Chapter 17. Blind Protocol

The third knock wasn't loud. But it was timed.

Axel opened his eyes, already on his feet before the orb on the wall could flicker awake. The room was dim, and Kaelin was still asleep, she had one arm over her head and her breath was even.

He approached the door quietly, hand already at his side. Not for a weapon but for certainty.

He opened it halfway.

Two figures in slate-gray stood in the corridor. No insignia. No greetings.

Just a line:

"You're needed at Junction Three."

He didn't answer and just nodded.

There were no questions were asked and explanations offered.

They left without waiting for him to follow.

He dressed silently. Kaelin stirred only when he fastened his boots.

"You're going?"

"They didn't really ask."

She sat up, blanket falling away from her shoulders. "Did they say why?"

"Junction Three."

That was all.

Kaelin's eyes narrowed. "That's not a Registry site."

"No."

She stood, grabbing her shirt and pulling it over her head. "I'm coming with you."

He hesitated but then nodded. "Grab your tag."

The corridors were nearly empty. The few who crossed their path averted their eyes. Lights dimmed slightly as they walked. Not power-saving. Intentional.

NEX was quiet. But that wasn't comfort.

> Passive channels scrambled.

> Interference not system-native.

> Error code: [NULL SEED / BRANCHLOCK].

> Tracking disabled.

"Kaelin." His voice was low. "If anything happens—"

"I leave you behind and run screaming into the night?" she said flatly.

He exhaled through his nose. "Something like that."

She bumped her shoulder lightly against his. "Then I'll just scream later."

Junction Three was not a junction.

It was a sealed chamber, accessed via two biometric scans and one unmarked key. No sign. No interface. Just a heavy door that hissed as it opened.

Inside, five people waited.

Four wore the standard midnight-blue of high-level operatives. One didn't.

She wore white.

Her face was unfamiliar. Her presence wasn't.

"Axel," she said without preamble. "You've been flagged."

Kaelin stepped forward. "On what grounds?"

"Systemic ambiguity. Thread divergence. Metric drift. Choose your term."

"I haven't done anything," Axel said.

"Exactly," the woman replied, stepping forward. "You've survived without triggering containment. That is a deviation."

Axel's jaw tightened. "I've followed every instruction."

She studied him, eyes unreadable. "Yes. But you haven't conformed."

She motioned to the operatives. They didn't move.

Instead, a console behind her lit up it was one unlike any Axel had seen.

No runes. No glyphs.

Just light. Binary patterns. Streamed text.

A second later, he felt NEX jolt.

> External override request: DECLINED.

> Cross-system handshake denied.

> Warning: mirror injection detected.

The woman narrowed her eyes, as if hearing the echo. "Your symbiotic layer. It's not bonded. It's wrapped."

Kaelin stepped in front of Axel. "This isn't protocol."

"No," the woman said. "This is a diagnostic."

"Then run it on your own constructs."

The woman tilted her head slightly, amused. "We tried. They didn't survive the interface."

Axel spoke. "What do you want from me?"

"Not want," she said. "Need. Clarification."

The wall behind her shifted. A projection flared to life.

It showed him.

Or what should have been him.

Same face. Same height. Same mark on his back but older. And surrounded by people kneeling.

"Do you recognize this?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

He stared.

His chest tightened.

"I said no."

> Memory suppression threshold at 67%.

> Anomaly recognition: unstable.

> Emotional resonance detected: HIGH.

She smiled.

Then shut it off.

"You'll remain under observation," she said. "No restrictions. But we will follow the threads more closely now."

"And if they diverge again?" Kaelin asked.

The woman turned to her.

"They will."

Back outside, neither of them spoke.

The air felt colder. The sun above the Citadel was unchanged, but something beneath it wasn't.

< Surveillance level updated: Grade III.

< Drift probability: 44%.

< Status: Reversible with anchor.

"What does that mean?" Axel asked aloud.

< It means: don't isolate.

He glanced at Kaelin.

She was already watching him. "What did it say?"

He didn't lie.

"It said you're the anchor."

They returned in silence.

The moment the door closed behind them, Kaelin locked it.

She didn't speak.

She pulled him to her. Not like the night before.

Like necessity.

Like a signal to the world outside: He's not yours to dissect.

Later, Axel sat near the window, watching the lights dim one by one across the district.

Kaelin slept, breath steady.

His mark pulsed once. Not in pain. In response.

> External construct proximity: undefined.

> Trace pattern detected: matched signature.

> Source: Below.

He narrowed his eyes.

Then stood.

He walked quietly, descending one level below their room, into the maintenance corridor rarely used at this hour. It smelled of iron and stone, the wiring along the walls humming with static tension.

At the far end, something glimmered.

He crouched.

A sigil burned into the stone.

The lines were precise. Angular. Familiar.

Not from memory.

From the dream.

He didn't touch it.

He stared.

Then reached back, slowly lifting his shirt.

The mark on his back throbbed once.

The sigil on the floor shimmered.

Then pulsed in sync.

> ALERT: Resonance match exceeds suppression tolerance.

> Warning: Subsurface beacon activated.

> Source: Ancient-tier protocol – Uncatalogued.

> Suggestion: RETREAT IMMEDIATELY.

He didn't move.

> Override failed.

> Manual suppression initiated.

> Sync falling—81%… 75%…

Then, a voice thas was neither from NEX nor from the system.

But something else, rising faintly through his spine.

Not in language. But intent.

Return.

Core drift accepted.

You are cleared.

Axel took a step back.

The sigil dimmed.

But the message remained burned into his skull.

He returned to the room, slowly. Sat down without waking Kaelin.

She shifted slightly in her sleep. Whispered something under her breath.

A name. His name.

But it didn't sound like hers.

> Status: STANDBY.

> Anchor verified.

> Drift condition: evolving.

> Access nodes pending.

> End of transmission.

He held his breath. The glow from the wall orb pulsed once and then steadied again, as if nothing had happened.

Kaelin's breathing returned to its slow rhythm, but the moment had unsettled him. Not because she'd said his name, but because of the way she had said it.

Like a memory surfacing through someone else.

He stayed still, eyes open now, staring at the faint shadows shifting on the ceiling.

> Drift condition: evolving.

The message still floated in his mind, lingering longer than usual. Just that one line repeating like a pulse. 

Was it his condition? Hers? The bond between them?

He turned slightly, careful not to wake her. Her body was close and still she looked calm, untroubled. As if her system, whatever hybrid interface she might have, hadn't registered the anomaly. Or had accepted it.

But something had shifted. He could feel it, not just in the static of the air, but under his skin.

Not pain. Not signal noise. Just… resonance.

As though part of him was syncing to a rhythm outside his own.

Not Kaelin. Not NEX. Something older.

He closed his eyes again, but the darkness didn't feel quiet anymore.