The First Memory

Chapter 11 - Into the Memory Storm(Kai)

I wanted to pull back, run, escape the suffocating tide of memory pressing at me. Faces flickered across the cracked plaza some crying, some screaming, some laughing—and all of them were mine, or were me, or fragments of me I hadn't yet claimed. The past pressed through the air, tangible and suffocating.

A sudden rattle of debris made me jerk. Lira's other hand went to her blade. "Quiet," she whispered. "Eyes open. Watch everything."

I did. Shadows shifted unnaturally at the edges of my vision, forming soldiers, children, strangers echoes of the Vault's past occupants. Blink, and they were gone. The world breathed around me in ways that made no sense, reality bending under the weight of memory.

"We can't linger," Lira said, tugging my arm. "The Vault isn't patient. It knows you're coming."

I stumbled forward, letting her guide me. Streets twisted, collapsing and reforming under invisible hands, forcing us down narrow corridors and over broken bridges, past skeletal remains of collapsed buildings. Glass towers reflected in broken mirrors, doubling the city in impossible angles. A city alive with memory, echoing itself endlessly.

Then we saw it. The Vault.

It rose from the ruins like a wound in the sky, doors immense and carved with spirals pulsing faintly with gold light. The hum became a roar in my chest. I bit down on my fist to keep from screaming.

"Stay close," Lira said, pressing my back, guiding me forward.

I swallowed and stepped closer. Every pulse of light, every vibration, reached into me, probing, testing. Somewhere beneath fear and chaos, I felt the glimmer of power waiting. Somewhere, my name whispered in the folds of memory-wind.

The doors groaned as we pushed them open, each echo like a gunshot through the hollow chamber. The Vault wasn't just space it was alive, breathing, pulsing, veins of gold snaking across stone floors like a sleeping creature's body. The hum threaded through me, through chest, teeth, bones. I stumbled, and Lira caught me, grounding me.

"Focus on me," she whispered, tethering me to the present.

The corridor shifted beneath our feet. Walls stretched, twisted, revealing lives behind the surface soldiers marching, children running through white light, fires burning in shapes familiar yet impossible. Memory didn't obey reason—it claimed.

"Stop it. Name what you see," Lira said sharply.

I tried. A city burning in rain. My hands gripping a dying soldier. Faces I should remember but couldn't. Each memory etched itself into my consciousness, golden veins threading through me, while the Vault hummed, alive and watching.

Ahead, a figure appeared one of the Echo Units, its skull-like head shimmering between black and gold, eyes hollow but fixed. Its movements were human-like, but not human.

"They're... watching," I said, voice cracking.

"Not watching," Lira corrected. "Waiting. And they recognize you."

Recognition. The realization hit ice-cold. K‑001. The First Host. The Vault knew me or someone like me. Someone I had been, someone I might be again.

The corridor stretched endlessly. Golden veins pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. Then the first whisper came, threading through the hum:

"Kai... find me."

I shivered. "Do you hear it?"

Lira nodded, eyes wide. "It's calling to you. The Vault's core... it wants you. But don't give it everything. Not yet."

We pressed on. Floor rippled beneath boots. Lives I'd never lived brushed my skin like wind. The Vault pulled, patient, ancient, infinite. And somewhere behind the walls, I thought I heard Trask's voice faint and distorted, warning, calculating. But he wasn't here. Not really.