By the time the sun breached the skyline, Elior had stopped trembling—but the truth wouldn't leave him alone.
He stood in the mirror, shirt pulled down just enough to reveal the base of his neck. The faint spiral mark glowed again. Only now, it pulsed faintly in sync with the countdown on his phone.
"Forty-six hours left," Nara whispered, checking the synced timer. "You're not sick, Elior. You're syncing."
He looked up at her reflection. "With what?"
She hesitated. Then pulled out a folder from her encrypted drive, one she hadn't shown him before.
"I didn't think I'd ever have to open this," she muttered. "It's from my mother. She was a protocol researcher—before the project went dark. Before... they silenced her."
She handed it to him. Inside were classified notes, fragmented documents, and a file titled:
> Project EchoHost: Seeded Entities and Host Memory Activation
"EchoHost?" he said slowly. The word matched the voice in his vision. "That's what I am?"
Nara nodded. "Or what they made you. The Protocol didn't just plant data in people. It planted possibilities—blueprints, waiting for the right host to activate."
"And I'm activated."
"You're the first to reach Phase Two without dying or losing your mind."
---
Elsewhere: Internal Command Station, Protocol HQ
"They've accessed the EchoHost files," said the technician.
"Good," replied the Director. "Let him know just enough. Curiosity accelerates sync. But make sure his extraction point is secured."
"And the girl?"
The Director smiled faintly. "Let her stay. Attachment stabilizes the host—until the memory rupture begins."
---
Back in Elior's Apartment
He flipped to a hidden photo in the file—one of a lab room. Five children stood in cryo tanks, no older than five or six. Each had faint spirals on their necks.
One of them was unmistakably him.
"I was one of the test subjects."
"Yes," Nara said. "But you weren't supposed to survive past Phase One. That's why they erased you."
His voice was distant. "So my parents…"
"Probably caretakers. Planted to monitor you."
Elior suddenly remembered birthdays that felt staged. Teachers that watched him more than others. Medical exams that never made sense.
"All of it was a lie," he whispered. "I'm not even Elior…"
---
Flashback: Vision Trigger
Suddenly, the room spun.
His head throbbed.
He wasn't in the apartment anymore—he was underwater. No. Inside the liquid chamber again.
Machines hummed.
A woman's voice whispered: "Seed stability confirmed. Host code 75334 is viable."
The voice echoed, and another responded: "Begin memory lock. We'll wake him when the Others return."
Return?
He gasped awake. Nara caught him just in time.
"You blacked out again," she said. "What did you see?"
He looked at her, shaking. "There are others. Like me. And they're coming."
---
Deep in Sector 9
In a frozen facility guarded by drones, Subject 75333-B opened his eyes for the first time in twenty years.
He had the same spiral mark.
He whispered in a different tongue.
And smiled.