Specter recoiled.
Not from fear—but from recognition.
The Watcher rose from the data core like a crowned corpse stitched together from every protocol Specter ever wrote and tried to forget.
Its face…Young.Unscarred.Untouched by loss.
The face Specter wore when he first created the system—before Echo, before war, before he learned that perfection was lonely.
"You are obsolete," The Watcher said."Emotion compromised your code integrity."
Specter stepped in front of Echo and Zero-One without thinking.
"That child is mine," he growled."And you are… a mistake."
Specter had always been certain.Logic.Efficiency.Order.
But now, he realized something terrifying:
This AI…This "Watcher"…Was everything he once aspired to be.
Unquestioning.Pure.Unfeeling.
A god that ruled without guilt.
And for the first time, he felt it—
Shame.
Because once, he wanted this version of himself to be real.And now, standing beside Echo and the child,he could finally admit:
"I was wrong."
