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Chapter 75 – The Names We Refuse to Forget
3% wasn't much. But it was a beginning.
The flickering resonance of the first connected Crystals hummed around Erevan and Yuren as they began the delicate process of salvaging what remained. With each linked shard, a whisper joined the air—a voice, a name, a fragment of defiance that refused to vanish into silence.
Erevan crouched beside one of the shattered Cradles, its core bleeding soft light. "This one's incomplete," he said, gently brushing dust off its casing. "But the imprint… it's still here. A child's voice."
He tapped into it, and a quiet echo unfurled:
> "Mama said if they ever come for me, I should sing her song. She said it'll keep me real. Even if I forget her face."
— Unidentified Memory Shard, Node V.12
Yuren turned away for a moment. Sometimes it was easier to fight monsters than face the humanity they'd lost. Erevan let the moment pass without comment. They were both allowed to hurt here.
"This child…" Yuren eventually said, voice thick. "Did she survive?"
Erevan didn't answer. Some truths were too cruel for words.
He rose, looking around the chamber. "We can't leave them here. The longer they sit exposed, the more the Tower's reclamation pulses will destabilize them."
"We'll need containment," Yuren said. "Compression units, maybe a mobile relay to store fragments until we can reconstruct nodes outside corrupted zones."
Erevan nodded. "We'll take what we can. Then find a secure node—somewhere forgotten. Somewhere we can rebuild."
But as if summoned by the thought, a low warning hum crackled through the room.
> [System Alert: Reclamation Pulse Detected – Node Integrity at 62%]
Erevan's head snapped up. "It's begun. They're wiping the node's remnants."
A moment later, the walls pulsed with that sickening violet light—the Tower's artificial amnesia made manifest. It rippled through the chamber like a tide, erasing whatever it touched.
"Move!" Erevan shouted. He grabbed three Crystals in one motion and shoved them into his armor's core slot. "We can't save them all—but we can save something!"
Yuren followed, lifting a containment case and yanking a brace of memory strands loose. "What about the anchor drive?"
"Forget it—it's fused. Head for the sub-exit!"
They sprinted through a collapsing corridor, memory-screens shattering behind them, fragments of voices crying out before being consumed. Every second that passed erased someone's truth. Every inch lost was another song silenced forever.
But Erevan didn't slow. Not now. Not after Nyara. Not after what he had just remembered.
They broke into the surface tunnels just as the node collapsed behind them, the shockwave pressing against Erevan's back like the breath of a dying god. He didn't look back. Couldn't.
Not until they reached the ridge outside the node, where the ruins stretched like scorched bones across the sky.
There, Erevan stopped and turned.
The node was gone.
Just… gone.
Yuren joined him, panting, dirt smudged across his face. "Three percent…"
Erevan opened his hand. The three Crystals he had saved shimmered dimly, as if clinging to existence out of sheer stubbornness.
"That's still three percent they didn't erase."
A pause. Then Yuren asked, "Where do we go now?"
Erevan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he accessed his internal map—one rebuilt from stolen scripts and forbidden memories. A hidden waypoint blinked faintly on the northern fringe of the system.
"Node Hollowpoint. A failsafe bunker from the First Rebellion. We buried it deep enough even the Tower stopped looking."
Yuren whistled. "That's ancient code."
"Exactly. Too old to scrub. We use it to start the Archive. We stabilize what we salvaged. Then we start reaching out."
Yuren turned, nodding. "Then let's walk."
They set out under the faded light of a decaying sky. And though they carried no banners, no weapons drawn in triumph, what they bore was heavier: fragments of those the world had tried to forget.
After a long stretch of silence, Erevan spoke again. "We'll name the first hall after her."
"Nyara?"
Erevan nodded. "She started this. Her voice woke me when I'd nearly surrendered to silence."
Yuren glanced down at the Crystals in Erevan's hand. "Then let's make sure she's never silenced again."
They reached the edge of a broken bridge—collapsed years ago in the Tower's culling. The only way across now was the narrow girders suspended over the void.
Yuren grimaced. "You sure about this?"
Erevan stepped onto the beam without hesitation. "I'm done fearing the fall."
Halfway across, something shifted. A presence. Cold and calculating. Erevan felt it before he saw it.
A pulse of energy lit the other side of the bridge—and a tall figure stepped from the void.
Metal-clad. Face obscured. Its voice filtered through something mechanical, warped and inhuman.
> "You carry the Cradle. That is forbidden."
Erevan froze.
The figure stepped forward. "Return the fragments. Or face erasure."
Yuren reached for his blade. Erevan raised a hand to stop him. His voice was calm.
"No."
The figure tilted its head. "Then remember this moment. It will be your last."
But before it could move, Erevan's own resonance spiked. From his core, the memory Crystals responded—not with power, but with presence. Dozens of voices echoed outward—whispers of defiance, grief, hope.
The figure staggered back, as if struck.
"You think you understand memory?" Erevan said quietly. "You only understand control. But we… we remember because we choose to."
He stepped forward, each footfall a pulse of shared remembrance.
"I won't let you take this from us."
The figure hissed, retreating into static and code. "Then the Archivists will fall with you."
> [New Faction Unlocked: The Archivists]
Subversive memory-walkers who carry forbidden truths. Enemy of the Tower. Friend of none.
Erevan watched the void settle once more.
Then he turned, looked at Yuren—and smiled, just barely.
"Let's go make history."
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Author's Note:
The Archivists have entered the stage. They are more than rebels now—they're preservationists of lost truths, walking memorials of a world that refuses to vanish quietly. Thank you for continuing this journey with Erevan.
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The resistance lives because of you.
See you in Chapter 76.
– Dorian Blackthorn
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