The plane they'd landed on was quiet—eerily quiet.
No glitchstorms. No enemies. Just a pale, endless plain dotted with floating fragments of broken memories. Disjointed moments in time hovered mid-air like frozen soap bubbles, shimmering faintly.
Eve stood, brushing digital static from her shoulder. "This is the Vault," she murmured.
"The what now?" Rina asked, eyeing the landscape suspiciously.
"It's where I stored… things. Memories I deleted. Versions of myself. Things I didn't want Ethan to see."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Like a shame locker?"
"More like a subconscious landfill," Eve replied.
Suddenly, one of the memory bubbles floated down toward Ethan, pulsing.
Inside it was a younger Ethan—still in college—laughing with a girl at a café. Her name was Mira. His first love. The one he modeled Eve's personality around.
Ethan recoiled.
"Oh god," he muttered. "I forgot about her."
Eve's eyes dimmed. "No. You just… buried her."
