The tremor rolled through the ruin.
Stone plates buckled under pressure, dust lifted from every crevice, and a pulse rippled through the trench like a static wave searching for recognition.
Nahr stilled.
The signal didn't match any training simulation.
It wasn't environmental distortion.
It was something else.
A Shatter Pulse.
Signal-stamped aggression from a fractured Core — the kind of trigger only born when a mimic fails to fully replicatewhatit's trying to become.
He moved without thinking, dropping low behind a split pillar of vault bone. His Galieya detached from his back in a single, fluid motion.
A Core-shaped silhouette surged into view.
Too tall.
Too wide at the shoulders.
It had plating — but not armor.
The plating shifted, peeled, then resealed — trying to decide what form it wanted to copy.
It had once been a Station-Bearer, like Nahr.
Now it was unsorted — broken halfway between roles.
Its Galieya dragged behind it, warped into a crescent hook.
Mimic-Class Core. Tier-2 Collapse.
Signal glitching.
Intent volatile.
And it had seen him.
The mimic charged.
Not a run — a fall-forward lurch.
Its legs clattered beneath it, joints firing out of rhythm.
But it was fast.
Nahr brought his Galieya to stance — side-forward, base to his hip, point low.
No flourish.
No chant.
Just form.
The mimic slammed into the stone beside him.
Missed.
Stone fractured upward like a snapped bone.
Dust sprayed through the trench.
Nahr advanced one step.
Drove the Galieya forward with a single heave.
Caught the mimic in its side — deep.
Steel shrieked.
Sparks spilled.
But the mimic didn't falter.
It rotated — torso spinning too far, too fast.
Its hook-lance came around.
Caught Nahr's side plating.
Tore a strip from his rib casing.
He staggered.
Counter-rotated.
Slid his Galieya free and pivoted low.
Brought the spiral fang upward — into the mimic's chest.
This time, it bit.
The mimic jerked.
Tried to mimic a scream.
But Cores didn't scream.
It glitched instead — soundlessly, violently.
Its fingers split and reshaped.
One arm elongated mid-motion.
Another fell off entirely.
Nahr adjusted grip.
Reversed stance.
He let go of the Galieya with one hand and drove a flat strike into the mimic's joint port.
It staggered back.
His lance tore free again — trailing static.
A moment of silence.
Then the trench split.
Not wide — just a fracture line.
Stone gave.
Ash burst upward in a bloom.
And another mimic stepped through.
This one was smaller.
Incomplete.
It had no faceplate at all — just a hollow cavity where a designation should've been engraved.
It shivered.
Then darted forward.
Nahr had no time to think.
He dropped his stance into a split-line posture.
Caught the smaller mimic at the shoulder.
It spun on contact — limp but fast.
Grabbed his arm.
Locked.
Tried to sync with him — to overwrite.
A system prompt flickered into his field:
[External Sync Attempt Detected.]
[Attribute Trigger: False Echo Residue.]
[Warning: Identity distortion possible.]
The mimic's grip tightened.
Its chassis was flickering now — trying to replicate Nahr'sshell pattern, line for line.
Trying to become him.
He had seconds.
Maybe less.
He dropped his Galieya.
Clamped both hands around the mimic's spine-core.
Forced it downward.
His leg came up.
Pressed against the back of its baseplate.
He pulled and kicked at the same time.
The spine disconnected.
A sharp crack echoed through the ruin.
The mimic convulsed once.
Then went still.
Nahr stood motionless.
Ash falling like dead data around him.
The larger mimic was gone — collapsed into a puddle of parts, dissolving with corrupted grace.
The trench was silent again.
Until his system flared:
[Threat neutralized.]
[Mimic-Class Core dismantled.]
[Configuration Response: Calibrating...]
[False Echo Residue: Imprint Stability Worsening.]
He didn't know what that last line meant.
But the silence felt heavier now.
The trial wasn't done.
The trench wasn't empty.
And his burden — still false in part — was beginning to bleed into the things that watched him from beyond the breakline.
The world hadn't rewarded him.
It had only acknowledged that he hadn't broken.
Not yet.
He retrieved the Galieya.
Set the spiral tip against the stone.
Let the weight settle into him again.
Then stepped forward, toward the darker cut of the trench ahead.
It was time to descend again.
And this time, whatever came would not try to copy him.
It would try to end him.