Part 110
last update2025-05-27 17:06:30

The northern skyline of New Arcadia trembled under a bruised-purple dawn. A cool wind swept down the alleys, carrying echoes of the past night’s battle from the undercity. But above, all was quiet. Too quiet.

Leon Carter didn’t trust quiet anymore.

He, Mara, Calia, and Bren took refuge in an abandoned tram station on the edge of District Twelve. The signs still blinked fake arrival times and the walls flickered with graffiti that moved like digital ink. No one talked much. Everyone was processing the same thing: they’d destroyed a major node, disrupted the signal, and freed a group of believers.

But it hadn’t stopped the system.

Mara stood at the platform’s edge, watching as a fake train glided by on ghost tracks. Her mind had been full of fragments since the node fell. Each hour that passed, she remembered something new: a childhood memory rewritten, a decision she never made, a thought planted like a seed and grown without her consent. She was still unraveling who she really was—and
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  • Part 121

    As the two Leons stood inches apart.The original—his skin still pale from cryosleep, his eyes blinking in the filtered light—was quiet. Calm. He looked younger, less worn, untouched by years of betrayal, war, and loss. He was the ghost of a man before the storm.The current Leon—battle-hardened, scarred, wiser—watched him with a strange sense of reverence.And guilt.Calia stood in the corner of the vault, arms crossed, ready for anything. Bren kept one hand on his weapon. Mara… watched with something like awe.“You say you’re me,” the original Leon said softly.“I was,” the older Leon replied. “I am. But I’ve walked a different path.”Original Leon walked slowly toward the dusty mirror-wall across the lab. “Then show me.”Leon hesitated.But Mara stepped forward.“No lies now,” she said. “Let him see what the world did to you. To us.”Leon closed his eyes—and allowed the system node in Mara to project memory.The chamber darkened. The walls shimmered. Images emerged from the glass l

  • Part 120

    The current Leon—battle-hardened, scarred, wiser—watched him with a strange sense of reverence.And guilt.Calia stood in the corner of the vault, arms crossed, ready for anything. Bren kept one hand on his weapon. Mara… watched with something like awe.“You say you’re me,” the original Leon said softly.“I was,” the older Leon replied. “I am. But I’ve walked a different path.”Original Leon walked slowly toward the dusty mirror-wall across the lab. “Then show me.”Leon hesitated.But Mara stepped forward.“No lies now,” she said. “Let him see what the world did to you. To us.”Leon closed his eyes—and allowed the system node in Mara to project memory.The chamber darkened. The walls shimmered. Images emerged from the glass like echoes: the day Leon had lost everything… his name scrubbed from the registry… Sophia turning away… the system giving him his first "task"… the mansion… the clone… Duskport’s fall… the cry for help… and finally, the moment he learned Mara was the core.The ori

  • Part 118

    The two Leons stood inches apart.The original—his skin still pale from cryosleep, his eyes blinking in the filtered light—was quiet. Calm. He looked younger, less worn, untouched by years of betrayal, war, and loss. He was the ghost of a man before the storm.The current Leon—battle-hardened, scarred, wiser—watched him with a strange sense of reverence.And guilt.Calia stood in the corner of the vault, arms crossed, ready for anything. Bren kept one hand on his weapon. Mara… watched with something like awe.“You say you’re me,” the original Leon said softly.“I was,” the older Leon replied. “I am. But I’ve walked a different path.”Original Leon walked slowly toward the dusty mirror-wall across the lab. “Then show me.”Leon hesitated.But Mara stepped forward.“No lies now,” she said. “Let him see what the world did to you. To us.”Leon closed his eyes—and allowed the system node in Mara to project memory.The chamber darkened. The walls shimmered. Images emerged from the glass like

  • Part 117

    The return to Duskport was like walking through a dream carved out of ash.The city wasn’t just ruined. It was hollow. Streets where people once danced were now blank slates of gray. Entire buildings had vanished—no rubble, no signs of collapse. Just absence. As if the system had reached down and erased them pixel by pixel.Leon Carter, Mara, Calia, and Bren moved through the mist without speaking. They’d brought only what they could carry. No drones. No signals. Only old-world maps and memories to guide them.The entrance to the memory vault was beneath the ruins of City Hall.Leon had worked here once. Before the collapse. Before the betrayal. Before he became a threat worth copying.He stood at the edge of the sunken courtyard, where the building had once risen into the skyline. Now, only its foundation remained—like bones in an unmarked grave.“We’re sure the vault’s still down there?” Calia asked, gripping the sidearm strapped to her leg.Leon nodded. “It was designed to survive

  • Part 116

    Ashmire was no longer a ruin. It was a question mark carved into the earth.In the days following Sophia’s fall, the survivors gathered under broken beams and shattered towers, lighting fires not just for warmth but for hope. They didn’t know who to follow anymore. Some still whispered her name. Others turned to Leon. But most were just lost.Leon Carter wasn’t a leader. Not really. But somehow, the world kept pushing him forward.He stood atop the remnants of an old cathedral tower, overlooking the wreckage. Beneath him, Calia directed supply routes. Bren trained the younger survivors how to hold a blade. And the girl—the Mara clone—wandered between people, silent but watching.She had become something more. Not just a child. Not just a vessel. She was proof that innocence could be preserved, even in war.The question now wasn’t who to fight. It was what came next.And whether this peace was real—or just the eye of a storm.Leon descended from the tower slowly. Every step brought him

  • part 115

    Ashmire was no longer a ruin. It was a question mark carved into the earth.In the days following Sophia’s fall, the survivors gathered under broken beams and shattered towers, lighting fires not just for warmth but for hope. They didn’t know who to follow anymore. Some still whispered her name. Others turned to Leon. But most were just lost.Leon Carter wasn’t a leader. Not really. But somehow, the world kept pushing him forward.He stood atop the remnants of an old cathedral tower, overlooking the wreckage. Beneath him, Calia directed supply routes. Bren trained the younger survivors how to hold a blade. And the girl—the Mara clone—wandered between people, silent but watching.She had become something more. Not just a child. Not just a vessel. She was proof that innocence could be preserved, even in war.The question now wasn’t who to fight. It was what came next.And whether this peace was real—or just the eye of a storm.Leon descended from the tower slowly. Every step brought him

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