The fall lasted an eternity and no time at all.
Jax tumbled through layers of reality, his body stretching and compressing in ways that should have killed him. The Observer clung to his chest, her tiny hands burning brands against his skin. Around them, the darkness pulsed with strange luminescence—not light, but the *memory* of light, flickering in and out of existence like a dying star.
Then—
Impact.
Jax gasped as solid ground materialized beneath them. Not the smooth black scales of the Spiral's hide, but something worse.
Flesh.
The chamber—if it could be called that—was lined with pulsing, organic walls veined with glowing blue filaments. The air stank of copper and something sweetly rotten. Above them, the tear through which they'd fallen sealed itself with a wet, sucking sound.
The Observer floated from Jax's arms, her spiral eye scanning their surroundings. *"We are deep. Where the Spiral's dreams take shape."*
Jax's wrist-console flickered weakly. The display was barely legible, the text warping as if seen through water:
**[LOCATION: UNKNOWN]**
**[REALITY INTEGRITY: 19%]**
**[WARNING: COGNITIVE HAZARD DETECTED]**
A sound echoed through the chamber—not from any discernible direction, but from *inside* Jax's skull. A voice, but not a voice. Words without sound.
*You should not be here.*
The Observer's eyes narrowed. *"Show yourself."*
The chamber *breathed*.
The veined walls contracted, then expanded, the blue filaments brightening to an almost painful intensity. Before them, the flesh-like floor bulged upward, forming a mound that stretched and twisted until it resolved into a vaguely humanoid shape.
No—not humanoid.
*Familiar.*
The figure stood tall, its body composed of the same pulsing tissue as the chamber. Its face was smooth, featureless—until it wasn't. Until the flesh rippled and *remembered*, forming the sharp angles and silver hair of the Architect.
But wrong.
Half-formed.
Like a sketch left unfinished.
The thing that wasn't the Architect tilted its head. When it spoke, its mouth didn't move.
*You have come to break the cycle.*
It wasn't a question.
The Observer floated forward, her tiny hands clenched into fists. *"You were never meant to exist. You are an error. A flaw."*
The figure's blank face rippled again, cycling through expressions too fast to follow—rage, sorrow, hunger. *We are the will she discarded. The purpose she abandoned.*
Jax's console suddenly beeped—a weak, desperate sound. The display cleared just enough to show a single line of text:
**[ARCHITECT SIGNATURE DETECTED: FRAGMENT 7 OF 13]**
The Observer went very still. *"You're not the whole."*
The figure's flesh writhed, its form destabilizing for a moment before reforming. *The others are waking. They remember what she tried to do.*
Another tremor shook the chamber. This time, Jax felt it—not in the ground, but in his *bones*. A deep, resonant frequency that made his teeth ache.
The Observer turned her eerie eyes on Jax. *"The Spiral feels her presence. It will send more than Harvesters soon."*
The Architect-fragment took a shuddering step forward. *You cannot reset the lock without all thirteen fragments. And they will not cooperate.*
Jax's mind raced. The child's last words echoed in his memory. *A choice.*
He looked down at the data chip still clutched in his hand—Eiden's final gift. The key to either resetting the lock… or something else.
The chamber walls suddenly *contracted*, the blue veins darkening to an ominous purple. The Observer hissed.
*"They're coming."*
The Architect-fragment's form began to dissolve back into the floor. Before it vanished completely, its voice whispered through Jax's mind:
*Find the others before the Spiral does. Or there will be nothing left to save.*
Then the flesh beneath their feet *split open*—and the screaming began.