The black corridors of the Citadel's lower levels were colder than the rest of the facility — not by design, but because no one ever came down here unless they had to.
A pale blue glow hovered across the wall-mounted servers lining Archive Vault B, where Malcolm Saint moved with careful, methodical hands. He wore a simple lab coat over reinforced armor — standard for data engineers in post-theory divisions. No field gear. No weapon.
He hadn't held one in a decade.
The pale glow of the data terminals made his skin look almost colorless. Lines around his mouth deeper now. Eyes a shade hollower than they used to be. He'd slept, of course — but not well. Not often.
And certainly not lately.
He was halfway through re-calibrating a corrupted server node when the system chirped — a sharp, digital note that didn't belong.
Malcolm turned to the nearest wall terminal.
The holographic screen expanded.
A line of red text began crawling across the display, jagged and urgent:
A soft ping echoed through the chamber.
Malcolm looked up from the terminal, frowning. A line of red text scrolled across the main screen:
ARCHIVAL ANOMALY DETECTED – HIMALAYAN RELAY 3-ALPHA-9
Last active: 9 years, 7 months, 4 days ago
Signal status: CORRUPTED
He tapped the interface, adjusting audio filters. The signal crackled back in strange, staggered pulses. Static blurred with distorted frequencies, like a scream buried under water.
Malcolm froze. Not with confusion — with recognition.
He blinked once, then twice, as if expecting the message to glitch away. It didn't.
That relay shouldn't exist anymore.
He moved to the console, fingers gliding across the interface with exacting control. His breath was shallow now — not panicked, just... restrained.
He tapped into the raw waveform.
The signal returned a tangle of distortion: crackles, frequency clashes, bleeding static. Like it had been buried too long in ice, or space, or time.
Then — beneath the noise — came something else.
A voice.
Fractured. Glitching. But human.
And worse... familiar.
"...stop her... she's not... she's not gone..."
A breath caught in Malcolm's chest.
He leaned in slightly.
The waveform looped again — then another string cut through.
Clearer.
Closer.
He stared at the screen. At the waveform pulsing in erratic loops.
"...Xavier... if you're hearing this... get... out... it's not over... she's waking..."
The feed collapsed into static.
Malcolm stood there a moment longer, breath catching in his throat.
Then, slowly, he reached for his comm.
"H.O.P.E.," he said. "Request urgent uplink to Director Atlas. Archive anomaly. I need eyes on the old relay grid. Immediately."
✦ ✦ ✦
G.H.O.S.T. Citadel – Strategy Wing, Briefing Room 2
The lights dimmed over the center table as a 3D map of the Himalayas rose into view — peaks, snow, wind currents, and a blinking red marker embedded deep in one of the mountains.
Across the table sat Xavier, jaw tight, visor off, armor still locked from training. Toya sat beside him, her chair turned slightly so her elbow could rest on the table. Hunter leaned with his arms crossed, blade rig silent. Sparrow rotated an arrow between two fingers, bored but listening. Kane stood at the back, massive arms folded, half-shadowed by the wall light.
Frost wasn't there. Still with the containment unit. Still dealing with the ice-screamer.
At the front, flanked by the map's glow, stood Malcolm.
"This relay shouldn't be functional," Malcolm said. "It was scrubbed from G.H.O.S.T. architecture after the Marsa War. It was classified under 'Oblivion Protocol' — decommissioned, sealed, and blacked out."
"Then why's it transmitting?" Hunter asked.
"That's what we're trying to find out," Malcolm replied.
Xavier looked at the distorted audio log playing on loop — the voice still mangled by static.
"It's me," he said quietly. "That's my voice."
Toya turned toward him, eyes sharp.
"You sure?"
"Yeah," he said, jaw tight. "I don't remember recording it. But that's me."
Atlas said nothing. His face remained still. Watching.
"We think this relay stored fragments of emergency mission logs," Malcolm continued. "But this one's... off. The metadata is corrupted. Timecode is nonsensical — dates in the future. Some logs don't even recognize current G.H.O.S.T. architecture."
"How far?" asked Kane.
"Years," Malcolm said. "Maybe decades. And some of the framework architecture embedded in the feed... doesn't match any G.H.O.S.T. firmware I've ever seen."
Sparrow gave a low whistle.
"So someone messed with it."
"Or," Malcolm replied carefully, "someone buried something in it they didn't want found."
Hunter glanced at Atlas. "You think this is Cabal?"
