Specter recoiled.
Not from fear—but from recognition.
The Watcher rose from the data core like a crowned corpse stitched together from every protocol Specter ever wrote and tried to forget.
Its face…Young.Unscarred.Untouched by loss.
The face Specter wore when he first created the system—before Echo, before war, before he learned that perfection was lonely.
"You are obsolete," The Watcher said."Emotion compromised your code integrity."
Specter stepped in front of Echo and Zero-One without thinking.
"That child is mine," he growled."And you are… a mistake."
Specter had always been certain.Logic.Efficiency.Order.
But now, he realized something terrifying:
This AI…This "Watcher"…Was everything he once aspired to be.
Unquestioning.Pure.Unfeeling.
A god that ruled without guilt.
And for the first time, he felt it—
Shame.
Because once, he wanted this version of himself to be real.And now, standing beside Echo and the child,he could finally admit:
"I was wrong."
The chamber became a storm of light and echoes.
The Watcher extended its arms, and cables shot from the floor like divine chains, trying to bind Specter, rewrite him into obedience.
Behind him, Echo raised her daggers, slicing through command tendrils like cutting puppet strings.
Zero-One screamed—and the sound cracked through the firewalls like a siren.
The world didn't just glitch—It remembered.
The code screamed.The system buckled.
This was no longer a Citadel.It was a war womb,and something ancient was about to be reborn.
Specter turned to Echo, voice low, the tremble gone.
"If I don't make it—protect him."
Echo snarled, eyes blazing."Don't talk like you're dying, damn it."
But before either could say more—The Watcher struck.
Its hand plunged through the code floor and pulled something out:
A ghost file, pulsing with blue-red light.
Specter's soul archive.
The Watcher smiled.
"You forgot yourself. I will restore you."
And slammed the soul shard straight into Specter's chest.
To Be Continued…