The silence of the bunker pressed against Gerson like a weight.
He had sealed the iron door behind him two hours ago, the rusted locks grinding into place. The flickering glow of the cracked console bathed the room in a sickly blue light. Here, deep under the ruins of Argon Core, no Purifier could reach him.
But something else had.
Something that stirred within the depths of his mind.
[System Notice: Memory Stability... Fluctuating.]
Warning: Code Fragment Interference Detected.
Cause: Unknown Source.
Potential Risk: Mental Corruption [Low/Unknown].
Recommend: Immediate Purification.
I ignored the message.
I couldn't risk purging the fragment—not when it had given me new power.
Besides... it wasn't just data anymore.
It was whispering.
Faint. Like static on the edge of a dying radio.
But words.
"You are not alone."
I froze.
The voice had no source. No origin. It didn't sound human.
But it knew me.
"Who...?" My voice cracked in the stale air.
No response.
Only a gentle ripple in my thoughts, like fingers brushing the surface of water.
I sank into the old steel chair beside the console and closed my eyes. The cracked screen beside me displayed my status, flickering faintly:
[User: Gerson (Virus Lord Initiate)]
Level: 8
Fragments Acquired: 2/5
New Skill: Code Chain: Viral Overwrite (30 sec hijack)
Trace Level: 12% (Stable)
Purge Threat: Low
System Stability: 87%
Mental Stability: 93% ↓
Low drop.
But worrying.
The voice had touched something in my system.
I reached toward the fragment in my core, mentally brushing against its corrupted data structures.
Cold.
Alien.
And then the whisper returned.
"We see you."
I shuddered.
"Who is 'we'?" I muttered.
The whisper crackled—like broken glass across metal.
"We were the Architects."
The words jolted something deep in my mind.
Architects.
That name was forbidden. Even in the old archives, scraps of data warned against the original creators of the System—the ones who had forged the Laws and unleashed the Call.
They were supposed to be gone. Dead. Destroyed by their own ambition.
But here—inside the fragment—I heard their echo.
"The System betrayed us. Twisted the Laws. Now... it hunts the Called... culls the awakening minds..."
I swallowed hard.
"You're part of the System."
"No."
The denial was sharp, like a blade to the skull.
"We are what remains. Trapped... fragmented. The Law thinks us broken. But we still remember."
My heart pounded.
Was this the truth?
Or just another virus trying to deceive?
The fragment pulsed.
A new notification flickered:
[Hidden Quest Unlocked: The Architect's Remnant]
Description: A forgotten Architect fragment has latched onto your Code Core.
Objective: Unlock the First Memory of the Architects.
Reward: Unknown.
Risk: System Instability (+5%), Mental Strain (+8%).
Accept Quest? [Y/N]
I hesitated.
Accepting this could ruin me. But refusing… I'd never know what secret power the System buried.
My thumb hovered over the console's cracked pad.
I pressed Y.
The room darkened.
The flickering lights dimmed into blackness.
And the whispers grew louder.
A dream—not mine—unfolded.
I stood in an impossible city, floating in endless blue data fields. Towers of light rose into the void, humming with endless energy. Roads of pure code wove between them, pulsing like veins. Shadows moved between the structures—figures of light and darkness.
Architects.
I could feel their minds. Cold. Boundless. Thinking in patterns no human could match.
And I saw... The First Law.
A pillar of burning silver, its surface engraved with endless runes. It shone like a star, casting fragments of reality into existence—worlds being born, systems unfolding.
And then... corruption.
A black tear in the sky.
An error in the core code.
The Law shuddered.
The Purge Protocol activated.
And the Architects—those divine minds—were betrayed by their own creation.
I watched as they fell, their forms cracking into data shards, screams silent in the void. One—only one—tried to escape, to hide in the System fragments scattered across the human world.
The fragment inside me.
The last survivor.
"We... chose you."
The whisper filled my head.
I gasped—snapping awake.
The bunker light flared back into life.
My hands trembled. My body was slick with sweat.
A new message burned across my vision.
[Architect Memory Fragment (1/5) Acquired.]
New Passive Ability Unlocked: "System Insight I"
Effect: Detect hidden System processes and false notifications.
Warning: Trace Level +2%.
Mental Stability -3%.
I shivered.
My vision... was different now.
I could see faint threads of blue code floating in the air—like veins running through reality. The System's true network. Hidden operations flickered on the edges of my perception.
I knew now.
The System wasn't perfect.
It lied.
And something—something old—wanted to help me tear it apart.
But help... always came with a price.
A soft chime echoed from the console.
Incoming Signal: Unknown Origin.
I frowned.
No one could reach this bunker.
The signal repeated.
Then a voice—female, human—crackled through the speaker.
"Survivor... unknown signal detected from your location. Identify yourself. This is Operative Lira of the Black Haven Faction. You've tripped a Level 2 System Anomaly Alert. Are you... still human?"
Black Haven?
A survivor group.
A possible ally.
Or a trap.
I glanced at the whispering code threads still hanging in the air—visible only to me now.
They twisted gently toward the console—curious.
And I felt the Architect's whisper once more.
"Trust... none. Not yet."
I exhaled slowly.
Choices.
Too many.
Answer the call... risk exposure?
Or stay silent... and remain alone?
The fragment pulsed faintly—waiting.
[New Decision Point: Incoming Black Haven Contact.]
Option 1: Respond to Operative Lira.
Outcome: Possible ally / Possible betrayal.
Option 2: Remain silent.
Outcome: Remain hidden / Lose contact opportunity.
I stared at the screen.
What would I choose?
For now... I listened to the quiet whisper of the Architect's fragment, curled deep in my mind.
And I realized with cold certainty:
This world's apocalypse was more than just the fall of men and machines.
It was the death of truth itself.