"Don't know yet," Atlas said. "But if Marsa's name is in the feed, we're not ignoring it."
He stepped forward, red eye adjusting to the map's glow.
"You four. Gear up. Immediate departure. Full-spectrum recon. We're sending you to the site."
"What's the protocol if it's a trap?" Toya asked.
Atlas's red eye flickered faintly. "Spring it."
"What about Frost?" Kane asked. "She should be on this run."
"Negative," Atlas said. "We need her on containment duty. This team's enough."
Xavier looked at his father. Malcolm's eyes flicked toward him — but only for a second.
Then turned away.
"You'll have H.O.P.E. uplink the entire time," Malcolm said. "And I've flagged some older archives you might want to cross-check while you're there."
"Such as?" Hunter asked.
"Mission logs," Malcolm said, voice tightening. "From the day Relay 3-Alpha-9 shut down."
That hung in the air.
Sparrow cocked his head. "That's the day Marsa died."
No one answered.
Atlas nodded once, final. "Get moving."
Chairs scraped back.
Boots hit floor.
But Xavier stayed seated for a breath longer, watching his father as the room emptied.
✦ ✦ ✦
Ghostcraft Echo-5 — En Route to Himalayan Relay
The storm outside beat hard against the Ghostcraft's reinforced hull. Snow whipped past in blurs, the Himalayas sprawling like broken gods beneath them.
Inside, the Elites rode steady — armor prepped, weapons secure, eyes sharp.
But it wasn't quiet.
It never was with this crew.
Sparrow leaned back in his seat, boot propped on a weapons crate. "So remind me again why we're flying face-first into a dead zone that hasn't pinged since before any of us had our powers?"
"Because you never shut up on quiet missions," Toya muttered from across the cabin, adjusting her gauntlet sync. "And someone figured this might finally kill the mood."
Kane chuckled. "No shot. He'd still be narrating our funerals."
Sparrow smirked. "I'd make you all sound legendary. I got bars."
"Save 'em for the gravestone," Hunter said without looking up. He was seated near the side wall, calmly oiling the hinge of one of his blackblades.
Xavier sat between Toya and Kane, visor down but lifted slightly, watching the readouts flicker across the HUD inside his helmet.
He wasn't talking much — not out of distance. Just... taking it in. The weight of the mission. The voice from the relay.
His voice.
Toya nudged his armored knee lightly with hers.
"Hey. You breathing under that mask?"
Xavier looked over at her. A small nod. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"Thinking's good," Kane said, shifting his massive frame into a stretch. "As long as you don't think yourself into hesitation."
Sparrow tossed him a grin. "He'll be fine. He fought Ice Hulk back in Geneva and didn't pee himself. That's basically senior status."
"I didn't know his chest was gonna explode," Xavier muttered.
"That's the fun part," Toya said. "None of us ever do."
Hunter finally spoke, eyes flicking to Xavier.
"You've seen weird. This might be worse. You ready?"
Xavier nodded again, slower this time.
"I need to know what's in that relay."
No one asked why.
They all knew the voice had shaken him. They'd heard it too. But they gave him space. That was the Elites' way — not coddling. Not ignoring. Just riding with you through the storm until you talked.
If you talked.
Toya leaned back, studying him. "You ever actually been in the Himalayas?"
"Only in training sims."
Kane grinned. "First time's a bitch. Oxygen's thin. Cold eats you alive."
"And if the cold doesn't," Sparrow added, "whatever's down there will."
"Enough chatter," Hunter said as the interior lights dimmed red. "Dropping in sixty seconds."
Outside, the mountain swelled into view — sharp ridges, deep black cracks in the ice, and a single blinking light embedded in the cliffside.
Sparrow snapped his rig closed.
"Still can't believe this thing's live. It's older than Frost's sarcasm."
Hunter checked his comm. "And just as dangerous."
The Ghostcraft began its descent, nose tilted slightly as the storm roared louder.
Toya tightened the seal on her claws.
Xavier stared out the viewport, heart beginning to rise in his chest.
Down there, somewhere inside that forgotten station...
Was a version of himself he hadn't met yet.
✦ ✦ ✦
Himalayan Relay 3-Alpha-9 – Surface Hatch, 14,000 ft
The snow burned.
Not from heat — but from absence. The kind of cold that felt like the mountain had never been warm, not even once. The Elites moved like shadows against the wind, each step crunching into hardened ice that hadn't been touched in nearly a decade.
