The approach to the Seed Vault was still.
Not quiet.
Still — the kind of silence that settles after something important dies.
There were no thread-veins underfoot. No rot. No ambient hum of system activity. The air hung stagnant, heavy with things left unfinished.
The Rotkin Alpha advanced low to the ground, body tense, armored limbs absorbing sound with each step. It moved like a shade—purposeful, reverent, and aware that this place had never been meant to be found.
Above it, the sky cracked but didn't bleed.
Ahead of it, the ground sloped down into the dark.
A narrow corridor stretched toward the Vault — walls of half-fused system code and boneglass. Every surface looked half-erased, like the system had tried to delete the zone… but something had refused to go.
Ten paces ahead: a door.
Wide.
Unsealed.
Waiting.
[Zone Entered: System Cache Vault 3C]
[Access Clearance: None]
[Defenses: Suppressed | Guardian Class: Veilbound (Active)]
[Warning: Echo Residue Detected – Origin Link: Subject "Elian" (Redacted)]
The Alpha stopped.
It stared at the Vault door.
Then, without command or hesitation, it stepped forward.
Its claws sank into the ancient seal.
The door hissed — not open, but awake. Runes pulsed and then dimmed.
And then…
It opened.
Not by force.
But by memory.
As if it remembered who had sent this servant.
The Vault was not dark.
But it wasn't lit, either.
The walls shimmered faintly with broken system threads, looping in slow spirals. Bone columns framed the chamber, each one carved with names in a script long since deprecated.
At the center stood a pedestal.
Simple.
Cracked.
And upon it — a Seed.
No larger than a fist.
Uneven. Slick. Pulsing.
Thread-wrapped and cracked at its core, as though it had tried to contain something… and failed.
The Alpha approached.
Until something moved.
Between it and the Seed.
Not a monster.
Not a trap.
A figure.
Draped in robes of soft static and old thread. Its shape was human. Its stillness wasn't.
The figure stood motionless, hands clasped in front, facing the Seed.
No visible face.
No echo.
But the moment it turned its head, the Vault rippled.
As if memory itself bent around it.
It spoke.
"He sent you."
The voice was dry.
Not aged — tired.
Exhausted by time.
"He was never meant to reach this far."
"And yet… here you are."
[Entity Detected – Classification: Veilbound Warden]
[Echo Status: Fragmented Shell]
[Designation: Memory Host – Bound to Origin Layer 1C]
[Warning: This entity remembers a version of Subject 'Elian' that the system deleted.]
The Alpha crouched, claws flexing into the floor.
Not in aggression.
But reverence.
"Do you protect the Seed?" it asked.
"No," the Warden replied.
"I protect him from it."
A pause.
"Or I did."
It turned.
Lowered its hood.
And underneath—
Was not a face.
Not fully.
Just pieces.
And yet the Alpha recognized it.
Not from battle.
Not from vision.
But from Elian.
This face had been his once.
Before rot. Before corruption. Before survival became more important than identity.
A memory, shaped into flesh.
A version of the Crownless before the crown was broken.
The Seed pulsed harder.
The Vault trembled.
The Warden stepped forward once.
Not with threat.
But with a sadness deeper than blood.
"He gave up so much to become what he is."
"But not all of it was taken by force."
"Some of it… he gave willingly."
The Alpha did not move.
Its rot armor bristled — not from fear.
But from something more primal.
Denial.
This thing… this shell… wasn't trying to stop him.
It was trying to remind him.
Of a truth Elian had buried so deep, even the system had failed to find it.
"You remember him," the Alpha said slowly.
"As he was."
"I serve him as he is now."
The Warden tilted its head.
"Then you must choose."
It gestured behind it — toward the Seed.
"Take it."
"And he may become more than what he is."
"Or less."
The Alpha didn't blink.
Didn't falter.
"He already chose."
"So I do, too."
The Warden closed its eyes.
"Then show me."
The room twisted.
The Seed pulsed violently.
And the Vault became a place where memory bled into now.