THE WATCHER: REVOLUTION
By Rapwizzy Debaron
Episode 26: The Whisper Vault
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The walls were breathing.
Or maybe it was Jax's own panic, echoing back in rhythms that didn't belong to this world. The tunnel beneath the old rebel outpost was never mapped, never meant to exist. And yet, here they were—him, Alira, and the silence that watched them.
She walked ahead of him, shoulders stiff, movements unnatural. Not from pain… from restraint.
From something holding her back.
> "Alira," Jax murmured, "where are we going?"
She didn't answer. Not with words.
But the walls did.
Ancient glyphs pulsed faintly as she passed—responding to her like veins remembering the blood that once flowed.
> "This place… it's alive," Jax whispered.
> "It's remembering," Alira corrected, her voice a fragile thread of static.
Then they reached it.
The Vault.
A black door with no handle, no lock—just a mirrored surface that rippled like water. Alira placed her palm on it. The Omega code surged through her skin like fire, and the vault hissed open, revealing not weapons…
…but memories.
Rows and rows of glass columns—each one holding a piece of time, a stolen truth.
Jax stepped closer to one.
Inside floated a scene: him as a child, strapped to a chair, screaming. A doctor standing over him. And behind the glass—
His mother.
Alive.
> "This isn't possible," Jax breathed. "They said she died in the first breach."
> "They lied," Alira whispered. "They lied about everything."
She moved past him, to a darker section of the vault.
And there—half-shattered, flickering violently—was a memory that didn't belong to either of them.
A voice called from it.
> "You don't belong here, Jax."
He staggered back. That voice—it was his. But older. Hollow. Twisted by pain.
Alira grabbed his arm. Her touch grounded him.
> "This is where they hide the failed timelines," she said. "The versions of you they couldn't control."
> "How many versions of me are there?" he asked.
> "Too many. And one of them… escaped."
The memory vault began to quake. Lights flashed red. Alarms screamed.
The broken column cracked fully—and out of it spilled a figure.
Tall.
Wearing his face.
But nothing like him.
> "Hello, me," it said with a smile carved in sorrow.
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🩸 To be continued…
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