The Echo Instinct
The Girl with the Burned Eyes
She called herself Mira.
At least, that's what the walls whispered to her when she woke up in the old maintenance shaft near Level -7.
No memories.
No ID.
Just… a name and a glowing glyph burned into her palm.
The glyph pulsed with every heartbeat.
And every time she looked into someone's eyes, she heard their thoughts—fragmented, distorted, soaked in fear.
"Is this a curse?" she whispered.
The wall whispered back:
"No.
It's a key."
Recruitment by Instinct
Kesh found Mira by accident while distributing supply caches near the outer transit zone.
But the moment she looked at her, she froze.
Mira spoke first.
"You burned fear… but you didn't remove the ash."
Kesh's heart stopped.
That was a line only Elior had spoken to her—in a dream.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I don't know," Mira said.
"But you need me.
Or this whole thing breaks before it begins."
Elior's Vision Fractures
Back at the Sanctuary, Elior's trance was interrupted by a vision spike—his resonance glyph reacting violently.
He saw a thousand glowing fragments rising like embers.
Voices without mouths.
Truths without sources.
And one phrase repeated by all:
"The prophet is not in control."
He woke gasping.
Kesh and Mira stood before him.
Elior looked at the girl and instantly knew.
She wasn't a follower.
She was a mirror.
Another node in the belief-net.
"You're not here to join," he said.
"You're here to test me."
Mira nodded slowly.
"Faith is an engine.
But engines without brakes… burn the road."
System Reaction
Lysa received a red-mark ping from an unknown source in the Mindscape.
Level -7.
An area she had sealed two years ago.
"Impossible," she said aloud.
"No memory constructs should still be active there."
Then she saw the data echo.
A glyph she didn't recognize.
An original.
"He's not spreading his faith," she said.
"He's awakening something older than the system."
She turned to her team.
"Forget surveillance.
Initiate a ground sweep.
Level -7 is live again."
The Path Ahead
That night, Elior stood atop the broken train bridge overlooking the black zones.
Rell beside him.
Mira at his back.
"This isn't just rebellion anymore," Rell said.
"No," Elior answered.
"It's prophecy… we didn't write."
He closed his eyes and whispered into the glyph-net:
"Let those with fractured minds… find each other."
In the dark city, somewhere far away, three other minds pulsed in response.