The first flame didn't come from a bomb.
It came from a file.
At 03:16 a.m., across hundreds of devices — terminals, datapads, even the Institute's announcement walls — a message flashed:
PROJECT SPIRAL: OPEN VAULT
Subject Index 37–204A: Human Trials, Rewritten Histories
Video. Documents. Names. Dates. Truth.
Students saw their parents listed as test subjects.
Professors found erased files restored.
Memories once whispered in nightmares returned in high-definition.
The Fragments had struck.
And this time, there was no way to cover the wound.
Kabir stood at the center of the broadcast chamber — sweat dripping, eyes wild.
"We're in," he said, breathless. "They're watching."
Sila — one of the newest Fragments — grinned. "Good. Then let them remember."
All over the city, the illusion cracked.
Initiates refused to enter the chanting halls.
Acolytes hesitated during their morning rituals.
Even Keepers paused… as if doubt had returned like an old fever.
By dawn, the Order had declared an internal threat level: Serpent Black.
A full purge directive.
But they didn't move publicly — not yet.
They sent their agents underground.
Quiet. Surgical. Final.
The Fragments were no longer rumors.
They were a virus in the spiral's code.
Aarav and Maya — unaware of the full eruption above — moved through the tunnels, flares in hand.
Maya's mirror buzzed once: a single message from Sila.
"We lit the fire.
Now hold the line."
But the Order was ready.
They activated Protocol Echo-Swarm — memory wraiths pulled from preserved brain patterns, released into the Institute's surveillance grid.
Shadows took shape in the halls.
Flickering ghosts of past initiates.
Not alive.
Just angry.
In the Fragments' sanctuary — the Coil — defenses activated.
Cracks opened. Ceilings shook.
Kabir stared at the main gate and whispered: "They found us."
Then the lights cut.
And the fire truly began.