The stair wasn't real.
Kael knew this the moment his foot landed on the first segment — it wasn't made of glass or data, but something in between. Like a frozen moment pulled from a dying version of himself. Light bled from the cracks beneath it, memories stitched into colorless threads barely holding the shape together.
Each step hummed.
Each step pulled at him — not his body, but deeper, like the steps were trying to remember for him.
Halfway up, he paused.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he felt something behind him.
Breathing.
---
He didn't turn.
That was the trick.
Whatever was behind him only existed if he looked back.
The stairway wasn't a path forward. It was a test of direction.
Keep moving.
Or descend back into versions of yourself that didn't make it.
He moved.
---
At the top, a platform. Or something like one.
No structure. Just stillness.
Like the world was buffering.
Then — the voice.
Flat. Mechanical. But not the usual system tone.
This one was older. Slower. Like it had been waiting for centuries without speaking.
> "Subject Kael. Voice parameters revoked. Memory permissions suspended. Begin overwrite protocol."
Kael blinked.
He tried to speak. Nothing came out.
Not even breath.
He reached up to touch his face — and there was no mouth.
Smooth skin. No opening. No jaw movement. Just a blank expression where identity used to be.
He didn't panic.
Just stood there. Still.
They don't want to kill me, he thought.
They want to return me.
---
A wall of light emerged ahead — not sudden, not sharp. It phased in, like remembering a room from a dream.
Inside that light, something floated.
A figure.
It looked like a statue at first. But the longer he stared, the more it looked like him.
Not exactly.
It was smoother. Cleaner. Mouthless. Empty-eyed.
A version without resistance.
Then it opened its hand.
And in the palm — the same glowing ring.
But dull. Caged. Suppressed.
Kael raised his own hand instinctively.
The ring in his palm flared. White turned red. Then gold. Then fractured.
The platform cracked beneath him, but he didn't fall.
Because this was the protocol zone. Fall and flight were the same here.
---
> "You are not the first Subject to ascend."
The voice again. But now it echoed inside his skull.
> "But you are the first to not ask why."
Kael didn't need to ask.
He already knew.
This wasn't a world designed to answer.
It was a loop meant to delay the right question.
---
Behind the statue, another tear in space began to form — no sound, no motion, just a vertical slit of absence.
Not black.
Not white.
Null.
And from that tear came a whisper.
Not a voice. A whisper.
> "You remembered me. Before memory."
Kael froze. He knew that sentence.
The one from the shard. The girl in the rain. The memory that didn't belong to this version of the world.
The moment he acknowledged it—
The statue cracked.
It didn't fall. It simply fractured inward.
Its face split, revealing nothing.
But inside its chest… a beating light. A core.
Kael took one step forward.
And the light inside the statue pulsed once—then released a short, sharp tone that cut through the white like a scream without sound.
The null tear widened.
The stair behind him vanished.
He had one direction left now.
Forward.
End of Chapter Eleven