The Root That Remembers

I Accidentally Became a Guild Therapist

Chapter 35: "The Root That Remembers"

The Mainframe Prison was less a structure and more a nightmare made of code. Its very walls seemed to writhe with corrupted data, and the air was thick with the chill of forgotten algorithms and abandoned debuggers. In its deepest, most desolate level, where even the prison's purpose seemed to have been forgotten by the system itself, Nono led Livia down a crumbling hallway. It was lit only by the sporadic, eerie flickering of memory scripts and broken permission tags that pulsed on the walls like dying embers, casting long, distorted shadows that danced with phantom code. The air here was heavier than anywhere Livia had ever been in Aethelgard Online—not with dust or the metallic tang of typical dungeons, but with a profound, palpable emotion, like echoes of ancient grief still weeping in silence, clinging to the very air. Every breath Livia took felt burdened by untold digital sorrows.

The silence was broken only by the soft crunch of their steps on what felt like crystalline debris, fragments of broken data shards that glittered faintly under the sporadic light. Livia's senses, already heightened by her journey into this forbidden zone, registered the oppressive weight of the past, a history buried so deep even the Admins seemed to have excised it from their active memory. This was a place where information went to die, or perhaps, to be forgotten. The chill that permeated the hall wasn't just temperature; it was the cold of absolute, systemic abandonment.

They stopped before a shattered console, not merely broken but fundamentally fractured, embedded deeply in a wall made of fractured data-stone. The stone itself seemed to be composed of countless broken lines of code, shards of forgotten commands. Etched into its surface, half-corrupted by time and digital decay but still pulsing faintly with an internal light, were ancient lines of system code — remnants of something so primordial, so deeply ingrained, that it had been forgotten even by the Admins themselves, buried beneath layers of subsequent patches and updates. These glyphs were older than the game Livia knew, older than the Devata, perhaps older than the very concept of Aethelgard Online itself. This was a Memory Core, a digital archive of the system's earliest, most guarded truths.

Livia, drawn by an irresistible pull she couldn't explain, extended her hand. Her fingers, usually so sensitive to the subtle nuances of emotional data, ran gently across one of the glowing fragments, tracing the impossibly old script. As her skin brushed the cold, hard surface, the wall seemed to react; it whispered, not with wind or sound, but with an internal hum, a resonance that echoed deep within Livia's own being, as if remembering her touch from a time before memory. It felt like the stone itself was stirring, awakening from a long slumber.

Then, the lines of text burned into the stone pulsed brighter, making the ancient words momentarily crystal clear:

> LUXEMIRA_000.EXR

> "The world must forget us — so we can remember it."

>

Nono, who had been standing with a strange, almost fearful reverence, stared at the glowing words. His typically playful demeanor was gone, replaced by a profound solemnity. His voice, usually a light, mischievous whisper, shook with an awe and dread Livia had never heard from him.

"This… this is a record of the First Emotion, Livia. Where the world first felt. Before code became rule. Before balance became law." His eyes were wide, reflecting the flickering light of the ancient console, as if seeing a ghost. His entire being seemed to resonate with the forgotten power of the place.

Livia turned to him slowly, her mind struggling to reconcile his words with everything she knew of Aethelgard Online. "This LUXEMIRA_000.EXR... it's just a legend, isn't it? A patch note rumor. The 'Legendary Relic.' That's what players used to call it, right?" She remembered old forum threads, forgotten wikis, vague mentions of a primordial Items that gave rise to all buffs and drop rate loots, Aethelgard's most wanted item.

"It's more than that," Nono added, his gaze flicking to Livia, then back to the console. "Among certain players, the object these files refer to became a whispered conspiracy theory, a kind of ultimate 'white whale' of loot. They call it the Luxemira Relic. The legend says if a guild could find and claim it, their stats would go through the roof—drastically increased legendary item drop rates, bonus percentage to every character's stats, the works. The ultimate guild buff. But those are just fables, Livia. The real power… the real Luxemira Relic… is something else entirely. And it's still buried somewhere in the game world, hidden from everyone. This Memory Core," he gestured to the console, "is merely a key. A data point. Proof that the legend has a root in something real, but not in the way players imagine." His tone was tinged with bitter irony, acknowledging the mundane player perception against the profound truth that was beginning to unfold before them.

