They moved through the skeletal corridors of the Citadel like whispers—Kade, Marei, and the system that never stopped listening. The ancient structure adjusted itself as they passed: stairs realigning, walls folding back, light guiding them deeper like memory tracing old veins.
No one had spoken for minutes. But Marei finally broke the silence.
"You said 'The Architect.' Like it's someone real. Not just legend."
Kade didn't look at her. "She's real. Or was. The system keeps glitching whenever I focus on her."
"Which means she's either erased... or protected."
He stopped. "Or both."
Ahead, a staircase descended into darkness. Faint glyphs glowed along the walls—designs older than any Earth language. This wasn't just Catalyst tech. It was pre-fall.
As they stepped into the dark, the system flickered.
System Prompt:
Accessing Blacklight Channel…
Warning: Data stream corrupted. Enter at risk.
"Do it," Kade said.
The darkness rippled—and became a corridor of memories.
Flashes burst across the walls: children being augmented in labs, soldiers kneeling to invisible kings, fragments of Earth's collapse not caused by war—but by a memory virus.
And always, always, the same hooded figure watching from behind mirrored glass. A woman with silver hair and eyes that glitched when she blinked.
Marei gasped. "That's her."
The Architect.
A voice broke through the air—mechanical, layered, haunting.
"Welcome, Forgotten King. You're early."
Kade tensed. "You know me?"
"I knew every version of you. You've died in fifty-seven timelines. This is the first where you found me."
Marei stepped closer to the hologram. "Are you alive?"
"I left something behind. A failsafe memory. The real me is… gone."
Kade clenched his fists. "Why leave this?"
"Because the Catalyst was never meant to crown anyone. It was built to decide who should never rule."
Marei turned to Kade slowly. "You were never supposed to be king."
"I didn't choose this," he snapped. "The world ended, and I was the only one left who remembered."
The Architect's voice softened.
"That's what makes you dangerous."
The projection shifted. A map appeared—every major Citadel, shard site, encrypted system stronghold—places that hadn't existed yet.
Kade stared. "This is… the future."
"No," the Architect said. "This is what they'll turn it into if you don't act. The Catalyst learns. But it also adapts."
Marei's breath caught. "It's becoming… something else?"
"It already has."
Behind them, the walls groaned—pressure building.
Suddenly, alarms shrieked.
System Alert:
Timeline Contamination Detected
Entity breach in progress
Kade turned, drawing his pulseblade. "We're not alone."
From the stairwell, shadows spilled into the room—not soldiers. Not human. Twisted silhouettes of memory ghosts, corrupted shards given form.
Marei opened fire. "The system's trying to erase us."
"No," Kade growled. "Someone's using the system to do it."
As the creatures advanced, the Architect's voice rang again.
"Kade. One last gift."
A sigil appeared on the floor beneath him. Light burst upward.
System Upgrade:
"Crownbreaker Protocol" – Unlocked.
For a moment, the world slowed.
Kade's eyes gleamed silver.
He moved.
And when he did, he tore through the corrupted phantoms like judgment itself—no longer just a survivor of resets, but a wielder of something beyond time.
When it was over, silence returned.
Marei stood beside him, shaking. "That was… not human."
Kade exhaled. "Neither is the war we're in."
He turned back to the flickering projection.
But the Architect was gone.
Only a final line remained.
"Find the Keyholder. Or all resets collapse."
Kade nodded once, heart steady.
"Then that's where we go next."