100 years left: The Unseen Executioner

The Archives weren't listed on any surface map.

That made sense. They were never built to store data. They were built to erase it.

Records. Personnel. Incidents. Even full cities.

The janitor walked down a corridor that no one used anymore—rusted stairwells, blinking lights, a leaking pipe groaning overhead. The deeper he went, the quieter the system got.

Until finally—

> [Network: Unavailable]

[Tracking Disabled. Sync Mode Offline.]

[Manual Operation Only.]

Even the system couldn't see this place.

That was a clue by itself.

He reached a sealed vault labeled "RETIREMENT – DATA CORE 03-A", written in faded stencil over a blackened steel door. No scanner. No terminal. Just dust and silence.

He pulled out a dull keycard from his sleeve.

He'd found it buried in the base of Terminal-9, behind a false log panel with Kira's handwriting on it. No data. Just the card. That meant she wanted someone to find it.

He pressed it to the lock.

The door groaned, then clicked.

The Archives weren't glowing data halls or shining uplinks.

They were graves.

Rows of cryo-coffins stood in silence, each with a body floating in preserved gel. Dozens. Hundreds. All wearing uniforms. Janitors. Watchers. Engineers. Some still had their system tags active—blinking even through the stasis glass.

Each one was marked with a single label: "FAILED INTEGRATION"

Echo walked past them without flinching.

This was what happened when the system didn't like what you became.

Echo-type cleaners weren't supposed to evolve. They were tools, not variables. But if one diverged too far—if they learned too fast, killed too well, or started asking the wrong questions—this is where they ended up.

Preserved. Not executed.

Because the system still wanted their code.

Just not their will.

> [User Input Detected: System Access Override]

Accessing Memory Fragment: "Echo Variant – Source Loop 01"

…

> "Only one Echo-type survived the decay cycle. All others became unpredictable. Shutdown required."

"But he kept completing missions. Better than projected. Learning faster. Bypassing failsafes."

"That's not optimization. That's instinct."

"He wasn't made. He grew. Inside the system. Self-directed evolution."

"We don't need to shut him down."

"Then what?"

"We need to keep him… watching. He's our control variable now."

> > STATUS: Observation protocol assigned.

Assigned Alias: Asset 005A

Classification: Echo Rebound

Memory Wipe – Success

Synthetic Identity Deployed

He stepped back.

The system didn't just create him.

It once tried to kill him. Then rewrote him. Then watched him like a lab rat.

He wasn't some secret weapon.

He was a mistake that outgrew its leash.

A soft humming buzzed overhead.

A red light turned on.

He wasn't alone anymore.

A tall figure stood behind one of the cryo-pods, half in shadow, holding what looked like a service wrench—but Echo could tell from his stance: trained. Not janitorial. Not clean.

> [Unauthorized Unit Detected – Class: Internal Sentinel / Code Marker: "Reclamation"]

Mission Triggered: "Asset Retrieval – Level Red"

Objective: Subdue Echo Variant 005A

Status: Critical Lockdown Engaged

The Reclamation unit stepped forward.

"You weren't meant to wake this early," the voice rasped.

Echo didn't reply.

The first strike was fast—spinning pipe into a downward smash.

Echo dodged left. Barely.

The system was still offline. No support. No readouts. This would be pure instinct.

They clashed in silence. A brutal dance of steel on steel. No flashy tech. No energy fields. Just the sound of footfalls, breath, and blunt force.

Then Echo slipped—Shadow Step II activated manually. He phased behind the unit mid-motion, planted a dagger into the joint of its armored spine, and twisted.

The unit jerked. Twitched.

> [Adaptive Kill Memory Engaged.]

Pattern Analysis: Sentinel-Class Behavior Added.

Resistance Profile Updated.

Efficiency Against Similar Targets: +14%

The Reclamation unit dropped.

Echo didn't look at the body.

He accessed the cryo-core.

Inside, he found an unmarked data prism. Black. Cold. Old.

It pulsed once when he touched it.

> [Memory Core Acquired: "Origin Pulse"]

Status: Locked

Integrity: 43%

Notes: Data suggests Echo-type root code may extend beyond current network boundaries.

He left the Archives behind, body unshaken but his mind no longer still.

They hadn't just made a mistake.

They'd tried to bury it.

But it walked anyway.