They Erased My Name from History — Now I Burn Their World
Chapter Six: The First Lie
The cube opens with blood.
My blood.
It doesn't need a password, or a code, or even a key. Just a drop from my palm — the same hand they tried to erase. The moment it touches the cube's surface, the lights bloom, and reality folds in on itself.
Kade stands behind me, weapon drawn, scanning for movement in the dark. We're safe for now — holed up in a forgotten maintenance hub, five floors beneath the Skywalks. The Dominion doesn't scan this deep anymore. They think there's nothing left alive down here.
They're wrong.
The cube begins to hum — not a mechanical sound, but something older. Something deeper.
A voice rises from within. Soft, layered. Like dozens of speakers talking in harmony. It's not a recording. It's not AI.
It's conscious.
"Black Archive 01 — unlocked.
Verification confirmed: Bloodline Xedrin.
Accessing Core Memory Bank: Operation Seedfall."
The air around us shifts.
And suddenly, we're not in the room anymore.
We're inside the Archive.
Light bends into shape. Walls dissolve. Time becomes illusion. We stand in a reconstructed memory — not a hologram, but a living scene. Crisp. Hyperreal. We're in a room I've never seen, but my bones remember it.
White walls. No windows. People in lab coats. Screens streaming DNA sequences, neural maps, weapon prototypes — and behind it all, a massive Dominion emblem: older, unpolished. Less god. More machine.
This is before the Dominion became divine.
And then, I see it:
A name on the screen.
Project: SEEDFALL
Lead Geneticist: Dr. Auren Xedrin.
I go still.
"Kade…" I whisper. "That's our bloodline."
He's just staring.
"They weren't afraid of us because we resisted," I say slowly. "They were afraid of us because they created us."
The voice inside the Archive continues:
"Project SEEDFALL — an experiment in synthetic evolution.
Genetically engineered minds designed to resist memory corruption,
misinformation encoding, and historical overwrite systems."
"Intended to test resistance thresholds to Dominion control signals.
Result: Subject Line Xedrin exceeded containment parameters.
Protocol Zero initiated. All Xedrin records deleted. Bloodline marked for erasure."
My knees almost give out.
We weren't just rebels.
We were designed to rebel.
Lab-grown dissent. Engineered resistance. We were created by the Dominion itself… and then hunted when we became too strong to cage.
"They made us," I say. "Then erased us when we wouldn't bend."
Kade clenches his jaw. "And the rest of the world never knew."
I turn to him. "Until now."
The memory dissolves, and we're back in the dark. The cube dims — for now — but it's still pulsing, still full of more. There are hundreds of files inside. Thousands. Each one a nail in the Dominion's coffin.
Above us, the city screams louder. Riots. Fires. Sirens. The virus is still working, peeling away the layers of control. My words are spreading. My message has become a weapon.
But this? This is the bomb.
"We leak it all," I say. "Unfiltered. Raw. Every lie. Every erased name. Every secret war. We let the people see what they've been living in."
Kade nods.
"Then we give them something to live for."
A sound echoes in the distance — metallic feet on steel.
The Dominion is closing in.
They know we've opened the Archive. They'll send their best. Not Ghosthunters. Not Cleaners.
Pale Choir.
I've heard the name in whispers. Dominion operatives who don't speak. Who don't breathe. Who don't stop. Not until the world forgets you ever existed.
But this time?
This time, I don't run.
I take the cube. I sling it over my shoulder. I ignite the signal beacon Kade gave me — coded, scrambled, built to find only the ones who remember the old songs. The ones who were erased but never truly gone.
The forgotten are waking up.
The ghosts are coming home.
And the Dominion?
They're about to learn the first truth they tried to bury:
You can't erase fire.
To be continued...