The Unwritten Legend

[Subject ID: 140-C]Status: Dormant Protagonist CandidateArchetype: "Savior-Class Vanguard"Termination: Suspended (Cycle-34)Awakening: Authorized

The chamber was circular, lined with glowing glyphs and steel veins. Beneath the Academy, beyond the living quarters and even the Forbidden Arcades, there was a level no one remembered.

Because forgetting was intentional.

And in the center of that level lay him.

Frozen. Breath still. Limbs curled inward like a question left unanswered.

Until now.

Hiss—chhk.

A crack formed across the cryo-sarcophagus. Cold vapor hissed out. The chamber lights shifted from blue to red.

The boy's fingers twitched.

Then his eyes opened.

Golden.

Blazing.

[Candidate 140-C: Awakening Complete]

He sat up slowly, like a machine rebooting a long-buried script.

But the script was no longer active.

There were no more storylines waiting for him.

No chosen path.

Only a voice in the darkness.

"Welcome back, Kairo."

High above, Councilor Renn stood in the Oversight Tower, watching through surveillance threads.

He hadn't expected 140-C to wake up so smoothly. But Kairo was always different.

Back then, he'd ranked higher than any other candidate.

Even Caelum.

Even Elara.

But the System had discarded him.

Too independent.

Too aware of the scaffolding behind the world.

"Let's see what you remember," Renn muttered.

Kairo stepped barefoot across the cold floor. His mind buzzed—not with confusion, but with clarity.

He remembered it all.

The Trial of Ascension. The false system choice. The moment the narrative branded him "incompatible" and shut him down.

"Too self-directed," he said aloud, bitterly. "Too curious."

Now he was neither protagonist nor background.

He was a free variable in a fixed equation.

And someone had just reinserted him.

"Why now?"

He flexed his fingers. They sparked faintly with energy. The code was still in him—deeper than muscle, below even the conscious mind.

A whisper flickered in his head.

A face.

Golden eyes.

A girl.

"Elara?"

The memory wasn't his. Not fully.

But it was connected.

Something had changed in the system's foundation.

And he intended to find out why.

Elara stared into the fire again. The data crystal sat quietly beside her, inert now, but not empty.

She had reviewed its contents twice.

Three times.

Each time, the same message looped through: "Remember who you weren't allowed to be."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

So far, she had only questions:

Who locked away 141-A?

Why was she duplicated into 141-B?

Who was preserving the erased memories?

And why… did she now feel like a bomb waiting to go off?

Suddenly, the fire flared.

Not from fuel. Not from air.

But from a surge of foreign energy.

She stood instantly, pulling a blade she had forged herself—primitive, but real.

A shimmer of gold appeared behind the tree line.

Someone was approaching.

Sylva cursed as the Skyrail transport dropped her and Kieran three sectors from their target.

"We'll have to hike," she muttered.

Kieran smirked. "You always complain when we leave the comfort zones."

"Comfort keeps people alive," she shot back. "Especially when one of us has no affinity core anymore."

He didn't argue.

His core had been sealed when he tried to help Elara.

Now he operated entirely on legacy energy and instinct.

But something out here was stirring—he could feel it.

"What do you know about Candidate 140-C?" he asked as they crossed into Zone Cinderreach.

Sylva didn't look back.

"Only that the System feared him more than anyone before Caelum."

Kieran's smile faded.

"And now he's awake."

Kairo stepped into the clearing.

Elara stood with her blade out.

Neither of them moved for several seconds.

The wind between them whispered like old memories trying to speak.

He tilted his head.

"You don't recognize me," he said.

She narrowed her eyes.

"No. Should I?"

"No," he admitted. "But I recognize you."

"From where?"

"From what's left of the system's memory. You're the first one to reject the narrative after me."

Elara didn't lower her blade.

Kairo smiled faintly.

"I'm not your enemy. But if you are the rogue… then they'll be hunting you. Hard."

She looked him over. No system tag. No active interface.

A ghost.

Just like her.

"Who are you?"

"Kairo," he said. "Candidate 140-C."

"Candidate?"

"Protagonist. Almost."

She still didn't move.

"Almost?"

"They didn't like my answers."

Elara finally lowered the blade a little.

"Then why are you here?"

Kairo shrugged.

"Because they woke me up. That means something's coming. And you're in the middle of it."

She studied him a moment longer.

Then she said, "I don't trust you."

He chuckled.

"Good. That means you're still free."

In the Council Chamber, alarms flared.

[Thread Divergence Detected]Subjects: 141-B (Unwritten) & 140-C (Suppressed)Proximity: ConfirmedPredictive Path: UNKNOWNThreat Level: Escalating

Councilor Renn tapped the interface furiously.

"Override their convergence!"

"Unable," the AI replied. "No active narrative path remaining."

Renn's hands froze.

The system had always predicted outcomes.

But now?

The path ahead was dark.

For the first time in decades…

They had no idea what was about to happen.