Aurel stood alone, blood staining the tip of the blade that should not exist in this world.
The streets were empty.
The sky was still broken.
In the distance, emergency sirens howled like dying wolves.But the chaos was no longer outside. It was inside him.
He stared at the symbol etched in fire on the wall:
"COME HOME, DARK ONE."
He felt it again—the tremor in his chest. That thing the system tried to overwrite.Not power. Not anger.Memory.
He didn't go home. He didn't run.
He walked.
Through alleyways soaked in mana fallout. Past collapsed drones and confused civilians. Until he reached the ruins of a place he once hated—The Wall of the Unchosen.
A public monument. A list of every human who died trying to enter the caves.His mother's name was there. So was his father's—recently added.
He touched the etched letters.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I thought being chosen meant everything."
A soft mechanical whir cut through the silence.
A bot hovered into view—a tiny spherical drone with one cracked lens.
"You shouldn't be here."
He turned, but it didn't attack.
"You were supposed to forget."
Aurel narrowed his eyes. "You're not a surveillance drone, are you?"
"No," it replied. "I'm Mira. I'm what's left of the original interface system. And I've been waiting for you for a long time."
Meanwhile… in Fantaso
Deep within the cursed continent of Virell—the fallen Demon Territories—a black sun hovered above the ruins of a city once called Velkarth.
And beneath it, a throne rebuilt itself.
Stone, bone, and memory.
Figures in cloaks circled it, chanting words long banned by the gods. They were not demons. They were something worse.
Humans.
One of them—an elder with half a face—opened a book bound in skin.
"He returns," the elder rasped. "The Knight reborn. The catalyst."
The throne pulsed.
The black sun flared.
And in the shadows, a chained figure stirred—a woman with silver eyes and bloodless lips.
"He still remembers me…" she whispered.
"Gray... you promised you'd kill the world if I ever died."
Back on Earth
Mira hovered beside Aurel as they walked through a hidden tunnel beneath the Wall of the Unchosen.
"Seven years ago, when you began saving for the elixir," she said, "you were already under observation."
"By who?"
"Not the government. Not the System."
She paused.
"By the Architect."
Aurel froze.
"He's the one who created the Chosen Program. The Gates. The cave system."
"But he's not human anymore. He left long ago—into the Core—and he's been waiting for something to wake him."
Aurel clenched his fists.
"Me."
Mira's light dimmed. "There were twelve Remnants. Survivors from the Interface Collapse of the First Era. You're the last."
Aurel stopped.
They had reached a vault door.
"Beyond this," she said, "is the memory shard of your first death. You can reject it. Or reclaim it."
He stared at the door, heart hammering.
Behind it, he would remember the truth—not just of how he died, but of who killed him.
"Let me in."
The door opened.
And inside was his body.
Not his current one.
Not his Earth body.
The corpse of the Darkest Knight, still clad in demonsteel armor, suspended in a tank of sealed stasis fluid.
His eyes were open.
And they were staring back at him.
[Memory Sync Stage 2 Initiated: "The Night of the Twelve Thorns" Unlocked]