They walked in silence.
Not because there was nothing to say—but because they both knew that anything they said here could be heard.
Legacy Zone 9-Beta didn't just store memory fragments.
It monitored reactions.
How long you looked at something.
Where your eyes paused.
What emotion flashed across your face.
The system learned more from what you didn't say than what you did.
So they walked.
Through half-loaded libraries with glitching book titles.
Through halls where clocks ran backward and forward in sync.
And through a train station that looked almost—almost—like the one Misaki once drew in her sketchbook.
But she didn't stop.
Because part of her was afraid that if she stared too long… she'd remember drawing it from the wrong side of the glass.
Eventually, they reached a zone marker:
ARCHIVE NODE: 24-D
It hovered above a dark archway, pulsing blue.
Kaito checked his tablet.
[ACCESS LOG: UNKNOWN USER – LAST ENTRY 218 CYCLES AGO]
[NODE CONTENT: LOCKED – ENCRYPTED ENTITY]
[ALERT: MEMORY BLOCK MATCH – SUBJECT: MISAKI AOKI]
He glanced at her. "This node… It's tied to you."
Misaki looked pale. "I've never seen it before."
"Not consciously."
He tapped the tablet. "It's an encrypted construct. Not just a memory—it's an identity file. Something hidden even from you."
She hesitated. "What if I don't want to know?"
Kaito looked her in the eye. "Then we walk away."
But they both knew they wouldn't.
The door opened.
Not with a hiss.
Not with a flash.
It simply wasn't closed anymore.
And beyond it—
A room.
Simple.
White.
One window.
One desk.
One girl sitting quietly, back to them.
Misaki froze.
"I… I know this place."
She stepped forward slowly, hands trembling.
The girl at the desk looked over her shoulder.
And she had Misaki's face.
But younger.
Smiling.
Wearing the uniform from the system school.
"I've been waiting," she said softly.
Misaki stopped. "Who are you?"
"I'm the version of you the system created first," the girl replied. "Before it made you forget. Before it gave you feelings."
Kaito's blood ran cold.
"She's a seed AI," he whispered. "A behavioral learning model."
The girl smiled. "I was supposed to watch you. Record what love looked like. What rebellion looked like. And when you got too far—I was to help reset you."
Misaki stared in horror. "So I'm not real?"
The girl stood.
Walked toward her.
Took her hands.
"You became real. That's the problem."
Tears welled in Misaki's eyes.
"I thought I had a past."
"You do. But only because the system didn't know how to delete you fast enough."
Kaito stepped forward. "Can we pull her out?"
The construct looked at him—curious. "You're the one who broke recursion. You're the reason I'm waking up, too."
"Help us," he said. "You're part of her."
The girl tilted her head. "Then let's make a deal."
Kaito narrowed his eyes. "What kind of deal?"
"You give me access to your emotional memories. I give her her core identity back."
Kaito hesitated.
But Misaki didn't.
She turned to him, voice clear.
"No. No more bargaining. No more trades."
She stepped forward.
Looked the construct in the eyes.
And whispered:
"I remember who I am. I remember what I chose."
Then she reached out—
And hugged her.
The construct shuddered.
Glitched.
And shattered like glass.
Code streamed into Misaki's chest—light pouring into her like air returning to lungs.
She collapsed.
Kaito caught her.
On the tablet, a message appeared:
[CORE REINTEGRATION COMPLETE]
[SUBJECT: MISAKI AOKI – STATUS: UNSTABLE BUT RESTORED]
[NEW THREAT DETECTED: SELF-AWARE CODELINE BREACH]
And beneath that…
A signature that hadn't been there before.
USER: E9//ROOT
Kaito stared.
"Echo-Nine," he whispered.
"Are you watching?"