The descent felt endless.
The shaft spiraled downward through layers of metal and stone, deeper than any Dominion structure they had seen before. Red emergency lights blinked intermittently along the walls, casting ghostly flashes over Reiji and Kaede as they slid down the steel ladder. Each pulse illuminated the smoke drifting from Reiji's wounds, the faint shimmer of oil and blood mixing on his gloves.
The air was thicker here — heavy with the smell of rust and something else beneath it. Something old.
Kaede looked down, her voice barely a whisper.
> "Reiji… how far do you think it goes?"
"Far enough," he answered. "Until there's nothing left to remember."
When their boots hit the bottom, the sound echoed unnaturally — a hollow resonance that seemed to repeat itself, growing fainter but never ending. They were standing on a massive circular platform, suspended by iron chains. Beneath them, darkness stretched infinitely.
Kaede aimed her light toward the void.
The beam was swallowed instantly.
> "It's like the dark itself is alive," she murmured.
Reiji knelt, brushing his fingers against the floor. The metal was cold, yet faint vibrations ran through it — like a pulse. The forge above had been mechanical, but this… this was something deeper. Something organic in its rhythm.
Then he saw it: a line of markings etched across the platform, faint but deliberate. Symbols of the Dominion, overlapping older, forgotten sigils.
> "These marks," Reiji said, tracing one with his finger. "They're not Dominion-made. They're older — from the Shadow Era."
Kaede frowned.
> "You mean before the Dominion rose?"
"Before they needed to rise," Reiji replied. "This place wasn't built to create. It was built to seal."
A sudden tremor ran through the platform, followed by a low hum from the void below. A section of the floor slid open, revealing a vast chamber beneath — circular, lined with pillars of black glass. Inside each pillar floated silhouettes of human forms, suspended in pale liquid. Their eyes were closed. Their chests moved faintly.
Kaede stepped closer, horrified.
> "They're alive…"
"No," Reiji said quietly. "They're remembered."
Each body bore the marks of those who had fallen in the Shadow Wars — the warriors, commanders, even civilians. Their memories, their voices, their pain… all stored, digitized, looped endlessly into data cores.
This was the heart of the Dominion's power: a world built on the consciousness of the dead.
Reiji's hand trembled slightly as he pressed it against one of the glass pillars. The figure inside — a woman with long silver hair — opened her eyes.
And whispered his name.
> "...Reiji…"
He staggered back.
Kaede rushed to his side, weapon raised.
> "Who was that?"
"Not who," Reiji muttered, his voice hollow. "What. They've been using memory echoes. Every soldier who ever made a vow — every oath sworn to protect something — they twisted it into their code."
The hum grew louder, vibrating through their bones. The pillars began to glow, and one by one, the figures within opened their eyes.
Voices filled the air — whispers, screams, pleas for forgiveness.
> "You left us."
"We followed your command."
"You said no one would be forgotten…"
Reiji clutched his head as the sound flooded his mind.
He could feel their thoughts, their grief. The Dominion hadn't just taken their memories — they'd replicated their souls into an endless cycle of loyalty and pain.
Kaede fired a round into one of the pillars. The glass shattered, spilling liquid across the floor. The voice stopped instantly. But the others screamed louder.
> "You can't silence them all," Reiji said, forcing his voice through the chaos.
"Then what do we do?"
"We finish the oath they couldn't."
He staggered toward the central console, an ancient machine covered in layers of Dominion interfaces. Beneath the holographic code, he could see the original inscriptions — the language of the Shadows. His old world.
Reiji placed his palm on the scanner. The system hesitated, then accepted him.
> "Identity confirmed," the voice of the system echoed. "Shinomiya Reiji. Shadow Commander. Access granted."
Kaede froze.
> "Wait. Commander? You were—"
"Not anymore," he cut her off. "Not since the Oath broke."
The floor shifted again. Massive conduits rose around them, locking into place. Energy surged upward through the pillars, linking them together in a spiral of blinding light. At the center, a figure began to materialize — not mechanical, not human, but something in between. Its form shimmered, built from fragments of memories and broken data.
> "Who dares open the Seal of Echoes?" the voice boomed.
It wasn't a voice — it was thousands, overlapping, speaking as one.
Reiji straightened his stance despite the blood dripping from his side.
> "I do," he said coldly. "The one who made the Oath you corrupted."
The entity turned, its face forming from a shifting collage of human features — some familiar, others distorted.
> "The Oath was never yours alone, Shinomiya Reiji. You gave it to the Dominion when you surrendered the Shadow Protocol."
Kaede looked at him sharply.
> "What is it talking about?"
Reiji's jaw clenched.
"Before the war ended… I gave them access to the Codex. I thought it would end the killing. Instead, they used it to rewrite us."
The entity reached toward him, its voice soft but endless.
> "You broke your vow. You shattered your kin. Now you will remember forever."
A blinding surge of light enveloped the chamber.
Reiji screamed — his vision splitting into fragments of the past: the burning city, the soldiers calling his name, the moment he turned his back and walked into the storm. The Oath had been simple — protect humanity, no matter the cost. But the cost had become everything.
When the light faded, Reiji was on his knees. His blade lay beside him, vibrating faintly with residual energy. Kaede knelt next to him, her voice shaking.
> "Reiji! Look at me!"
He raised his eyes — and for a moment, Kaede saw something else within them. Dozens of reflections, shifting like ripples in glass.
"They're inside me now," he whispered. "Every voice I silenced. Every command I gave."
The entity loomed above, its form beginning to crack, fissures of light tearing through it.
> "The Echoes cannot be destroyed," it said. "Only inherited."
Reiji gripped his blade, forcing himself to stand.
> "Then I'll carry them," he said through clenched teeth. "All of them — until this ends."
With a final roar, he plunged the sword into the base of the console. Energy erupted upward, severing the link between the pillars. One by one, the figures within the glass disintegrated into dust. The chamber trembled violently, collapsing as alarms screamed in unison.
Kaede pulled him back toward the elevator shaft.
> "Reiji! We have to move—now!"
The platform broke apart beneath them. Metal screamed. Flames burst from the cracks as they leapt onto the ladder, climbing for their lives.
Below, the entity's final words echoed through the darkness — not in anger, but in sorrow.
> "Oaths once broken never fade… they only find new voices."
By the time they reached the upper forge, the entire facility was imploding.
The walls folded inward, swallowing the memories, the machines, the ghosts.
Reiji turned back once, his face hidden behind soot and blood.
> "It's gone," Kaede said softly.
"No," Reiji replied. "It's awake."
And in the distance, far beyond the smoke, the Dominion's network flared to life — as if something vast had just opened its eyes.