They moved through the city without speaking.
Ashen walked with the same steady pace, sword resting against his back, eyes forward. The girl followed a half-step behind him, careful not to step too close, careful not to fall behind.
The district changed again.
Here, the lights were dimmer. Older. Buildings leaned like tired giants. Screens flickered with delayed images, as if time itself was struggling to keep up.
Ashen felt it.
A pressure in his skull.
Not pain.
Not memory.
Resistance.
He stopped.
She stopped too.
"This area's wrong," she said quietly.
He looked at her for the first time since leaving the alley. "You feel it."
She nodded. "It's like the city doesn't want us here."
Ashen stepped forward anyway.
The street cameras turned toward him.
Then—
They shut off.
One by one.
Silent. Instant.
The air grew heavier. Static crawled along his skin.
A voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once—mechanical, distant, stripped of warmth.
"UNREGISTERED ENTITY DETECTED."
Ashen didn't move.
"IDENTITY REQUIRED."
He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"I don't have one."
The silence that followed felt… wrong.
Then the voice returned, slower this time.
"SEARCHING RECORDS."
"SEARCHING MEMORY."
"SEARCHING IMAGINATION."
The girl stiffened.
Ashen noticed.
"RESULT: ONE MATCH FOUND."
The street lights flared.
Not on Ashen.
On her.
She froze, eyes wide, breath shallow.
"No," she whispered. "That's not—"
Ashen stepped in front of her instinctively.
"Stop," he said.
The voice ignored him.
"ENTITY CONFIRMED."
"STATUS: NON-PHYSICAL."
The world stuttered.
For half a second, she flickered—just once. Like a bad signal trying to correct itself.
Ashen's grip tightened.
The voice continued, cold and absolute.
"ENTITY DOES NOT EXIST IN REALITY."
"ENTITY EXISTS ONLY IN—"
The system cut itself off.
Screens shattered. Lights exploded. The street plunged into darkness.
When the silence returned—
She was standing exactly where she had been.
Unflickering. Unbroken.
Breathing.
Ashen slowly turned toward her.
She looked at him, eyes trembling, trying to smile.
"…You heard that too," she said.
Ashen said nothing.
For the first time since waking in the year 3054—
The sword in his hand felt heavy.
Not because of blood.
Because of doubt.
High above the city, deep within the Architect's core, a final line appeared before vanishing completely:
ERROR:
IMAGINATION SOURCE INTERFERING WITH REALITY
And somewhere inside Ashen—
Something that had been asleep for centuries
shifted.