#Static Dreams
#025
The silence after UNIT-01 died didn't feel calm.
It rang in their ears—sharp and piercing, like static tangled in their bones.
Asher held the shard tightly. It throbbed in his hand, irregular and warm, like a panicked heartbeat.
"What's on it?" Eden asked.
Juno took the shard. His fingers trembled as he slid it into his soul key. The key hissed—then screamed. Red pulses surged through the etched lines. He clenched his jaw.
"It's encrypted," he said through gritted teeth. "Old code. Before Bliss."
Thorn's eyebrows rose. "Before Bliss? That's not just rare—that's banned."
Juno didn't answer. His eyes closed, lips murmuring as if recalling some long-lost prayer. Then—
The key erupted with static.
Not noise—images. A surge of them. The group stumbled back as the broken monitors around them came to life.
They saw a man dressed in white, standing in front of a wall blinking with light.
His voice cut through the storm—cracked, raw:
"If you're seeing this, the relay has failed. Which means… Bliss is winning. Again."
Asher squinted. "Who is that?"
Juno's voice was quiet. "The architect. He built the soul network. Created the first Bliss systems to protect memory. But something twisted."
On the screen, the man turned. His eyes were hollow and wide.
"You think destroying it will fix this. It won't. Bliss isn't a system anymore. It's a god. Not one of mercy. One of silence."
Static swallowed the screen.
Then a final line broke through—sharp and cold:
"The first vault was only a test. The real prison is beneath the sea."
The screen shattered.
Silence returned.
Asher looked to Juno. "The sea?"
Juno nodded slowly. "There's a submerged zone—flooded after the rebellion. No one goes there. Not even drones. Too much interference."
"Or too much truth," Thorn said under his breath.
Eden was already shouldering her pack. "Then that's where we go."
As they got ready, UNIT-01's body clicked.
His mouth opened.
A single, rasping word escaped—metallic and lifeless:
"Run."
The walls flared red.
System breach.
Dozens of sealed doors slid open as Bliss activated its kill-switches—turning the Archive into a trap.
No drones. No guards.
Just raw data.
And fire.
Files burst into flames like paper—blue fire eating through code as systems deleted themselves. Thorn swore. "It's burning everything!"
They ran.
The building screamed around them, its memories collapsing as they dashed through hallways crumbling under the weight of buried truths.
Eden led them through a sagging air shaft. Juno, still bleeding, stumbled. Asher caught him.
"You alright?"
Juno nodded. "He gave us the truth. That's what matters."
They burst out into the open air.
Behind them, the Archive imploded—its core gone forever.
But just before it died, the monitors gave one last flash.
A map.
One glowing point.
Beneath the sea.
.