Russ never liked graveyards, even digital ones.
The Memory Vault beneath the Academy wasn't made of stone or bone—it was built from ancient code and raw psionic energy. A digital mausoleum of the dead, encoded in flickering crystal pillars that stretched into infinite blackness.
And somewhere in this echo chamber of thought, his father's mind-fragment waited.
"System," Russ whispered. "Engage Progenitor Archive. Authorization: Russ Talen."
> [AUTHORIZATION ACCEPTED.]
[LOADING MIND-ECHO: QUINN TALEN.]
[WARNING: FRAGMENT UNSTABLE.]
A ripple of static. Then a figure stepped out from the haze.
Tall. Cloaked in obsidian armor that shimmered with celestial runes. And that face—sharper than Russ remembered, but unmistakable. Quinn Talen. The original Voidwalker. The man who burned entire timelines to protect humanity.
His father.
"You've grown," the fragment said, voice hollow with echo.
Russ's throat tightened. "You're just a recording."
"I'm more than that. Less than alive, more than dead. A shard of Quinn, preserved to guide you."
Russ stared at him. "Then tell me. Why me? Why leave all this for someone like me?"
The fragment tilted its head, studying him. "Because the Void doesn't choose who is worthy. It chooses who is capable."
Russ clenched his fists. "That's not an answer."
The chamber began to pulse. Code bled from the walls, whispering.
> [WARNING: MEMORY STABILITY COMPROMISED.]
[TIME REMAINING: 2 MINUTES.]
The fragment stepped closer. "Listen, Russ. The Void isn't a power. It's a gate. One side shows you what you can be. The other shows you what you must destroy."
"Destroy what?"
"Everything coming for you."
He raised a hand. A swirling mass of energy appeared between them—memories compressed into raw data. War-torn cities. Fallen guardians. Celestial beings devoured by shadow.
Russ stumbled back.
"This is the war I couldn't finish," Quinn said. "They're still coming. And they know you've awakened."
"I'm not like you."
"You can't be like me. That's why you might succeed where I failed."
The chamber shook.
> [MEMORY CORE UNSTABLE.]
[MIND-ECHO COLLAPSE IMMINENT.]
Russ's voice cracked. "Wait—what am I supposed to do?"
The fragment reached out, placing a hand on Russ's chest. Cold energy seeped through.
"Survive. Grow. Remember who you are. You're not just my son. You're the Heir of the Void."
A flash of light.
Then silence.
The archive collapsed into darkness, and Russ was alone.
---
Hours later, Russ stood on the Academy rooftop, staring at the sky. The memory still burned in his mind—his father's words, the energy he left behind, now sealed in Russ's core like a second heartbeat.
The stars above shimmered. One of them blinked out.
Not a star.
A ship.
A colossal vessel, shaped like a black dagger, descending silently from orbit. No energy signature. No warnings.
Russ's communicator buzzed.
> "Russ," came Kael's voice. "We have a problem. Something just pierced the Academy's planetary shield. No ID, no signal. And it's heading straight for us."
> "Correction," came another voice—Mira, voice clipped and tight. "It's not heading for us. It's already here."
Russ closed his eyes. The war his father started was far from over.
And now, it was his to finish.