The figure stepped through the broken corridor, light warping behind him like he was dragging a slice of unreality into the Archive.
Silver eyes. Pale skin. A robe stitched with recursive symbols that flickered between languages long erased.
He looked like a prophet—or a ghost of one.
"Zayn," he said. Not Zero. Not a title. A name.
Zayn tensed. Fry moved to stand beside him. Patch, uncharacteristically quiet, stood back with the trauma bear held defensively.
"Do you know him?" Fry asked.
Zayn shook his head. "I remember pieces. Emotions. Guilt. But no name."
The figure smiled sadly. "Then let me remind you. I'm Riven. I was Host Two. Karnyx Series: Omega Gate."
Patch leaned in. "Okay, that sounds like a video game boss."
Riven's gaze didn't break. "I died in the convergence trial. Or so they thought. The Karnyx doesn't end us. It rearranges us."
Zayn stepped forward. "Why show yourself now?"
Riven's voice grew heavier. "Because you've awakened the core. Which means the final sequence has begun. We're all waking up. One by one."
He turned and raised his hand.
Behind him, six shadowy figures flickered in and out of focus. Some tall. One child-sized. All glowing with fragmented glyphs.
Fry stiffened. "That's not five hosts. That's more."
"Correct," Riven said. "There were backups. Spares. Failures. And at least one traitor."
Patch whispered, "Is it the little one? It's always the little ones."
Riven stepped forward. "Zayn, you were the key. Not because you were stronger. But because she loved you. That was the variable they never predicted."
Zayn's eyes narrowed. "You mean my mother."
"I mean Althea."
Silence.
Fry's breath hitched.
Zayn shook his head. "She wasn't—she was someone else. She warned me about you."
Riven sighed. "She warned you because she knew you'd believe her. That's what she does. She doesn't just hide. She rewrites."
He flicked his fingers.
The Archive around them twisted.
Suddenly, they were back at the memory table—the five children.
Only now, one chair was empty.
"Guess who sat there?" Riven asked.
Zayn whispered, "Althea."
"She broke away before the rest of us even fractured. She's been shaping this from the start. We're not the only ones with plans."
The prism pulsed violently.
Zayn clenched his fists. "Why tell me this? What do you want?"
Riven didn't smile. "I want you to join me. Not as a pawn. As a sovereign. The Karnyx is reforming. You don't have to fight it. You can lead it."
Patch opened his mouth, then wisely closed it.
Fry grabbed Zayn's arm. "You don't trust him. Not yet."
"I don't," Zayn said. "But I need answers."
He looked at Riven.
"I'll come with you. One memory. One glimpse. You give me that—and then we talk."
Riven tilted his head. "Fair."
He reached out.
And placed a single glowing shard into Zayn's palm.
Zayn gasped.
A ruined tower. Althea, bleeding. Whispering a name—his name—into a broken shard of recursion.
Then darkness.
Zayn staggered. "She... she was protecting something."
Riven nodded. "She's not your enemy. But she's not your ally either."
Patch finally spoke. "So basically, everyone's a liar, the Karnyx is a cult, and recursion is just trauma with better graphics."
Zayn stood tall. "We'll find her. We'll find them all. And I'll decide who I want to be."
Riven's shadow flickered. "Good. Because soon... you won't have a choice."
He vanished.
The prism dimmed.
And Fry said what they were all thinking:
"We're in way over our heads."
Zayn looked toward the next corridor.
"Let's drown deeper, then."