Walking was like surfacing through cold glue.
Slow.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
My lungs dragged air in ragged pulls.
My vision reassembled itself grain by grain, pixel by pixel.
I was lying on the floor again—
same storage bay, same dim amber bulbs—
But everything felt different.
Like the world had lost a layer of insulation.
I lifted my hand.
I was gripping something.
A small object.
Warm.
Pulsing.
A memory fragment.
Physical.
Impossible.
The shard looked like polished glass, but the surface shimmered with faint images—
like a video playing beneath a frozen lake.
Lira's voice cut through the fog.
"Elias."
She knelt beside me, expression stretched tight with exhaustion and fear.
"You brought something back."
I stared at the fragment.
Inside it, I saw—
Grass.
Sunset.
A woman's silhouette turning toward me.
Marin's older-version voice echoed softly from within:
"Eli…"
I swallowed, throat burning.
"What is it?" I whispered.
Lira leaned closer, studying it with wide, horrified eyes.
"It's a personal future-echo. A memory of something that never happened."
I shook my head.
"But… how could I bring it out? That sector was collapsing—"
"Exactly." Lira swallowed. "You tore a piece of it with you. That shouldn't be possible."
The fragment pulsed again.
I flinched.
It almost felt like a heartbeat.
My heartbeat.
Lira sat back, rubbing her temple.
"Elias… this is dangerous. Future-echoes aren't meant to exist outside their simulation. They're unstable. They degrade other memories to stay intact."
The shard flickered—
showing Marin laughing
Marin asleep against my shoulder
Marin leaning over a kitchen counter, teasing me
Images that never belonged to reality.
"That's her," I whispered.
Lira caught my wrist gently but firmly.
"No. Elias—those are imprinted projections. Fabrications derived from her neural template. They're not memories she lived."
I looked up.
"Then why do they feel real?"
Her jaw tightened.
"That's why Mnemosyne forbade future-echo creation. Because simulated lives are built by copying the emotional architecture of real people—memories… relationships… bonds."
Her voice softened.
"And you, Elias—you were her anchor. The system grew her around you."
My chest clenched painfully.
"I don't care if it's simulated. She felt real."
Lira exhaled sharply.
"That's the problem."
She pointed at the shard.
"Whatever you pulled out—it's not complete. It will try to fill the gaps by pulling from your memories. Your real ones."
I blinked.
"…it'll steal from me?"
"To stabilize itself, yes."
I stared at the glowing glass.
"What if it's the only thing left of her?"
Lira hesitated.
"That's exactly how it tries to keep you attached."
A quiet sound rose from the fragment—
a soft hum,
like a lullaby played through static.
Marin's voice whispered inside it:
"Don't lose me again."
My breath hitched.
Lira reached for the shard.
"Elias—give it to me. Now. Before it anchors into your neural patterns."
I pulled it back instinctively.
"No."
"Elias—"
"No!"
The word echoed louder than I intended.
Silence fell between us.
Lira stared at me—
not angry,
not surprised—
But heartbroken.
"Elias," she whispered, "you're already merging with it."
I shook my head hard.
"No. I just—this fragment—this is all I have left of her."
Lira's voice trembled.
"That's what the shadow wants you to believe."
My stomach dropped.
"What?"
She closed her eyes.
"That fragment wasn't left behind accidentally. He let you take it. It's bait."
The shard flickered rapidly—
once
twice
three times—
The images inside distorting.
Marin's silhouette twisted
then straightened
then twisted again—
like something inside her was trying to break free.
Lira grabbed my shoulders.
"Think about it. Why would the forbidden sector collapse everywhere except where you were standing? Why did he let you hold on long enough to pull a memory chunk out?"
My grip tightened.
"He wanted me to save it."
"No," she whispered,
"He wanted it to attach to you."
The shard pulsed so strongly it warmed my palm.
A new voice whispered in my mind:
"Let me in."
I staggered backward.
Lira swore under her breath.
"Oh no—Elias, look at your hand."
I looked.
The shard's glow had spread—
thin blue filaments snaking up my palm,
weaving along my wrist like invading veins.
I couldn't breathe.
"Lira—"
Her voice turned deadly serious.
"Don't panic.
We can still disconnect it."
"How?"
She reached for a case on the shelf and yanked it open—
grabbing a small, needle-like device.
A neural disruptor.
"Hold still."
"No—wait—!"
She grabbed my wrist.
And Marin's voice screamed from the shard:
"DON'T TOUCH HIM."
The entire room shook—
Lights flickered—
crates rattled—
air pressure shifted—
And behind me—
in the far corner—
a dark shape pooled like smoke forming a body.
The shadow unfolded from the darkness, almost human-shaped.
Lira froze, terror ripping across her face.
"It's… it's here? Fully manifested?"
The shadow's voice slid through the room like oil:
"You brought a piece of her out.
And now she clings to you.
You belong to me."
I tried to step back.
My legs wouldn't move.
The shard's light crawled further up my forearm.
Marin's voice whispered inside my skull:
"Let me in, Eli… please…"
And for the first time—
Her voice didn't sound like a memory.
It sounded like someone alive.