Back in the Academy's high-security lab, the Psychic Spore sample was analyzed. The results were terrifying.
"It doesn't just infect through dreams," reported the lead Scholar, a nervous man with four eyes. "It rewrites memory. It can make you believe you've always served the Corrupted. It targets emotional bonds first—turning loved ones against each other."
Kaelen watched Echo closely. "Your bond resisted it on Xylos. How?"
"We trust each other," Echo said simply.
"Trust isn't a quantifiable defense."
"Maybe it should be."
Kaelen said nothing, but her gaze lingered.
Later, in his quarters, Echo examined the Soul-Shard again. This time, he let his consciousness brush it.
He saw flashes of the dead Commander's memories:
A world of light, being swallowed by shadow.
The despair of becoming what you hate.
The endless, hungry loneliness of corruption.
And deeper—a name, repeated like a prayer: "Nyx'thal."
A Darkness-Class entity. The source of this sector's corruption.
The shard showed him something else: the Corrupted weren't just mindless. They were trapped. And in their entrapment, they hated Order for being free.
It was a tragic, monstrous flaw.