Nono didn't blink, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond Livia, perhaps seeing the echoes of the system's distant past. "This console wasn't a rumor. It was part of a test. A prototype for emotion too powerful for the devs to finish. So they buried it — here. Fragmented. Hidden across forgotten zones. They thought they could contain it, overwrite it, make the world forget the very idea of it. But something changed when you arrived."

He took a small step closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur that barely carried in the heavy air.

> "You don't just remember emotions, Livia. You carry them. And the moment you touched this place… the Resonance reawakened."

>

As Nono spoke, his words resonated with an impossible truth, a line of golden light sparked beneath Livia's boots. It wasn't a spell, nor a glitch. It was an organic, living light, forming a blooming spiral pattern that pulsed outward like a heartbeat, flowing across the fractured data-stone floor. With each pulse, a soft, resonant hum filled the air, a melody composed of pure, unfiltered data and forgotten memories. Livia felt it deep within her, an echo answering a call.

Suddenly, her HUD flickered, overriding the omnipresent dimness of the prison.

A new notification, unlike any she'd ever seen, bloomed before her eyes, golden glyphs against the sterile white:

> [NEW QUEST UNLOCKED: RESONANCE: LUXEMIRA]

> Objective: Reactivate the First Memory Core

> Unlocks: Empathic Override (Tier 2)

> Risk: System Panic / Reclassification Protocols

>

The floor beneath them quaked, not with violence, but with a deep, resonant thrum, like a giant, sleeping engine stirring to life. The ceiling pulsed, mirroring the golden spiral on the floor, the memory scripts and broken tags flashing in frantic, accelerated patterns. The very air vibrated, charged with an immense, dormant power that was now waking up. Livia instinctively reached for her Therapist's Log — her trusty companion, her shield against the chaos. But it too was glowing, humming with a deeper current, its golden light no longer merely a reflection of her emotional state, but connected to something far more fundamental. It pulsed in sync with the floor, radiating a warmth she'd never felt from it before. This was the kind of memory no log, no mere game item, should carry.

"You… might not just be 'in' the game," Nono whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of wonder and profound unease. He looked at Livia as if truly seeing her for the first time, recognizing a truth too large to comprehend. "You might become part of it." He wasn't talking about becoming just another NPC, or even a player. He was talking about something far more intertwined, far more fundamental. Livia, an anomaly, was now potentially becoming a core function, a living conduit for the very essence of Aethelgard.

Livia's hand hovered over the broken console, the ancient data-stone now radiating a tangible heat. Her mind raced, grappling with the implications. Reactivating the "First Memory Core" ? "Empathic Override (Tier 2)" ? And the risks... "System Panic / Reclassification Protocols." Those were Admin-level terms, consequences that could shatter not just her, but the entire world. Yet, the pull was undeniable, a current drawing her in. The trivial power the players thought the Luxemira Relic held—the drop rates and stat buffs—paled in comparison to the system-altering, reality-bending potential Livia now faced by merely touching this Memory Core. This wasn't about loot or stat buffs; it was about the very soul of the world, and Livia stood on its precipice.

"...What happens if I touch it?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, a stark contrast to the thrumming energy of the prison. The air crackled with anticipation.

Nono stepped back, fear flickering clearly in his eyes now, overriding his usual playful mischief. His reverence was tinged with genuine terror. "Then Luxemira remembers you back." His words hung in the air, a promise and a threat intertwined.

It wasn't just about Livia interacting with a console; it was about the original emotional core of the system, dormant for so long, recognizing her, recognizing the empathy it had birthed, and the profound changes that recognition might unleash.

She exhaled — a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, a profound release of tension and fear that had constricted her chest since her awakening. The scent of ozone filled the air, mingled with the faint, sweet smell of forgotten flowers. Her decision was made. This was her path, the truth she had to uncover, no matter the cost.

And pressed her palm to the console.

A shockwave of pure energy erupted, radiating outward from her touch. The world beneath her feet shattered, not into physical pieces, but into millions of glittering data fragments that swirled around her like a galaxy forming anew. The light surged, blinding in its intensity, overwhelming every one of her senses. The hum became a roar, the quaking a tremor that shook the very foundations of the Mainframe Prison, and perhaps, the entire game itself.

And everything changed. The boundaries between her, the console, and the world itself blurred, dissolving into an ocean of raw, uninterpreted information.

____

> [System Disturbance Detected – Origin: RELIC NODE]

> [EMPATHIC CORE ACTIVE]

>

> LUXEMIRA RESONANCE INITIATED

>