I'd thought the Whisper Core was dangerous before.
But after the glass corridor, after what I saw in the reflection that wasn't mine, I understood something ugly—this thing inside me didn't just want to grow.
It wanted to eat.
And it didn't care what.
[Core Status: 100% Sync Achieved.]
[Prototype Restrictions Lifted.]
[Full Directive Mode Unlocked.]
The words didn't come from the system. They came from inside my head—like someone leaning in close, lips almost touching my ear.
Are you ready to use me, Riven Kael?
My knees felt weak, but I didn't stop walking.
We'd entered a new section of the labyrinth—one that didn't feel built, but grown. Walls of pale stone pulsed faintly like skin. The ceiling dripped with slow rivulets of black water that hissed when they hit the floor.
Aiko kept her dagger drawn. "This is Phase Three. The Labyrinth of Forgotten Names."
"Forgotten by who?" I asked.
"By everyone." She glanced at me. "And that's the point. If it's forgotten, it can be erased. If it's erased… it's easier to replace."
The Core pulsed again. Replace with what? I almost asked.
But I already knew the answer.
We reached a wide chamber.
Thirteen doors. All unmarked. All humming with something just beyond hearing—like a breath you can't tell is your own.
[Trial Directive: Select a Door.]
[Warning: Selection is Permanent.]
I stepped forward, and the Core reacted. My vision fractured into static-laced overlays, each door flashing glimpses of a life that wasn't mine—
—me as a Union Guild general.
—me as a corpse in the streets of Osaka.
—me holding a child with silver hair and eyes like broken moons.
The Core whispered again, slow and deliberate.
One of these is yours. The rest are theirs.
Do you want to keep it?
I clenched my jaw. "And if I choose wrong?"
The voice in my head chuckled.
Then you'll be someone else when you leave here.
Aiko looked at me sharply. "Don't listen to it. Pick fast. The Shepherd will find us here."
Something moved in the shadows between the doors.
Tall. Thin. Head tilted at a broken angle. Its body was wrong in the same way a sentence is wrong when you change just one word.
And it was coming closer.
The Core throbbed inside my chest, eager.
A door, Riven. Before it feeds on your name.
The thing stepped into the dim light.
It wore robes like a priest's, except they clung wet to its body, dripping that same black water from the ceiling. Its face was blank—no eyes, no mouth—just smooth flesh stretching where features should be.
Yet I still felt it staring.
No… searching.
Aiko's voice was barely above a whisper. "That's the Shepherd. It tends this place… makes sure the wrong names never leave."
My fingers twitched toward my weapon. "What happens if it touches you?"
"You stop being you."
The Shepherd tilted its head, and the air turned heavy.
A pulse hit my skull—sharp, invasive—like hands rifling through my memories. Flashes of my brother, my mother, Osaka burning, my father's last breath—
The Core growled in my mind.
Not yours to take.
I stumbled, vision glitching between the doors and the creature, every frame smeared in static. The Core's influence bled into my limbs, urging me forward.
The Shepherd moved. Not walked. One moment it was ten steps away, the next its featureless face was inches from mine.
Black fingers reached for my throat.
[Warning: Name Integrity at 74%]
[Corruption Threshold Approaching.]
Aiko lunged, blade slashing across its chest—but the wound didn't bleed. It remembered bleeding instead, and then forgot that too. The gash closed as if it had never happened.
The Core's voice was urgent now.
A door, Riven. Or I will choose for you.
The Shepherd's hand closed around my collarbone—cold, sinking through skin like smoke. My vision warped again, this time sharper—
Door Three: me standing in a cathedral, crown in hand.
Door Nine: me lying in an unmarked grave.
Door Eleven: me walking beside someone in a crimson cloak, both of us smiling at something burning behind us.
The pain was white-hot now. My own name echoed in my ears, syllables slipping away like sand.
I didn't have time to think. I slammed my hand against a door.
It flared open with a sound like tearing paper—
—and the world snapped.
I hit the ground hard.
No, not ground—water.
It came up to my knees, black and still, reflecting nothing. Above me, no ceiling. Just a sky that looked like it had been erased.
The door was gone. So was Aiko.
I turned—
The Shepherd was halfway through the tear, its featureless head pushing into my new reality.
The Core snarled in my skull.
It cannot cross freely. You've chosen a place it fears.
"Yeah?" I muttered, wiping water from my face. "Then why is it still coming?"
The Shepherd's body shivered—like its form couldn't decide whether it was solid or smoke. That black water in its robes bled into the lake beneath me, rippling outward like ink veins.
[Name Integrity at 69%]
[Stabilization Recommended.]
The Core hissed again, but softer now, almost like it was… listening to something else.
In the distance, a faint hum. No—chanting. Dozens of voices, all speaking a language that felt too old for my bones.
The Shepherd stopped at the edge of the tear. Its head tilted once, twice—then it stepped back. The rift sealed shut, the sound vanishing like a cut radio signal.
I was alone.
…Until the water in front of me rose into the shape of a person.
A figure in a crimson cloak.
The hood tilted toward me, and beneath it… nothing. Just a faint red glow where a face should be.
It spoke without sound. The words slid into my mind like a knife through silk:
"Welcome, Whisper Core. We've been waiting for you."