Glass memory

(Perspective: Kaia)

The wind carries the scent of dried fruit, ash, and decay.

We climb over the remains of a bent metal gate and into what was once a marketplace — long before the Sleep, before the collapse. Before any of us.

Plastic-stained counters. Rusted merchant bots toppled in rows. A cracked display board still glitches with the word "WELCOME."

I step forward, the ground soft with dust. My stomach growls, and I hear Maika mutter behind me, "Maybe this time we won't die eating."

---

Ajay finds a crate with sealed nutrient blocks. "Still vacuum-locked," he says. "That's got to mean safe."

I nod. "Distribute them."

We start peeling the packages when a sharp voice cuts through the silence:

"Don't eat those."

We freeze. I spin around, heart thudding.

A tall figure stands between two collapsed pillars, cloak dusted, eyes sharp. He isn't armed. Just… watching.

Venu steps forward. "Who the hell are you?"

The man doesn't move. "That batch turns toxic after a century. You'll get two hours of cramps and a full day of regret."

Sira frowns. "How do you know that?"

He steps closer. "Because I've been here long enough to watch someone else make that mistake."

He kneels, opens his own bag, and tosses a different ration to Venu. "Safer. Less mold."

I narrow my eyes. "Why help us?"

He stands. "Because you're not like the others. You're not fighting. That means you might be looking for something."

He looks straight at me when he says it.

I speak before thinking. "We're looking for a way to fix the people who broke."

He smiles, soft but sad. "Then maybe we're after the same thing."

---

Night falls. We light a small fire near a collapsed stall. He joins us, uninvited, but no one stops him.

"Name's Aerith," he says. "And you?"

"Kaia," I reply. I don't ask how he knows how to survive alone.

Maika leans into me. "What if he's one of them?"

"One of who?"

"The whisperers. The memory freaks. The ones people say are cursed."

I glance at Aerith. His posture is relaxed, but his eyes are scanning. Always scanning.

Maika: "He shows up right when we're weakest. Convenient."

Kaia: "He hasn't hurt us."

Maika: "Yet. That's not comfort."

Kaia: "I've met monsters, Maika. He's not hiding teeth."

Maika's face tightens. "You want someone to believe in you so bad, you'll take it from a stranger."

That line stings. Because it's true. I glance at Aerith again. He hasn't said a word during our exchange.

He looks at me. "Whatever you're looking for, I might know how to get there."

I speak slowly. "Then stop testing us. Start telling the truth."

He nods once. "Tomorrow."

---

The next morning, Ajay finds something while sifting through an overturned cart — a cracked memory tag. Half-lit. Ancient tech.

Aerith walks over silently. Touches it. It flares blue, plays a fragmented audio:

> "…when the Memory Ban was announced… families were instructed to…"

It cuts out.

Venu looks at him. "How did you do that?"

"I didn't. It responded to residual memory presence."

"What does that mean?"

Aerith pauses. Then: "It means I still have memory in a world that doesn't."

Sira: "You're one of the only ones who remembers?"

Aerith: "Yes."

Ajay: "Why you?"

Aerith: "…Because I took it with me."

The silence is immediate and complete.

I step forward. "You stole it?"

Aerith doesn't answer right away. "I kept it. Because no one else would."

I look at the others. "We've been searching for a way to bring people back. He might be the only way."

I don't say what I'm really thinking:

That for the first time, someone might believe what I believe.

And that's more terrifying than being alone.

---

To be continued…