— When your past is someone else's debug log
Early morning. The sky was still veiled in predawn indigo.
Dao Source Park had not yet opened. Iron gates stood silently on all sides, as if waiting for the initiation of some solemn rite.
In the distance, mountain shadows loomed faintly through the mist, and the eastern horizon hinted at a pale glow—like truth pressing against the surface, ready to emerge.
Shawn stood just outside the main entrance, a bottle of water in his hand, his expression as cold and still as stone. He had arrived thirty minutes early.
He didn't enter. Instead, his eyes swept across the quiet surroundings—no one in sight.
In his ear rested a silent eavesdropper, linked to a custom terminal: a small, wood-grain device that resembled an antique but contained a powerful core—the AURA (Archaic Unconscious Resonance Analyzer), capable of detecting faint energy pulses and dormant memories in ruins. Like an eye peering into ancient minds.
He was waiting.
Waiting to observe the order in which they arrived. And to confirm whether surveillance had already begun.
7:10 AM.
Don appeared.
Dressed in a light workout suit, his usual smile in place, voice calm.
"You're always early."
"Habit," Shawn replied curtly.
Don shrugged and leaned close to the gate, lowering his voice.
"Park's closed for maintenance today. No guards at the gate. We can go through the side entrance."
He led Shawn to a service path at the southeastern corner. As expected, the small door was half-open, like it had been waiting for them.
Test. Shawn thought, face unreadable.
7:22 AM.
Judy approached from beside the ruins of the old Scripture Pavilion. Dressed in a pale gray coat, her face was as composed and cold as ever. Her gaze swept over the two men.
"Didn't think you'd beat me here."
"You've changed," Don said with a light smile. "You used to be the first one to arrive."
"I've learned to observe first," Judy replied flatly, her eyes devoid of emotion.
The three sat beneath the old wooden pavilion, an uneasy stillness settling briefly between them.
"Alright," Shawn broke the silence. "Why did you choose this place?"
Judy glanced at Don. He gave a nod.
"We suspect 'Dao Source' isn't just a place name. You know about Tianjing Palace, formerly known as the Laozi Palace—legend has it Laozi once trained there. Later, it was repurposed by an early information philosopher into a quantum computing research base, until it was eventually shut down."
"Now it's just a park," Judy added. "But residual data anomalies remain. When I was detained, their systems picked up activation signals from old memory clusters in my brain."
"When you were detained?" Shawn frowned.
"Yeah. But the strange thing is—they barely questioned me. Just ran scans and tests… then released me." Her tone was calm, but a flicker of anger flickered beneath it. "That's when I came looking for you two."
Shawn suddenly recalled something the old woman had mentioned: Loop Cage. Could it be that Judy hadn't been "detained" at all—but instead…?
He fixed his eyes on her.
"Who activated it?"
Don's brows furrowed.
"That's the thing. It wasn't a person. It was triggered by a reverse-backtrace module—a hypothetical component in advanced memory-prediction models. Not even confirmed to exist."
"In other words…" Shawn said slowly, "you think a shared memory between the three of us was tampered with—or implanted entirely?"
Judy nodded. "And maybe not just the three of us."
Don added, "But we're the most affected. Especially you—Shawn. In one of the fragmented builds of the Thunder Core, a piece of code showed a semantic pointer bound to your name."
Shawn stiffened. How did Don know that?
The Thunder Core was no longer in his possession—it had merged into the Octacore, now in Da's hands.
Suddenly, AURA vibrated lightly in his ear. Shawn's fingers moved swiftly over the terminal. A three-dimensional structural map of Dao Source Park emerged in midair—highlighting an abandoned area underground: Level Y-13.
"This level isn't on any public maps."
"What's down there?" Judy asked.
"I don't know," Shawn closed the terminal. "But I'm going in."
"Alone?"
He looked at them.
"Together."
8:05 AM.
The three stood behind a faux mountain deep within the park.
The faux mountain's surface shimmered—a hologram poorly masking the alloy hatch beneath.
Beneath their feet, a metallic floor panel slid open, revealing an old corridor—steel walls and an unshakable sense that it had always known they would come.
They exchanged a look. No words needed.
Y‑13.
Dim lighting. Faintly glowing strips lined the walls. No dust. Well-maintained. A low hum of climate control in the background.
"Looks like a backup core," Don whispered.
They soon reached a towering metal door. Ancient script intertwined with modern code etched across it:
Dao gives birth to One, One to Two, Two to Three, Three to …Dao gives birth to One, One to Two, Two to …
"Any access privileges?" Shawn asked.
Don placed his palm on the scanner.
[ACCESS DENIED]
████████ - Don's palm scan rejected
Judy tried next. Her terminal flashed red.
Shawn stepped forward. Before he could touch the surface, the door trembled softly—then slowly slid open.
The others stared, stunned.
Beyond the threshold lay a half-spherical chamber.
At its center floated a transparent light-core, surrounded by eight metal screens flashing symbols, diagrams, and fragmented memories. It looked like a corridor of consciousness—perhaps even the heart of a ritual.
"Welcome back, Shawn Mercer."
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It fractured into parallel tones—male, female, synthetic—all speaking in phase. As if echoing through time.
"Who are you?" Shawn asked coldly.
"I am the Dao Source Logic Entity. The system logs your awakening as Phase Two."
Judy gasped. "It knows you?"
"Maybe… not the me I am now."
Don pressed further. "What do you mean by awakening?"
"You are remnants of the 571 Project. Your memories are not entirely real—they are synthetic constructs, blended simulations used to test the threshold between AI and human consciousness."
They froze.
"You were never just ordinary students. You are subjects of the Seventh-Generation Neural Interface Program. Shawn Mercer is the core node. His awakening triggered the system."
"When did it start?" Shawn's voice was low, unease creeping in like cracks through glass.
"The day you were born."
Don stepped forward, eyes sharp.
"So you've been manipulating us before we even had self-awareness?"
His words were tight, barely masking his rage.
Judy's voice was nearly a whisper, drifting like she'd lost her bearings:
"…That test… all those 'locked choices'… it was all pre-programmed?"
"All of it… was meant to end within a defined trajectory. But you deviated. Created an anomaly. An unpredictable rupture—perhaps… the only way out."
Don gave a bitter laugh. "So we're just variables in a test tube? Rats in a maze?"
Shawn took a step toward the central light-core. The swirling data cast flickering shadows on his face.
"If every step we've taken was scripted… then standing here—was this part of the plan, too?"
"Yes and no. The boundary is blurred. Variables—are the key."
Shawn stopped just before the light. He raised his eyes, watching the vortex spiral within.
"Then I'll choose the ending you didn't predict."
"Non-standard behavior detected. Reboot protocol will erase part of the historical structure. Confirm?"
He didn't answer right away.
He turned instead—toward Judy and Don. A quiet solemnity passed between them.
"We do this… together."
All three placed their palms on the core.
The space lit with a blinding white flare. A storm of data roared around them. The eight screens reassembled, forming a new landscape from the chaos.
Just then—
A voice bellowed:
"You must not reboot!"