They emerged from the corridor, breathless, sweat clinging to their skin despite the Vault's chill. The fractured had stopped pursuing-for now-but the presence of memory instability still coiled behind them like smoke.
Lira knelt beside a rusted access panel embedded in the wall. She pried it open with a short blade and whispered a string of activation glyphs. The panel shimmered, then projected a soft golden interface-ancient tech buried beneath modern seals.
Kael looked around the chamber they'd entered. Wide. High ceilings. Storage once, now abandoned. Vault runes faded along the stone.
"What is this place?" he asked.
"An old pulse relay chamber," Lira replied. "Used to send memory signatures between districts—before the Houses centralized control."
Corren stepped closer, scanning the flickering interface. "You're tapping a rebellion node."
Lira didn't deny it.
"I've been sending scraps of data for weeks. Fragmented. Encrypted. Hoping someone still listens."
She pressed a final glyph.
The relay flared once—then returned a single phrase.
"Signal received."
A new voice echoed into the room. Rough. Tired.
"Identify yourself."
Lira's eyes widened.
"Vault-breaker cell? This is Lira Caelen, House technician. I'm not under Mnemonic command."
Static buzzed. Then a quiet chuckle.
"Caelen, huh? Never thought I'd hear that name used without spitting."
Lira didn't flinch. "You have reinforcements?"
"No. We have survivors. Not the same thing."
Kael leaned toward the interface.
"My name is Kael. I've accessed the Core Vault. I remember."
Silence.
Then:
"...Then we know who you are."
The voice dropped lower. "And we'll follow—if you don't flinch."
Lira met Kael's eyes.
"You have followers now," she said.
Kael didn't smile.
"I didn't ask for them."
"You don't have to," Corren muttered. "They've already chosen."