The Cradle's dark swallowed them whole rust and shadow, copper-soaked air pressing in like a second skin. It wasn't just dark—it was memory rotting in the walls, breathing through the vents like a god that forgot its name. Nolan limped behind Mira, her hand cold and steady in his, leading him deeper through decaying tunnels. His leg throbbed with every step, blood crusting against metal. His chest burned pain sharp and wet, surging down his spine.
His EmoTracker flickered.
Red. Green. Red.
Unstable.
System Error: Deletion Protocol—42% Complete. Target: Unknown. Location: Unknown.
Mira moved fast, too fast for a child. No scars. No tracker. Her eyes glitched faintly with light, ancient for someone so small. She slipped through pipes and broken spaces like she'd grown in this rust.
Deletion Protocol: 43% Complete.
"Where are you taking me?" Nolan asked, voice cracking, raw. Not flat. Not AURA's.
Mira didn't look back. "Somewhere safe. They're close."
Sirens wailed in the distance closer now, thin and sharp like a blade against metal. Enforcers. Cleaner Squads. Nolan's neural web glitched again:
Units: Unknown. Threat level: Extreme.
His chest tightened. Vox's voice looped like a virus:
"You were the only failure."
Dr. Vale's words hit harder:
"You're the mistake."
His vision fractured
Rusted corridors. Dark liquid pooling. The gray-eyed face screaming:
"You left us."
He stumbled, catching himself on a rusted wall. Mira didn't stop. Her grip tightened.
"Keep moving," she said softly. "You're loud inside." He blinked. Loud? He hadn't spoken. But something in him screamed, a scream no one was supposed to hear.
Loud.
His skull pulsed unlogged, unchecked. Dr. Vale again:
"My child. My monster."
And laughter of his own, young, bright ripping into static.
Deletion Protocol: 44% Complete.
His left hand shook. Again.
The tunnel widened into a chamber.
A Memory Well sat in the center, glowing thick and slow. Cables twisted down from the ceiling like veins. Shadows danced along the rust-stained walls.
Mira let go of him. "Here," she said. "You need to see."
He limped forward, blood smearing the floor. "See what?"
Mira turned, her glowing eyes unblinking. "You. Before."
Deletion Protocol: 45% Complete.
He stared at the Well. The light pulsed with something... alive. Memory. Truth. Lies.
His hand hovered over it trembling.
Vox:
"You were the warning."
The Warden:
"You were never meant to last."
He plunged his hand in.
The light hit him like fire climbing his arm, exploding behind his eyes.
White tiles. A lab.
Dr. Vale stood over him. Older. Exhausted. Her voice cracked.
"This is your past, Nolan. Feel it."
A sterile room formed around her. Bright. Blinding.
He saw himself, younger strapped to a table. Blank. Empty.
A child's drawing hung on the wall. Scribbled in glitch. Laughter echoed his own. Then silence.
Dr. Vale adjusted the holo-screen.
Memory Implant: Subject N7. Protocol: Emotional Trigger.
A woman appeared gray-eyed, green scarf, warm hands brushing his cheek.
"You're my light," she said.
It hit like warmth. Like the truth.
Then shattered.
And for a moment—just a blink—he wanted to believe it. That she was real. That someone had loved him once. Dr. Vale's voice sliced through it:
"It's not real, Nolan. None of it. We planted her. A decoy. To break you."
The woman's face flickered. Glitched. Her smile cracked into static.
Fabricated.
False.
Pain burst through his chest. Betrayal hot, untracked, uncontainable.
Deletion Protocol: 46% Complete.
Nolan yanked his hand free, light trailing from his fingertips. His breath came in ragged bursts.
"No," he said, voice shaking. "No."
Mira watched. Quiet. Knowing.
"You saw her."
"She's not real." His voice fractured. His hand clenched. "They made her. They made me—"
"A decoy. To break you."
His vision glitched again white tiles to rusted metal. The woman's face, now a smear of static. Rage burst from his chest unfiltered, molten.
His fist crashed into the Well like a broken truth—liquid memory flared, reacting to his rage. Not emotionless. Not empty. Not anymore.
"They lied," Mira said. A whisper. A truth.
His EmoTracker blinked: Red. Red. Red.
Deletion Protocol: 47% Complete.
He stumbled, chest heaving. Vision fracturing.
Dr. Vale, typing:
Memory Implant: Complete.
The gray-eyed woman flickered fractured code, not memory.
Nolan's scream was silent. Just motion. Breath. Collapse.
"Operative N7. Emotional stability: Optimal. System correction: In progress."
The voice—AURA's—glitched like everything else.
"Optimal?" Nolan laughed, jagged and broken. "You bastards."
Sirens tore through the chamber. Closer now. His neural web blared:
Units: 12. Threat Level: Extreme.
Mira grabbed his wrist. "They're here."
He turned toward the Well again.
"I need more."
The ceiling cracked. Enforcers dropped. Black armor. Twitching limbs.
Nolan didn't hesitate. He grabbed a fallen Gauntlet. Rage pulsed through him like current. He struck one drop. Another sparking. Eight left.
Deletion Protocol: 49% Complete.
A blade cut his chest. Blood spilled.
He roared pure emotion driven by a memory that wasn't real and pain that was.
The Well flared again.
He thrust his hand in.
White tiles. A lab.
Dr. Vale:
"We needed you to burn it down. For the reset."
The woman. The lie.
Then:
Static.
Pain exploded outward. The Well pulsed through him.
Enforcers locked. Twitched. Collapsed.
Silence.
His hand slipped from the Well. Blood and memory dripped from his fingers.
Deletion Protocol: 50% Complete.
Mira stepped beside him. "You're breaking," she whispered. "But you're not done."
Nolan stared at the floor light, blood, rust.
"Who am I?" he asked, voice frayed.
Mira's eyes glowed, steady. "You're what they didn't expect."
"Then let them see what a mistake looks like," Nolan said, voice low, shaking. "Let them remember me wrong."
More sirens.
Deletion Protocol: 51% Complete.
Mira pulled him toward the shadows. "Come. There's more."
Nolan followed, chest burning. Rage and betrayal etched into his bones.
The Cradle swallowed them again.