The silence after the explosion is heavier than the blast itself.
Not a sound. Not even wind.
Just the echo of what had been broken—and what couldn't be fixed.
Kara breathes in short, sharp bursts. Her knuckles are white, still gripping her blade though there's nothing left to strike. She doesn't look at the boy. Not yet.
Liora sits beside the chapel's ruined wall, staring at the stars as if they betrayed her.
Ashen… he's the first to speak.
"Cycle Nine was a lie."
The boy—the Seed—doesn't respond. His gaze is distant, but not blank. Like he's processing something far beyond anyone's understanding.
I kneel beside Kara. "You alright?"
She nods stiffly. But her voice cracks. "I should've seen it. Their code patterns weren't natural."
"No one could've," I say quietly. "They masked everything."
Ashen paces. "Not just masked. Rewritten. They piggybacked on Codex algorithms, used them to fabricate an entire identity layer. That's not something even the Observers are supposed to do."
Liora turns to the boy. "You called them liars. You knew."
He finally speaks. "I remembered. Not from this life… from another. One that burned."
Everyone freezes.
Kara lowers her blade. Her eyes search his. "What are you?"
He doesn't answer right away. Then—
"I think I'm… a graveyard of names. And none of them are mine."
The chapel creaks, the remnants of shattered reality still trying to stitch themselves together.
Ashen whispers, "The Integration they spoke of… is that what you're resisting?"
The boy stands. Slowly. As if every movement is a burden.
"I don't know what Integration means. But I know this: if I accept their version of me, I won't be me anymore."
Liora steps forward. "Then what do you want from us?"
His answer is simple.
"To be seen. Not as a weapon. Not as a codebase. Just… as a child who woke up in a world already at war."
A long silence follows.
Then Kara, the ever-stubborn warrior, does something no one expects.
She kneels.
Not in surrender.
In respect.
"You'll have that," she says softly. "As long as I breathe."
Ashen closes the Codex. "Then we protect him. And figure out what's really coming."
Liora nods, though her eyes are still cautious.
I look at the stars—now split into two symbols, glowing cold and unwelcoming.
Two paths. No map.
I whisper, mostly to myself: "So which one do we follow?"
The boy's voice, quiet but certain.
"Neither."
He looks up, the wind shifting around him.
"We'll make our own."
End of Chapter 24