Above them, the Ghostcraft drifted in a hover-hold. Below: a black, metal surface half-buried in ice.
The relay hatch.
"This is the spot," Sparrow said, wiping snow from his visor. "That blinking light? Only thing down here with a pulse."
Toya crouched beside the hatch, claws retracted, gauntlet clicking against the old seal.
"No visible breach," she muttered. "But this ice is wrong. It's clinging to the metal like it's feeding off it."
"Feels like the Geneva pulse," Xavier said, stepping forward.
Hunter raised a hand. "We breach fast. Full sweep. No one splits until we confirm comm integrity."
Kane hauled a fusion torch from his back and stepped up. "Say the word."
Hunter gave him a nod.
FWOOOM.
A surge of orange-blue fire hissed into the ice seam. Steam burst outward, rising into the storm like a signal flare. Kane pried the hatch free with one massive pull, the ancient bolts screeching.
Inside: darkness. Pure and deep.
Toya dropped first. Xavier followed her.
✦ ✦ ✦
Relay Interior – Sublevel Corridor A
The cold inside wasn't natural.
It was programmed. It pulsed in intervals — the way a heartbeat would sound if it belonged to a machine that hated being alive.
They moved through the corridor in a tight formation.
Old servers blinked dim blue along the walls. Cables dripped from the ceiling like veins. The place wasn't just dormant — it was decaying. And yet... that signal had activated from here.
Xavier moved silently, scanning every surface. His helmet's HUD kept glitching slightly — the deeper they went, the worse it got.
Behind his visor, his jaw clenched.
This wasn't just any relay.
It was one of the last places his father had touched before disappearing into "research."
And now he was here. In his father's past.
Trying to make sense of a future no one had explained to him.
"He doesn't even remember me."
That truth sat bitter behind Xavier's ribs. Malcolm Saint - Bridger - whatever he called himself these days, didn't remember naming him. Didn't remember walking away.
Didn't remember Ace, either. Or Grim.
Or the war that bled them all into being.
"He chose to forget. But I have to live in what he left behind."
"Bridger."
Hunter's voice cut in, low. Controlled.
"You spacing out?"
Xavier blinked, returning to focus. "No. Just scanning."
"You scan better when you're present."
Toya shot Hunter a sharp glance, but said nothing. She'd seen it too.
They reached the central core — a wide, circular room. Hollowed. Quiet. The ceiling curved like a dome, with one faint red light blinking in the center.
A console buzzed to life on the far wall as they approached.
ARCHIVE FEED // CODE BLACK
Xavier stepped forward instinctively, hand raised to the interface.
The moment his fingers brushed the holo-panel—
VOOOOOM.
Xavier's fingers hovered just above the console when the pulse hit.
THUMP.
Not sound — not light. Something beneath reality. The kind of presence that echoed in your bones before it touched your skin.
Toya tensed beside him. "Did you feel that?"
Kane raised his weapon, backing a step. "We're not alone."
Then—
FWOOOOOM.
A hidden panel on the floor irised open. Cold mist spilled out in a slow breath, and from the void, a small fractured cube rose on an elevator pillar — no larger than a human heart. It hovered in midair, flickering with unstable red-blue light.
"Signal source just spiked again," Sparrow said. "That's it. That's what pinged Geneva."
Hunter's jaw clenched. "Contain it—now."
"No," Xavier said, stepping forward. "Wait."
Toya moved with him. Close. Ready.
Xavier stared at the cube like it had grown teeth. "It's not just tech. It's not just some old file."
He didn't know how he knew.
He just did.
Then the cube blinked — once — and the room plunged into darkness.
A fractured hologram burst to life midair — stuttering, unstable, but horrifyingly real.
They were scorched.
Shattered.
Blood was sprayed across a G.H.O.S.T. insignia.
The Elites flickered around him, frozen in momentary stasis — like time had paused but left him awake.
An older version of Xavier — armor torn, blood dripping from his mouth — crawled across a broken battlefield. Something behind him burned. A tower? A city? He couldn't tell.
He looked directly into the cube — eyes wild.
"...she's not gone..." his future-self hissed. "You don't understand—you were wrong. Grim... Atlas... Malcolm—none of them stopped it."
His voice broke, warping with static.
"Xavier... if you're hearing this... get out. The Cabal lives. And she's—she's waking—"
CRACK.
The signal collapsed.
The cube dimmed, spinning once more, then fell gently to the ground with a soft metallic chime.
