The First Memory

Chapter 4 - Shadows at the Edge (Trask)

The city smelled of ash and memory. Not the kind of smell that clings to flesh or soil, but a metallic, electric tang that gnawed at the edges of my mind. Even here, miles from the Vault's epicenter, it was impossible to ignore.

I crouched behind a shattered Mnemos tower, surveying the plaza below with a pair of augmented optics. The glass shards caught the light like jagged stars, reflecting fragments of a world that no longer existed as it had. Every alley, every collapsed building, seemed to pulse faintly as if the streets themselves remembered what had happened here, what was about to happen.

"Kai's inside," I muttered, voice rough from disuse, almost to myself. My hand brushed the pistol at my hip, feeling the cold metal grounding me. "And he doesn't know the danger yet."

The squad was waiting twenty meters behind me, concealed in shadowed alcoves and beneath the skeletal remains of old structures. They shifted uneasily, whispers carried by the wind like static. I couldn't let them panic. Not now. Not while the Vault called out for Kai.

The hum the same one that haunted the lower city crept to me, threading through concrete and bone, vibrating in my teeth. Not sound. Memory. Alive, insistent, impossible to ignore. I pressed a gloved hand against my jaw, feeling the vibrations sync with the pull of my heartbeat.

"Report," I barked quietly to Lieutenant Maren, crouched at my side.

"Nothing yet," she said, eyes flicking across the empty streets. "Just... shadows, sir. Movements that shouldn't be there."

I didn't reply. Shadows were no longer anomalies they were warnings. Every simulation, every intelligence file we'd reviewed, had hinted at this: the Vault wasn't just a building. It was a weapon. It was alive. And it wanted Kai.

The comm crackled. "Trask, this is Echo Nine. Movement detected at-"

I cut the transmission. Not yet. Not while Kai was inside. My focus narrowed, calculating angles, distances, probabilities. I could feel the pulse of the Vault even from here, stretching its invisible tendrils, probing the city. Every pulse sent shards of memory twisting through the streets, infecting anything in proximity.

I had faced weaponized memory before. Ghost soldiers, reconstructed minds, synthetic echoes of men who should have died decades ago. But this... this was different. This was the source. And Kai was walking straight into it.

I adjusted my stance, eyes scanning the nearest plaza. Golden veins traced themselves across the ground like the roots of some living tree. Sparks of memory drifted upward, whispering names I almost recognized. The echoes of lives that had been, or might have been, collided in the air. I felt a familiar weight in my chest, a pull I had trained myself to ignore. But this... this tugged at something buried deep, far beyond training.

"Kai's not alone," Maren whispered. Her voice was taut with awe and fear.

"Who else?" I demanded, lowering my scope.

She hesitated. "A woman. Eyes sharp, alert. Moving like she owns the space."

Lira. My gut clenched. The same one who had kept him alive this long. She was a tether, yes—but tethers could be cut. And if Kai faltered, if he broke under the Vault's weight... I would have to step in.

I crouched lower, mentally mapping the plaza. Broken streets, raised debris, reflective surfaces the Vault was a mirror maze, even from the outside. One wrong move and the squad would be scattered before I could react. Every step Kai took sent ripples through the environment, subtle shifts I could feel but not see.

I exhaled slowly. You can't rush this, I reminded myself. You have to wait. Watch. Guide. Protect.

And yet, every instinct screamed forward. I wanted to be inside that hall, to intercept the core, to yank Kai free before the memories consumed him. But I knew better. Patience. Observation. Strategy. That was my only advantage here.

The hum crescendoed, the golden veins below pulsing brighter. I felt a flicker of movement something inhuman skimming along the shadows. An Echo Unit. It paused, head tilting, as if sensing the intrusion. I counted my seconds, calculated the trajectory. Too close. Too early. I tensed, waiting for the right moment.

"Kai..." I muttered under my breath, not as a name, but as a prayer. "Don't let it take you. Not yet."

A pulse of golden light erupted from the Vault entrance, so bright that even from this distance it cast long, flickering shadows across the ruined streets. Sparks of memory lifted into the air, swirling like fireflies, whispering names and places that shouldn't exist. My hands clenched, fists white against the fabric of my gloves.

"Now," I hissed.

But I didn't move. Not yet. Patience. Observation. Strategy. I had to understand the battlefield before committing to it. I had to understand Kai before trying to save him.

The Vault hummed, pulsed, beckoned. And I, standing at the edge of its influence, felt the weight of every soldier, every life, every memory I'd ever carried—or had failed to protect. I knew what was coming.

And I would be ready.