Pain lanced through Rotham's skull as the neural link surged online. The Memory Code flared—its countless voices crying out in dissonant harmony, struggling to remain intact. The Eye's influence was digging deeper, corrupting data, rewriting pasts, blurring the line between what was and what was never meant to be.
"Anchor Protocol... initializing," the terminal droned, flickering violently.
Selin's fractured projection hovered at his side, barely recognizable.
"You need to stabilize the foundational thread—your identity. Without it, everything else falls."
The anchor was more than a security measure.
It was Rotham himself.
His original thoughts, beliefs, memories—the pure, untouched pattern of his consciousness from before he ever encountered the Core.
And it was buried deep.
He reached inward.
Buried under years of fragmentary overlays and the noise of thousands of other lives, he felt it: a pulse. A familiar rhythm. A memory untouched by corruption.
A broken telescope on his childhood rooftop.Cold nights.Stars that didn't blink.A dream of finding something no one else could.
That was Rotham.
"Anchor acquired," the system confirmed.
The station shuddered violently as the Eye resisted. The infection twisted the hallways around him — making doors lead to impossible rooms, memories collapsing and reconstructing at will. Time began to fracture.
But Rotham stood tall.
"Run memory lock sequence," he ordered. "Layer by layer."
As the system obeyed, he began reciting aloud fragments of personal memory. His voice cut through the chaos, anchoring reality:
"My name is Rotham Iralis. I was born on Delphi-3. I saw the Andromeda arc before my father died. I remember my sister's laugh. I remember—Selin—before the station."
Each truth spoken pulled another corrupted layer back into order. The Code began to stabilize. Glitches slowed.
The lights steadied.
And then...
The Eye blinked again.
A low, rumbling voice echoed—not from the walls, but from inside Rotham's thoughts:
"Anchors delay nothing. They just make the fall harder."
Suddenly, the interface blacked out.
Selin's form froze, eyes wide.
"It's coming for you directly now."
"Let it," Rotham growled, turning toward the Core.
"I'm done being its vessel."