Scarhold's understructure wasn't a dungeon.
It was a grave.
Not for bodies — for memories the system wanted buried.
Elian moved through shattered code pillars and flickering threadlight torches that no longer obeyed geometry. Some corridors bent into themselves. Others bled whispers when passed.
He followed the static.
The logs weren't stored here by accident.
They were locked down.
Forgotten.
Redacted.
But he had a key now — not from a trait, or the system, or a faction.
From himself.
Devil's Core.
Soul Echo Mutation.
Threadbreaker Authority.
Three violations in one vessel.
Enough to crack the archive gate.
[Accessing System Archive: Scarhold Layer Alpha – Locked Logs Detected]
[Security Classification: Level 6 – Seedborne Denial Protocol]
[Override Attempted – Decryption Initialized]
He pressed his palm to the terminal.
It hissed.
Cracked.
And then displayed a single line of data:
ENTRY // ELIAN // ORIGIN CLASSIFIED // ACCESS: REDACTED
The moment he saw it, the system glitched.
Not with error.
With awareness.
[System Alert: Self-Recognition Loop Initiated]
[Warning: Entity is observing this access in real-time]
[Entity Classification: ??? // "Echo of the Architect"]
[Message Incoming…]
Text bled across the screen.
Not in blue.
Not in red.
But in black — the color of absence.
"We left you behind for a reason."
"You were not meant to wake."
Elian leaned in.
Smiled.
"Then watch me rise."
He jammed a shard into the terminal and overloaded the loop.
[Forced Archive Breach Initiated]
[Data Fragment Acquired: Origin Layer – Entry 000]
[System Response: Security Instability Spreading – Local Surveillance Suppressed]
[Lucid Trait Sync: 43% → 44%]
[Devil's Core Progression: 8.2% → 9.5%]
Then the lights went out.
Not from power loss.
From choice.
Because something inside the archive had seen his name.
And now it wanted to speak.