Adrian awoke to birdsong.
Not an alarm. Not a synthetic chime. Not a Ministry choral file named "WakeRoutine_3b.wav."
Just birds. Unscheduled, unregulated, and… alive.
His body was still learning what it meant to wake without panic.
The room was small. A guest hut, Rhea had explained. Straw roof. Stone walls. A cot that creaked with honesty. There were no surveillance nodes, no biometric scanners embedded in the walls. Just air and time.
And a journal.
[Happiness Journal Notification]
Yesterday's smile logged.
Would you like to reflect?
Adrian opened the page. A blank space waited.
He didn't type.
He wrote.
I forgot that silence could be kind.
That presence isn't a performance.
Yesterday, someone smiled not because I earned it — but because I didn't demand it.
I think that counts.
He closed the journal. The system pulsed gently.
[Emotional Calibration +2%]
[You are becoming someone worth remembering.]
Outside, the village was waking. Rhea was already at the well, her sleeves rolled up, drawing water with practiced motion. She saw him, nodded once, and kept working.
Adrian didn't wave.
He just stood for a moment, letting himself feel the stillness. The way the wind smelled like pine and morning. The way his chest didn't hurt the way it used to.
[New Karma Quest Available]
Mission: "Recover a Lost Memory"
Location Unlocked: The Orchard of Echoes
Pain buried is not pain healed. Go to where the villagers forget what they once loved.
Dig carefully.
Reward: Emotion Unlock – Longing
Difficulty: Moderate (Internal Resistance Expected)
He blinked.
This quest wasn't about helping others.
It was about facing himself.
Rhea watched him read the prompt.
"You're going to the orchard, aren't you?" she said, tying a braid behind her ear.
"You know it?"
She nodded. "It's where people forget things. On purpose."
"That's… strategic," he said.
"It's sad," she replied. "But sometimes it's safer to lose what hurts than remember what heals."
He paused. "Will you come?"
Rhea hesitated.
Then nodded.
The Orchard of Echoes sat on a low hill just beyond the village, bordered by a bent iron gate that didn't close anymore. The trees were strange — tall, wild-limbed things that seemed to lean in as you passed, like they were listening.
Some bore fruit. Others didn't. Some whispered. Others stayed silent.
But all of them hummed with memory.
[System Interface Active – Memory Field Detected]
This space is charged with residual emotional energy. Memory may manifest physically. Prepare for psychological bleed-through.
Adrian took a breath.
He hadn't prepared anything.
He only brought himself.
For once, that would have to be enough.
They walked in silence, Rhea a few steps behind. She didn't speak, didn't interrupt. She just watched.
Adrian reached the center of the orchard — a clearing with a single white bench. He sat.
And the world changed.
The light bent. The air slowed. A soft vibration ran under the soil like a heartbeat.
And before him appeared a flickering image — half-hologram, half-memory.
A boy, maybe ten. Thin. Shivering. Kneeling beside a dying houseplant in a sunless apartment.
Adrian stared.
He knew this memory.
He hadn't thought of it in decades.
The boy was him.
"I named it Lumen," the boy whispered, stroking a single green leaf. "It's the only bright thing I have."
A voice shouted from another room. Cold. Functional. "Stop wasting time. Plants don't feel. Report to your learning station."
The memory froze.
Adrian stood slowly.
Rhea's hand touched his sleeve — not to stop him, just to say I'm here.
"Can I talk to it?" he asked.
[Memory Reconstruction Protocol Enabled]
Speak. Listen. Heal.
He knelt beside the echo of his childhood.
"I forgot you existed," he whispered.
The boy didn't look up.
"I thought forgetting made me stronger. That if I deleted enough of you, I'd be safe."
The boy stroked the plant again. It looked like it might cry. If plants could cry.
"I don't want to optimize anymore," Adrian said. "I want to feel. Even if it hurts."
And then he did something the boy never expected.
He hugged him.
The memory trembled.
Then dissolved.
[Memory Reclaimed: "The Boy and the Plant"]
Emotion Unlocked: Longing
Longing is not weakness. It is proof you once loved something enough to miss it.
+200 Joy Points
Skill Tree Branch Unlocked: Restoration
Adrian stood slowly.
The orchard no longer whispered.
It sang.
Rhea looked at him like she understood more than he said.
"Did you find what you needed?" she asked.
"No," he said honestly. "But I found something I didn't know I'd lost."
And for the first time, he didn't feel ashamed of that.
They walked back to the village in silence.
And the wind behind them carried a new smell.
Like leaves turning.
Like seasons changing.
Like something that had been dead… starting to grow again.
[Happiness Journal Entry #2 Created]
Today I remembered who I used to be.
Not to punish myself. Just to welcome him back.
He missed me.
– A.V.
End of Chapter 4