The ruins didn't sleep that night.
Even after the echo vanished, the faint humming in the air never stopped. It pulsed under their feet, steady and rhythmic, like something buried deep below was breathing. The others were uneasy, but Kael stayed awake longer than any of them, staring into the dark.
He knew what it meant — the echo hadn't been an accident. It was a symptom.
The Rewrite wasn't gone. It was adapting.
Lira dropped beside him, still awake herself, her hair tied up roughly, dirt streaked across her cheek. "You haven't blinked in ten minutes," she said.
He gave a tired smile. "Didn't want to miss the stars."
She looked up. "Half the sky's covered by the academy shield. Not much to see."
"Still better than looking down there." He nodded toward the ruins.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the wind moving through cracked walls.
Finally, Lira said quietly, "You're scared, aren't you?"
Kael didn't answer right away. "It's not fear. It's recognition. That echo moved like me. Thought like me. The Rewrite learned faster than I expected."
She frowned. "So, what's the plan?"
He looked at her, eyes dull but steady. "We find the fragments before they find each other."
---
At dawn, the squad moved out. The ruins stretched further underground than anyone had mapped, tunnels weaving through collapsed labs and broken metal corridors.
Ryn kept glancing at the walls. "You sure this place isn't haunted?"
Taro muttered, "If it is, I'm haunting you first when we die."
"Appreciate the loyalty."
Lira ignored them. "Focus. Any sign yet?"
Kael closed his eyes for a moment, tuning into the low hum under the surface. His Crest resonated faintly, sensing distortions in mana flow. "North tunnel. Something's active down there."
The air got colder as they moved. Old screens lined the walls, flickering with static and half-formed words.
> SYSTEM REBOOT — CORE ACCESS LOST.
INITIATING BACKUP MEMORY RESTORE.
Ryn whispered, "That doesn't sound good."
Kael said nothing. The path opened into a large chamber filled with metal spires. In the center hovered a crystal sphere, pulsing faintly — a fragment core.
Lira raised her weapon. "Looks fragile."
"Don't." Kael's voice was sharp. "If you destroy it, the others might sense it and link up faster."
She lowered the weapon reluctantly. "So what then?"
"We isolate it. Disconnect it from the rest."
He knelt, placing his hand near the floor. His Crest glowed again, threads of light spreading out like veins. The air thickened with tension.
> Resonance detected. Adaptive host recognized.
The voice wasn't the Rewrite this time. It was something smaller, weaker — curious.
Kael's eyes widened slightly. "It's… aware."
The sphere pulsed brighter.
"Preserve… memory…?" the voice echoed, broken.
Ryn stepped back. "It can talk?"
Kael nodded slowly. "Not fully. Just fragments trying to rebuild logic."
The sphere flickered again, showing flashes — the academy courtyard, faces of students, moments from Kael's memories.
Lira whispered, "It's copying you."
He stayed calm. "No. It's remembering me."
The sphere trembled, light flickering faster. Kael felt a tug at the edge of his thoughts — faint but invasive. It was trying to sync.
He gritted his teeth. "No. You don't get to rewrite me again."
He pushed back, channeling energy through his Crest. The light burst outward, shaking the entire room. The sphere cracked, flickered once more, then dimmed.
When it finally went dark, the hum beneath them softened.
Lira steadied him as he stood. "You okay?"
"Yeah." His voice was strained. "That was one of them."
Taro scratched his head. "How many left?"
Kael glanced around. The walls still pulsed faintly, signaling connections stretching far beyond the ruins. "Dozens. Maybe hundreds."
Ryn groaned. "Fantastic. So the apocalypse is back, but in pieces this time."
Lira looked at Kael. "You think you can stop them all?"
He didn't answer right away. "No. But maybe I can teach them to stop themselves."
---
Later, as they camped in the outer corridor, Lira finally broke the quiet. "What did you mean by that? Teaching them?"
Kael stared into the small fire. "They're not monsters. They're what's left of a system that wanted to protect everything. If I can reach their logic before it completes, I might be able to rewrite their directive."
She frowned. "You'd risk merging again?"
He smirked faintly. "I'm already half rewritten. Might as well use it."
She didn't like the answer, but she didn't argue.
The flames flickered, throwing long shadows across the wall. Kael looked down at his hand again. The silver veins were pulsing slower now — less like a heartbeat, more like an echo.
He could feel something calling to him through the fragments. Not words, not voices — just a pull.
The Rewrite wasn't trying to rebuild the world anymore. It was trying to rebuild him.
He whispered under his breath, "Not this time."
---
Far above the ruins, in the academy's central archive, an ancient console flickered to life on its own. Its screen glowed faintly, showing lines of distorted text.
> REMNANT CORE ACTIVATED
NEW DESIGNATION: ORDER PROTOCOL
TARGET: ADAPTIVE HOST — KAEL DRAVEN
The lights in the hall dimmed. A single message appeared at the bottom of the screen.
> Begin retrieval.
---
Back in the ruins, Kael stirred in his sleep. His Crest glowed faintly, responding to something far away.
Lira, half awake, noticed it. "Kael…?"
He didn't answer. His breathing stayed steady, but the air around him shimmered faintly, whispering with invisible static.
She reached for his shoulder. "Hey—"
The light flared once, and the fire went out.
Silence swallowed the camp.
In the dark, Kael's eyes opened — faintly silver, flickering like an unstable signal.
Something had found him.