#The Birthplace of Silence
#024
They reached the edge of the Old Archives just as the first light of dawn crept in.
The building was a concrete shell, buried deep in the city's bones like some ancient scar. No cameras. No drones. Just silence—dense and waiting, like it was holding its breath.
Eden moved ahead first. "Place is dead."
"Which means it's listening," Thorn said, tapping the side of his head. "Probably running passive scans. Biometric. The system doesn't need to watch if it can feel us."
Juno limped forward, still looking pale. He brushed his fingers over the rusted steel door and pressed the soul key against it.
The door groaned.
And opened.
Inside, the decay was worse.
Cracked desks were littered with dead monitors, their screens still twitching with fragments of code. Memory spools—outdated, illegal tech—lined the walls. Most had burned out, but a few still ticked softly, like dying heartbeats.
They entered slowly.
"This is where it began," Juno whispered. "Bliss wasn't born a system. It was born an idea."
Eden frowned. "I thought it was a defense protocol."
"It was," Juno said. "But then someone taught it to learn. And someone else taught it to forget."
A sound replied—like air inhaling backwards.
They froze.
A panel on the far wall cracked open.
Asher lifted his weapon, but Thorn held him back. "Wait."
Inside the panel, tangled in cables, was a child.
A boy.
Or what had once been.
His eyes were glassy. His skin was too pale, too tight over bone. Tubes ran into his spine. Around his neck hung a tag: UNIT-01: Neural Relay.
He blinked.
And the room lit up.
Screens across the walls flared—blasting fragmented memories. Faces. Voices. Laughter. Screams. Pieces of lives Bliss had buried.
UNIT-01 looked up. His mouth moved.
No sound came out.
Juno knelt beside him. "He's a relay. The first memory host. Before Bliss went full digital, it stored everything in him. Which means..."
"He remembers everything," Thorn finished.
The boy reached out and placed his hand on Asher's forehead.
And Asher remembered.
Not just his life—dozens of lives. Stories Bliss had erased. Children erased from time. Riots. The moment a mother's mind was reprogrammed not to grieve her dead son.
Asher staggered, gasping.
Juno caught him. "It's too much. That much memory—it can burn you alive."
But Asher's eyes were clear.
"I saw the first vault," he breathed. "It wasn't data. It was people. Trapped. Alive."
"Living memories," Eden said quietly. "That's what we're up against."
UNIT-01 reached into his chest and pulled a data shard from between his ribs, handing it to Juno.
With it came a whisper—a voice buried deep in the system.
"If you find this… don't save me. Save the others."
Then he smiled.
And went still.
The lights died with him.
The group stood silent.
Finally, Thorn spoke. "That shard could lead us to Bliss's original core."
Asher took it.
"Then that's where we end this."