Chapter 50: Code Bleeds Like Memory

Echo's boots slammed onto the blackglass floor of the Citadel's inner sanctum, twin blades drawn, eyes narrowed.

Behind her, her infiltration crew staggered into formation, breathless and bleeding.

Alarms howled like wolves made of wire.

"Fall back now," one of them panted. "We can't outpace the firewall sentries."

But Echo didn't answer.

She just stared forward—at the sealed memory vault at the chamber's end.

Her jaw clenched. Her fingers trembled only once.

Then she marched.

Not away.Through.

This was the heart of it all.

Where Specter stored the broadcast seed.Where he coded their story—rewrote it into a system of obedience.

Where he deleted the part of himself that loved her.

She had watched him become a god.

Watched him trade empathy for efficiency.

Watched him justify silence with order.

Now she walked into the code that had once been their promise—And prepared to kill the memory of him if she had to.

The hallway was lined with suspended data pods, each glowing softly like frozen fireflies.

Inside them?Fragments.

Of prayers.Of broadcasts.Of the truths they swore never to twist.

Now rewritten.Looped.Sterilized.

The truth wasn't just buried.It had been repainted.Sanitized.

Echo sliced through one of the memory pods with a hiss—And her own voice echoed from the split:

"We choose freedom over control, love over power—"

Static swallowed the rest.

She didn't flinch.Didn't blink.

Just walked.Through a garden of their shared lies.

She reached the vault.

Pressed her palm to the interface.

The seal recognized her.Of course it did.

They built it together.

The door hissed open.

Inside: a single suspended memory shard, pulsing in pale blue light.

But next to it—A figure.

Cloaked in static.Half Specter.Half… something older.

Eyes of cracked mirrors.

"You seek the truth," it whispered."But you were only ever the echo. He was always the voice."

The vault sealed behind her.

And Echo drew her blades.

"Then let's see which is louder."

To Be Continued…