The path to the Void Root began with silence.
Not the usual sort—the quiet of windless plains or abandoned ruins—but the programmatic absence of noise. A conscious muting. As if the world had been waiting to draw breath. As if the code itself took a pause to present what was to come.
The way was linear in appearance, but not in nature. Code and stone blended together beneath their feet, each step echoing with too much heaviness, too much solidity.
Data tendrils coiled about their ankles like vines, whispering half-spoken commands in tongues they had never heard. Some of them dissipated in mid-sentence. Others caught themselves repeatedly, stuck in loops of faulty intent.
Kaito led the way.
The third Anchorpoint—last, by the system's designation—called to him with weight. The Seed of Ruin pulsed softly against his dermal implant, reacting to each turn in their environment.
