Chapter 13: Fragments and Foundlings
The ruin wasn't marked on any map.
Daojin had sensed it first — a ripple beneath the surface of the terrain, as if something had been edited out of history, but the ground still remembered. Bai had sniffed once and gone quiet, which was how Yan knew it was serious.
The trio stood before a shallow hill nestled in a cradle of vines and half-buried stone. But when Yan placed his hand on the mossy wall, it melted like smoke — revealing a staircase spiraling downward.
"No door," Bai muttered. "Just forgotten."
They descended.
The air changed immediately — cooler, denser, thrumming with residual code. Carvings lined the walls, not with language but with glitch-patterns: half-symbols, corrupted runes, flashes of blue and gold flickering like corrupted holograms.
"This is a System vault," Daojin said quietly. "Older than any mission you've been given."
Yan nodded. He could feel it. The same sense from when the Divine Protagonist System had first awakened inside him — that distant hum of rules being written and rewritten.
Then, they saw her.
---
At the base of the ruin, in a cradle of fractured quartz and humming glass, lay a girl — no older than sixteen. Pale skin. Hair like starlight dipped in static. Floating above her chest: a broken System core, cracked in the middle, pulsing faintly.
Her eyes were closed. Her breathing shallow. But alive.
"She's synced," Bai said. "System-born… but damaged."
Daojin crouched beside her, brow furrowed. "That core's not a questgiver. It's… a living fragment. Something went wrong during initialization. She never became a player. Or a character."
Yan stepped forward. As he did, a line of golden text flickered in the air:
> [Optional Mission: Reinitialize Fragmented User]
Warning: Outcome Unstable. Identity: Undefined.
Reward: ???
"I don't like question marks," Bai said immediately.
But Yan was already kneeling.
"Do you remember who you are?" he asked gently.
The girl stirred.
And then, she opened her eyes.
For a moment, Yan saw every star that had ever existed behind those irises. The void of system memory, unfiled and raw. Then they narrowed to focus — on him.
"I… heard your name," she whispered. "Yan… Long. You're the constant echo."
Yan blinked. "I said no to that title."
"I know," she said, a trace of a smile forming. "That's why you're still here."
And she fainted again.
---
They camped by the edge of the ruin that night.
The girl — whom Bai dubbed Fragmenta, over Yan's protests — remained asleep, but stable. Her System core continued to flicker, running quiet background processes. Occasionally, it chimed softly in broken language.
Daojin stood guard. Bai curled up near the fire. Yan sat beside her, unsure if she was a child, a remnant, a threat — or all three.
Then her core flickered again:
> [Warning: Missing Narrative Anchor]
Searching for Protagonist-Grade Bond… Match Found.
Subject: Yan Long.
Yan frowned. "What does that mean?"
Bai groaned from under his tail. "Means you adopted a half-person with a broken destiny and now she thinks you're her gravity."
Daojin added, "She may become a character, or a quest, or something else entirely — depending on how you treat her."
Yan looked back at the sleeping girl.
He didn't ask for this. Didn't want a sidekick. But the System hadn't made this choice — he had. And for once, that mattered.
He reached over and gently adjusted her blanket.
"Sleep easy, Fragmenta," he whispered. "We'll figure out who you are. Together."
---
Above them, the stars rearranged slightly.
And far off, unseen, the remnants of a forgotten script flickered to life.
Somewhere, something noticed:
A new story had begun.