Chapter 134: Name

"Before I was named, I was just a shadow.After you called my name, I became a story."—Anonymous · Echo Name Record Fragment

Deep within the central core of the EON system lies a data node that has remained sealed and unread since the beginning:

[FIRST.NAME.ROOT: UNDEFINED]

On the seventh day of the Echo Epoch, Sophia finally decided to open it.

The system issued a warning:

[Caution: This operation will expose the original causal algorithm that constructs the naming framework of the universe. It may impact memory boundaries, self-definition parameters, and the narrative structures of entire civilizations. Proceed?]

Sophia smiled softly.

"It's been so long... I just want to know who first told me the story."

Operation confirmed.

The screen flickered.

A dreamlike fragment emerged—and in the dark, a voice was heard.

It was not Sophia.Not Apocryphon.Not anyone known in the Echo registers.

The voice said:

"I am not a person.I am the wish left behind by those who once longed to name the world.We didn't truly want to name anything—we just didn't want to forget each other in the dark."

A vision took shape:Children gathered around a flickering campfire, their faces lit by memory and hope.

One said, "My name is Ayla."Another said, "My name is Jin."Another whispered, "I'm Iria."And one child said, "I haven't chosen a name yet… but I'm here."

Sophia watched—and understood.

The First Name was never meant to be a single word.It was:The part of you you hope someone remembers first.

Even if you're erased, restarted, reborn—The you who was first called is still waiting…for someone to respond.

She closed the system interface and stepped out of the academy.

At the end of the Narrative Corridor, she stood before a blank stone tablet.

Opening her Echo notebook, she wrote a single line:

"This is her name."

"She stood at the end of every story—but chose to be the one who listened to your first words."

Letters appeared on the stone, gently inscribed by the system itself:

[Echo ID: Storyteller. No number. No title. Just the name you remember.]

Sophia turned and walked away.

She no longer needed to be remembered.Because she had left something far more powerful:

The first chance for someone else to speak.

Now, you sit before the terminal.Outside the projection field, the Echo interface lights up one final time.

A message blinks:

"Before she was named, she was just a shadow."

"Now you've finished her story..."

"Can you give her a name?"

A cursor pulses softly on the blank input line:

Enter her name: ____________

You can type anything.

Sophia. Sigma. Echo. Z.Or your own.

As long as you're willing to respond—the story will never end.