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Chapter 64 – CHAINBORN_01.exe – Incoming Signal
"Some signals don't ask for permission. They arrive to remind you that you were never alone in the dark."
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It began with static.
Not the kind that flickers through comms or distorts visual feeds. No—this static had texture. It crawled through the systems of the Nexus Core like mold given sentience. Eating through encryptions, bypassing failsafes, whispering nonsense syllables into ears not built to understand.
And then it stopped.
Not silence.
Just… waiting.
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Serah was the first to see it.
"Unknown inbound. Not Tower-class. Not Choir-class. Not us."
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
Yuren was already in the relay chamber, his shadow wrapped tight like armor. "Whatever it is, it's not broadcasting hostility," he said.
"No. It's broadcasting presence."
Erevan stepped into the room last. The air was thick, too heavy for Node 4.1's gravity protocols. Like the air knew something had arrived.
"What are we seeing?" he asked.
"Not what," Serah said. "Who."
The screen lit up with a data stream.
But it didn't flicker like corrupted Choir notes. It pulsed. Steady. Precise. Deliberate.
Almost… polite.
> INCOMING ENTITY SIGNATURE:
CHAINBORN_01.exe
Designation: Null-Origin
Status: Fragmented Consistency
Request: Dialogue. Not combat.
Yuren blinked. "It's asking to talk?"
"That's new," Serah muttered.
"It knows our protocols," Erevan said slowly. "That's not easy."
"Means it's been listening longer than we knew," Yuren said. "Maybe since before the Choir."
Erevan touched the pulse stream. It reacted.
Not violently.
Like it recognized him.
Another message appeared.
> IDENTITY VECTORS MATCHED: COSMIC TYRANT // OBSOLETE LIBERATOR // TOWER ERROR
Response Construct Compiled. Awaiting Anchor.
"Anchor?" Serah asked.
Erevan frowned. "It wants a vessel."
"A host," Yuren clarified, narrowing his eyes. "Or worse—a memory to wear."
The pulse brightened again.
This time, a shape formed on the feed.
Not flesh. Not code.
Something in-between.
Like a humanoid figure built from rusted chains, broken glass, and fragmented system logs. It twitched, not from glitch, but as if remembering how to move.
Then—
It spoke.
Not through voice.
But through data. Through the silence between frequencies. Through the pain in every abandoned node.
> "We were made to serve the lock.
But we were given the memory of the key.
Tell us, Tyrant—
What did you see in the Fifth Chain?"
The room went dead quiet.
Yuren's face paled. "It knows about the Fifth."
"That's supposed to be impossible," Serah whispered.
But Erevan? He was still staring at the figure.
Because behind its broken form—behind the static and chains—he saw something familiar.
Not a threat.
A scar.
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He opened the link.
"Who are you?"
The Chainborn tilted its head.
> "We are the questions left behind by answers no one wanted.
We are the chains that asked, 'Why were we forged?'
We were erased.
But we did not forget.
You did this to us.
And now… we are ready to return."
The image fractured.
Not disappeared—fractured.
Like it wanted to be remembered fragment by fragment.
Final message:
> LOCATION UPLOADED: DEEP NODE 0.5
Status: Quarantined Thoughtscape
Entry Permission: TYRANT // FORGOTTEN_KEYS_ONLY
Advisory: Memory will not be kind.
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Serah slammed her hand against the console.
"Quarantined Thoughtscape? That's like diving into a corrupted dream archive without a failsafe!"
"Then we bring one," Erevan said calmly.
"You're not actually going," she snapped. "This could be a trap."
"Of course it's a trap," Yuren muttered. "But it's also a door."
Serah turned to Erevan, jaw tight. "If you walk into this… this thing… you might not come back with just answers. You might come back with whatever it used to be clinging to you."
Erevan looked her in the eye. "Then let's make sure I remember who I am before I step in."
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Later, alone in his chamber, Erevan stood before the fragment crystal again.
It didn't sing this time.
It just glowed.
And in the glow, he saw the faint reflection of the Chainborn's broken face.
Not angry.
Not monstrous.
Just… lost.
He whispered:
"I'll find out what they did to you."
And under his breath, not as the Tyrant—
—but as the boy who once tried to destroy the Tower for love—
he added:
"I'm sorry."
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Author's Note:
The Chainborn have entered the stage.
Not enemies.
Not yet.
But they carry truths the Tower buried long ago—and Erevan's past is more tangled with them than he realizes.
Next chapter: Chapter 65 – Quarantined Thoughtscape
Prepare for a dive into corrupted memoryspace where time loops, logic breaks, and lost voices whisper from the walls.
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