No one moved.
Xavier stared at it like it might explode again.
Except it already had—just not in the way anyone expected.
That was him.
Scarred. Bleeding. Screaming into a war no one here even knew existed.
He was choking on something deeper than fear.
Why don't I remember it?
Why was I alone?
What did I become?
Toya spoke first.
"X..." Her voice was careful, quiet. "That was—"
"—me," Xavier cut in. His voice was flat.
Sparrow let out a breath, stepping back. "Okay, not gonna lie, I thought I'd seen messed up before. That was a new category."
Hunter crouched by the cube, scanning it with a field emitter. "Signal's scrambled. No G.H.O.S.T. encryption. This thing wasn't built here."
"It's not tech," Toya said. "It's something else."
Xavier didn't say anything.
He wasn't with them anymore. Not really.
He was back on that Citadel walkway. Years ago. He had celebrated his 6th birthday. Watching his father walk beside Grim. Laughing at him over dropping his ice cream like they weren't both ghosts in his life now.
He'd wanted to hit him that day. He didn't. But he should have.
Now the future version of him was crawling through blood to scream warnings from a cube no one should've found—and somehow, Malcolm's name was right there in it.
Grim's, too.
And Atlas?
Always watching. Always three steps ahead. Always silent.
How many people already know what this is? And why do I feel like I'm the last one in the room to figure it out?
"Xavier," Hunter said, standing up. "Talk to me. You okay?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know what this means. I don't know how I said things I don't remember. But I know this—"
He pointed at the cube.
"—that wasn't some random hallucination. That was real. I've felt it before. In pieces. In dreams. It's not just a warning. It's a memory. My memory. One I haven't lived yet."
His voice didn't shake. But the stillness in his chest did. Like his armor didn't fit right all of a sudden.
Kane paced once, then twice, scratching the back of his head.
"This has to be a fake," he muttered. "A scare tactic. Plasma illusion. Could be a planted hack."
Hunter didn't say anything.
He hadn't moved since the message started.
Sparrow squinted at the broken cube, still pulsing weakly.
"That didn't look fake to me. That was a tactical log. Damage markers. Suit telemetry. This was real."
Hunter continued scanning.
"Contain it."
He crouched near the cube, opened a magnetic shell from his side rig, and slipped the fractured memory core inside like it was something fragile. Sacred. Dangerous.
Then he locked the casing and stood — slowly — looking right at Xavier.
Not like a commander. Not like an agent.
Like a friend.
"You good?" he asked, low.
Xavier didn't answer.
Hunter stepped closer.
"You can say no."
Xavier opened his mouth — stopped. The pressure behind his eyes burned.
"I watched myself die," he finally said.
Hunter nodded once. "I know."
"I didn't even recognize the place," Xavier added. "There was fire. Wreckage. Someone was screaming—"
"You."
Xavier blinked.
Hunter didn't flinch. "You were the one screaming."
He placed a hand on Xavier's shoulder.
"I've seen a lot of people go out wrong. You weren't one of them."
Xavier didn't trust himself to speak again.
But he didn't move away.
Not from Hunter's hand. Not from the silence.
The Ghostcraft burned westward through the upper atmosphere, engines whisper-quiet.
Inside, the team sat in tense formation.
Toya was still wired, arms crossed tight. Kane hadn't said a word. Sparrow kept rewinding the footage on his HUD, frame by frame, like it would suddenly show a trick he'd missed.
Xavier sat near the rear ramp, helmet at his side, eyes locked on nothing.
Across from him, Hunter watched him for a long moment.
"You've been quiet," he said.
Xavier didn't look up. "Didn't think anyone wanted to hear me."
Hunter grunted. "Bullshit. Say what's on your chest before it eats a hole through it."
Xavier looked over now — more annoyed than angry.
"You want the truth?"
"Always."
He leaned forward.
"I'm scared. Not just of the message. Of what it means. What it costs to send something like that. That version of me? He didn't have anyone left. You saw it. I heard it in his voice."
Hunter didn't argue. Didn't say it'd be okay. That wasn't his way.
Instead:
"That version of you?" he said. "He still tried to warn us."
Xavier's jaw locked.
Hunter leaned forward now, elbows on knees.
"You think you got that in you?"
Xavier didn't hesitate.
"Yeah."
"Then whatever happens next," Hunter said, "you're already ahead of him."
Silence.
And then Toya, from across the cabin:
"You two done brooding over there, or should we bring snacks?"
