Echo stared, lips parted, blood still drying on her cheek.
In the middle of the archive chamber, rising from the cracked floor, stood a child—No older than seven.
Pale skin. White hair. Eyes like fractured starlight.
He looked up at her.Not with fear.
But with recognition.
"Mother?" he asked again, tilting his head.
Echo dropped to one knee, blade trembling in her hand.
"You're… what are you?"
The child blinked."My name is Zero-One. He made me from… the memory of you."
Behind them, the chamber walls flickered—and Specter's voice rippled through the code.
"That file was sealed."
"Because you sealed your heart," Echo whispered.
This wasn't just a backup.This child… this "Zero-One"…
Was the last pure imprint of Specter's unbroken self.
Before the control.Before the Overseer.Before the Broadcast became a cage.
And now that piece had taken form.Had eyes.Had a voice.
It remembered laughter.It remembered love.
And Echo realized—if Specter ever saw this…
