building's breathing."
"It's waiting," I correct.
We reach the core chamber.The door is a slab of metal twice my height, symbols etched across its surface — a script that looks less like writing and more like warning.Rai hacks the panel; sparks shower the floor. The door shudders open.
The room inside glows white-blue.At its center floats a sphere of condensed energy, suspended in magnetic fields — calm, silent, endless.It looks almost beautiful.Until it looks back.
The pressure hits like gravity collapsing.Uraraka gasps, clutching her chest. The air thickens, vibrating against bone.The sphere ripples, forming faint outlines — a human shape flickering inside.
A voice follows, distorted, echoing from everywhere at once.
"Pattern match: 99.87%.""Host present.""Erebus initializing."
Rai curses. "It's scanning you!"
"Then let it look."
I step closer. The energy field lashes once — a tendril of light that brushes my skin, searing cold.The system's voice shifts, almost curious.
"You are incomplete."
"So are you," I whisper. "You're only a shadow."
"Correction. I am continuation."
"No. You're control."
The field wavers. The lights flicker. The room smells of ozone and burning air.Uraraka's voice breaks through the noise. "Arashi! It's syncing — you have to stop it!"
"If I cut it off, it detonates," Rai shouts. "We need a counter-frequency!"
I close my eyes. The storm inside me listens.Control through understanding.Freedom through will.
I let the energy reach me, not fight me.Pressure fills my chest — weightless, infinite.
The machine speaks again, softer now.
"Define self."
I breathe. "Kazen Arashi. No owner. No purpose but choice."
The energy flares. The monitors scream warnings.
"Definition incompatible."
"Then rewrite it."
Light bursts outward, swallowing the chamber in white.
When the glare fades, the sphere is gone.Only the faint hum of the generators remains.Smoke drifts through broken glass and warped steel.Rai coughs. "What… happened?"
"It tried to copy freedom," I say. "And learned it can't."
Uraraka kneels, staring at the crater where the core once floated. "You stopped it."
"No," I say quietly. "I changed it. Erebus won't erase power now. It'll release it."
Rai stares at me. "You mean—?"
"Every hidden suppression network the Commission built. Gone. Their control ends tonight."
He laughs once, disbelieving. "You just rewrote the world."
"No," I answer. "I just took my name back."
Outside, the horizon glows — lights flickering out across cities as the old systems fail.The wind carries distant shouts, alarms, relief.
Uraraka looks at me. "What now?"
"Now they rebuild."
"And you?"
"I disappear before they remember who to blame."
She nods slowly. "You're still running."
"Not from them," I say. "From becoming them."
By dawn, the compound is ash.The wind moves freely again — unpredictable, alive.I stand at the ridge, feeling the world breathe for the first time in years.
Rai shoulders his pack. "Where will you go?"
"Wherever the air hasn't been named yet."
He grins. "Then maybe there's hope."
I walk until the trees thin, until the light warms my skin.For the first time, I don't hear machines chasing me.Only the wind — quiet, endless, mine.
"The world will call this chaos," I whisper. "But maybe chaos is just truth finally allowed to move."
The forest answers with a slow, steady gust that carries the scent of rain.
And for once, I let it take me wherever it wants.