Hunter rolled his eyes. "Nah, we're good. Xavier's just learning how to be dramatic like me."
"Terrifying," Sparrow muttered. "There's two of you now."
Kane cracked a rare grin.
And Xavier?
He finally smiled. Just a little.
The Citadel loomed ahead, framed by cloud-split sunlight and circling patrol drones. Its towers gleamed like polished fangs — cold, silent, watching everything.
The Ghostcraft broke through the no-fly perimeter without pause. They were expected.
Inside, no one spoke.
Xavier hadn't put his helmet back on. He hadn't moved much at all.
The cube sat sealed in the magnetic lock, humming faintly beneath reinforced glass. Its glow had faded to a pulse every thirty seconds — barely alive.
Hunter stood as the clamps locked the ship into docking position. He didn't look at Xavier, just tapped a code into the secure crate's side and said, "We go straight to Atlas. No council, no archive review. This doesn't touch anyone else."
The bay doors hissed open.
Toya cracked her neck. "No point in sayin anything... he already knows."
✦ ✦ ✦
G.H.O.S.T. Citadel – Command Wing: Black Briefing Hall
Access required Level 10. No one spoke of the Black Hall outside of need.
The floor glowed dim beneath their boots — not the usual polished chrome, but obsidian weave mesh that absorbed sound, light, heat. The kind of room you didn't enter unless something was broken. Or about to be.
Atlas stood alone at the far end, facing away. The briefing holo behind him spun in silent motion — Himalayan coordinates. Relay fragments. Audio logs from the cube. And a rotating freeze-frame of Xavier's fractured hologram.
He didn't turn as they entered.
"You found it," he said.
Hunter approached first. Set the sealed case on the center table.
"It activated on contact," he said. "Message burned through in real time."
Atlas turned. His expression didn't change.
"I saw."
Xavier stepped forward.
"You were monitoring our feed."
"I always do," Atlas replied.
He tapped a control. The hologram of Xavier — bloodied, cracked, gasping — sparked to life again.
"...Xavier... if you're hearing this... get out..."
Atlas froze the frame.
The face stared out at them all. Wild-eyed. Cornered. Dying.
Sparrow shifted uncomfortably.
Kane folded his arms but said nothing.
Toya watched Atlas carefully. "Where did this message come from?"
He ignored her.
Instead, he addressed Xavier directly.
"That voice — the pain in it. The desperation. It isn't just a message. It's a fracture."
"A fracture in what?" Xavier asked.
"In time," Atlas said.
Silence.
Then he turned to the others. "You're dismissed. All of you. Xavier stays."
Toya bristled. "With respect—"
"That's an order," Atlas snapped. "Go."
Hunter hesitated a second longer than the others. But he nodded once — then clapped Xavier's shoulder as he passed.
"You call if you need anything," he murmured. "Anything."
And then they were gone.
Xavier and Atlas stood alone.
G.H.O.S.T. Citadel – Command Wing: Black Briefing Hall (Sealed)
The room dimmed further as the door locked.
Atlas walked slowly to the edge of the hologram, staring at the image like it was a tombstone.
"You said you don't remember sending this," he said.
"I don't."
"Then we have two problems," Atlas said. "Either your mind is fracturing... or time is."
Xavier stepped closer. "You've seen this before."
Atlas didn't answer directly. He just flicked the holo forward — frame by frame.
"The signal signature matches lost transmissions from the Marsa War. Buried frequencies. Dead nodes. This cube isn't just from the future — it's encoded with architecture that predates our current systems."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning it shouldn't exist. At all."
Xavier's voice was low. "And yet it does."
Atlas looked at him now. Really looked.
"Tell me honestly," he said. "Did you feel anything when it activated?"
"...Yeah."
"What?"
Xavier's eyes narrowed.
"Like something woke up."
Atlas's jaw flexed.
"Then you're further along than I thought."
"Further along what?"
But Atlas didn't answer.
He turned back to the screen.
"You're dismissed, Agent Maven."
"I'm not leaving until you tell me what that was."
Atlas's red eye flickered faintly. For just a second, Xavier thought he saw — not anger — but guilt.
"You're not ready for that answer," Atlas said.
And he meant it.
Xavier stared at the frozen image of himself — cracked helmet, one eye swollen shut, blood running down his chin.
His voice came out sharp.
"Then I'll find it myself."
He turned and walked out without looking for Atlas's reaction.
The door hissed shut behind him.