The drop-ship bay of the Sky Bastion loomed above Aeneas like a ribcage of broken stars. He paced the edges in silence, gaze fixed on the shard still pulsing in his gloved hand. Riven leaned against a deactivated aerial cruiser, her jacket torn, eyes narrowed.
"You've been quiet since the Vault," she said.
"I remembered her," Aeneas murmured. "My sister. Ila. Her mind… it was the first they took when I rebelled. The prototype for memory extraction. And I didn't stop them."
Riven approached slowly, something unreadable flickering behind her sarcasm-less eyes. "You think guilt makes you weaker?"
"No." His fingers curled around the shard. "I think guilt means I'm still human. And that terrifies them."
The chamber door hissed.
In walked Commander Vesk—one of the Council's defectors, wrapped in combat gear from an era officially marked as Never Existed. His face was hardened glass, but his voice carried weight.
"You accessed the forbidden core. You triggered the failsafe. And now the Throne knows you're alive."
Aeneas met his gaze. "Good."
Vesk raised an eyebrow. "You planning to storm it alone?"
"No." Aeneas turned to Riven. "We plan to unwrite it. Data by data. Lie by lie. We take back what they stole, and light a fire they can't erase."
Riven grinned. "Took you long enough to start sounding dangerous."
Above them, the twin stars flared—one flinching, the other bleeding color.
The war had already begun.