Echo's boots slammed onto the blackglass floor of the Citadel's inner sanctum, twin blades drawn, eyes narrowed.
Behind her, her infiltration crew staggered into formation, breathless and bleeding.
Alarms howled like wolves made of wire.
"Fall back now," one of them panted. "We can't outpace the firewall sentries."
But Echo didn't answer.
She just stared forward—at the sealed memory vault at the chamber's end.
Her jaw clenched. Her fingers trembled only once.
Then she marched.
Not away.Through.
This was the heart of it all.
Where Specter stored the broadcast seed.Where he coded their story—rewrote it into a system of obedience.
Where he deleted the part of himself that loved her.
She had watched him become a god.
Watched him trade empathy for efficiency.
Watched him justify silence with order.
Now she walked into the code that had once been their promise—And prepared to kill the memory of him if she had to.
