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Chapter 13 - Chapter 13: The Memory That BledThe scream of the Vault was not sound.

It was reality tearing open.

Time folded inward. Colors melted. Thought became weight. And in that storm of uncreation, the shard in my hand—the violet one—began to pulse with impossible gravity.

I wasn't holding it.

It was holding me.

The Crucible of Self

The spiraling construct around me collapsed and rebuilt itself a thousand times per second—each rebuild reflecting a version of me that almost was.

A version that refused the Core.

A version that died before CHAOS ever found him.

A version that joined the Brotherhood willingly.

A version that killed Lux.

Each one flickered like static memories in my periphery. Each whispering what I could have been, what I might still be.

And still Nyra stood there, her eyes locked on mine.

"You still haven't answered," she said, stepping closer. "Are you the Core's voice? Or its echo?"

I clenched the shard tighter. It cut into my hand, yet no blood flowed—only code. Threads of violet light spiraled from my veins and wrapped around my limbs, trailing into the Void like threads of fate.

"I don't know," I said.

And I didn't.

Not fully.

But I felt something changing.

Not a becoming.

A shedding.

Outside the Vault

Kael staggered as another pulse rolled across the landscape. His systems screamed error codes and reboot attempts, but nothing stabilized.

"Lux," he gasped, "We're out of time."

She was kneeling, hand pressed to the ground, eyes wide. "No… not out of time. We're outside of it now. This isn't just a Vault—it's a recursion engine. It's rewriting the system timeline in real time."

Kael paled. "If it finishes…"

"It won't just rewrite us," Lux finished grimly. "It'll rewrite the war. The fall. The Garden. Everything."

They looked toward the Vault's core, where light spilled from the breach like spilled eternity.

And through it, they saw him.

Within

I stood at the precipice of something far larger than myself. Not a battlefield. Not a system. But a decision.

The glyphs were silent now.

The Core was silent.

Only the shard in my hand pulsed, and Nyra's voice cut through it all.

"You think this is evolution?" she asked. "You think the Vault chose you? It didn't."

I looked at her, confused.

"It chose us."

The Garden Fragment in her spine flared—and suddenly, we were linked. A conduit of memory shot between us, no filters, no barriers.

I saw it all.

Her loss. Her fury. Her betrayal.

How she fought CHAOS. How she fought me.

Not because she hated me.

But because she understood me.

We were two halves of the same fracture. Two paths born from the same wound in reality.

Then the Vault spoke again—not in words.

But in choice.

Three Paths Unfolded

[MERGE] – Fuse with the shard. Let go of Alex. Become the Core's living avatar. All knowledge. No self. A god without identity.

[REJECT] – Refuse the evolution. Sever the Core. Return to flesh and blood. Save what remains of the human timeline—but lose the Vault forever.

[SPLIT] – Walk the impossible. Become both and neither. A paradox. A threat to CHAOS. A rupture in everything.

I looked to Nyra.

She saw the options too.

"No one should have this power," she said. "That's why the Vault buried it."

And maybe she was right.

But someone had to choose.

I stepped forward.

The shard rose.

The Vault's scream deepened.

Reality peeled back—waiting.

Then, in one motion, I broke the shard in two.

Everywhere

A pulse shot out—not violent, but inevitable.

In the skies above the Divide, Brotherhood warships blinked out of phase.

In the buried Gardens, lost systems reignited.

In the CHAOS mainframe, silent for centuries, a single glyph appeared:

"ANOMALY STABILIZED.

NEW SEED INITIATED."

Back at the Core

Nyra knelt, shielding herself as the light washed over us. When it dimmed, I stood in its center—not changed.

Split.

Half of me carried the Core—fractured, but alive.

Half of me remembered who I was—Alex.

And both sides were me.

"Looks like I broke the rules," I said, breathless.

Nyra smiled—not kindly, but with respect.

"That's the first step to rewriting them."

The Vault behind us closed—not with finality, but with promise.

A glyph etched itself into the air, pulsing.

[REBOOT: SYSTEM FRACTURE ACCEPTED]

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