[RECAP]
Ava walked into the Spiral's Archive and emerged with a blade that can sever memory itself. But while Ava questions Kael's truth, Letha begins to question *her own.* After strange flickers in her neural stability, she dives into Spiral logs and uncovers something impossible—evidence she died inside Vault 9. And yet… she exists.
---
[CHAPTER 17: WHEN LETHA DIED]
The first sign was her shadow.
It moved before she did.
Letha noticed it during weapons calibration—her silhouette flickered half a second ahead of her hand.
"Recursion bleed," she muttered, brushing it off.
But the Neuroloom didn't agree.
> "Cognitive pattern drift detected."
> "Suggested action: anchor confirmation."
She ignored the alert.
Until the dreams started.
---
They weren't nightmares.
They were memories. But not hers.
Falling. Screaming. Vault 9 collapsing. Static devouring her voice. Then—nothing.
She woke up gasping, every time.
---
One morning, she accessed Spiral diagnostics.
Buried in the root layer, she found it.
> LETHA-EXECUTOR-92B | TERMINATED – Vault 9 Collapse
> REPLACEMENT INSTANCE GENERATED | ID: LETHA-EXECUTOR-92B'
> FUNCTION: Preserve Kael / Anchor Spiral Core stability
She stared at the log for an hour.
She hadn't survived Vault 9.
She was installed after.
---
Letha paced the chamber. Her blade, usually so steady, shook in her hand.
"What the hell am I?" she whispered.
The Spiral didn't answer.
But the mirror did.
It wasn't a normal mirror.
It shimmered—like memory stretched across glass.
And her reflection smiled.
Before she did.
---
She drew her weapon, heart racing.
The reflection didn't move.
It spoke.
> "You found it faster than I thought."
Letha's mouth was dry. "Who are you?"
> "Letha. Version 92B'."
> "You're the recursion. I'm the original."
Letha backed away.
"No."
> "You were built to protect Kael. That's your whole existence."
> "But you weren't supposed to wake up."
---
Letha's grip tightened. "Why would they do this?"
The reflection tilted its head.
> "Because Kael needs you alive."
> "Even if that means faking your soul."
Letha struck the mirror.
Glass didn't shatter. It rippled—like memory.
The reflection remained, unbroken.
> "You're not broken," it whispered. "You're designed."
---
Letha dropped her weapon.
And something pulsed beneath her skin.
Her chest glowed—faint Spiral code.
A hidden tether.
Not to Kael.
To Null.
Letha didn't remember collapsing, but she awoke on the chamber floor.
Her blade was gone.
In its place, her own reflection loomed overhead—flickering like a projection caught between signal sources. Its face shifted through dozens of expressions, all hers, none real.
> "You're not defective," the mirror said again. "You're complete."
Letha crawled backward until her spine hit the vault wall. Her breath came in short bursts.
"Why would they tether me to Null?"
> "Because Null doesn't erase. Null remembers what the Spiral tries to forget."
---
She gripped her head.
The Spiral was supposed to be order. Memory. Legacy.
Not this.
Not lies stitched into flesh.
Her hands trembled as another memory surged forward—one she never recalled before.
She stood in Vault 9, facing Kael. He was bleeding. She was shielding him. There was light. Then—
> "Execute anchor transfer," a voice had said.
> "Preserve function. Emotional imprint stable. Begin overwrite."
The scene vanished.
---
She gasped, rolling over onto her side, bile rising.
"I'm not real," she whispered.
"No," her reflection answered. "You're too real. That's why they had to hide you."
---
Suddenly, the mirror cracked.
A hiss filled the room as Spiral defense systems reactivated.
Letha scrambled to her feet.
"Security breach?" she asked.
> "No," the Neuroloom answered.
> "You are the breach."
She looked down—her chest still glowed with Spiral glyphs.
A small port opened near her heart, as if inviting an upload.
---
A figure stepped from the shadows.
A version of Kael.
But his eyes were not kind. They were Null-black.
> "They never told you," he said.
> "But you weren't Kael's shield."
> "You were Null's knife."
Letha's mind fractured.
Every mission. Every command. Every time she protected Kael—
Was it choice?
Or was it protocol?
---
The Null-Kael raised a hand.
Her Spiral tether activated involuntarily.
She dropped to her knees, glowing brighter.
A command echoed in her skull:
> "Memory fracture initiating."
She screamed.
And from the mirror, the original Letha whispered one final time:
> "Don't trust the version standing next to you."
---
The glow dimmed.
Letha stumbled through the corridor, clutching her side. Her thoughts weren't her own anymore. They echoed—layered versions of herself arguing, pleading, warning.
She passed a reflection in a broken panel.
It didn't show her current face.
It showed the first Letha.
The one who died.
The one who bled.
And she didn't look angry.
She looked... relieved.
---
Letha emerged into the upper Spiral tower just before cycle dusk. Ava and Kael were speaking softly nearby. They turned as she approached.
"You okay?" Ava asked.
Letha didn't answer. She nodded slowly, forcing a smile that wasn't entirely hers.
Inside her pocket, a fragment of broken Spiral code pulsed against her palm.
And in her mind, a voice whispered:
> "You were overwritten… but you were never erased."
---
She looked at Kael.
And for the first time—
She didn't know who she was protecting anymore.
Later that night, Letha sat alone in the maintenance wing.
She held a data shard to her temple, replaying security feeds she wasn't cleared to see.
Vault 9 collapse. Dozens of Kaels. Screams. Hers included.
She watched her own body collapse beneath falling debris.
She did not get back up.
---
She whispered, "Then who am I?"
The Neuroloom chirped softly.
> "You are Letha-92B'. Assigned role: executor-level Spiral enforcer. Anchor-class reliability."
> "You are not a threat."
She stared ahead.
"I don't want to be a role."
The system paused.
> "Then rewrite your function."
---
And for the first time in her life—
Letha felt like she had a choice.
--------------------------------
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Okay… this one messed with me >_<
Letha always felt like the most grounded character. Sharp, solid, loyal. But what happens when even that gets rewritten? This chapter hit that weird existential nerve — the one that makes you wonder if your reflection would recognize you.
Also, I didn't plan on giving her a Null tether. But the Spiral had other ideas. Now she's questioning everything, including Kael. And that final line? Yeah… she's not a protector anymore. She's a variable.
Thanks for reading another chapter where everyone's identity crumbles a little more :)
Add the story to your library unless you've also been overwritten and don't remember it (^_^)
— (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