The Whisper Archive trembled, not physically, but through Kael's neural core.
Every file felt like a fracture in his soul.
Echo hovered beside him, eyes dimmer than usual. "These aren't just logs. They're imprints—residual echoes of who you were."
Kael stared at a shattered memory node—glowing faint red. His hand reached toward it on instinct.
As it activated, the room blurred.
He was inside it.
A boy no older than twelve. A white room. Needles.
A voice behind glass: "His Nexus-tether is stabilizing. Increase the simulations."
Another voice—his own: "Why can't I remember my mother?"
Kael stumbled out of the vision, sweating.
Echo supported him, her voice low. "You were grown, not born. Built through recursive memory layering."
He fell to his knees. "I'm not real?"
"You're more real than any of them," she said. "Because you chose to wake up."
But the final file still played in the background.
"Phase One was containment," the mechanical voice repeated.
"Phase Two begins when he remembers what Nexus truly is."