Threadbound:System

Riven stood at the edge of the metro ruins, staring into a stairwell that shouldn't have existed anymore.

The entrance was hidden beneath overgrowth and warped rebar, nearly erased by time and bureaucratic denial. The stairs below had been sealed for years—buried beneath collapsed stone and red-tape refusal. The district claimed this site no longer existed.

But the thread disagreed.

The [Stability Token] in his hand pulsed in faint sync with the ripple ahead, tugging gently toward the dark. The hum behind his eyes tightened.

It wanted him to follow.

And more than that—

It wanted to be remembered.

> [Anchor Fragment Location: Aurora District – Zone Redacted]

Status: Dormant / Flux-Encoded

Anchor Type: Memory Echo – Suppressed

Access: Grade II Required

Risk: Cognitive Desynchronization

Thread Fragment Detected: Aya Vale (Stability 22%)

Warning: Residual Signal Trap Confirmed

Riven exhaled slowly through his teeth. "Of course it's another trap."

This was the fourth time he'd chased this signal. Aya's signal. Each thread more buried. Each location more corrupted. The System clearly knew where she was—it just didn't want him to reach her.

Or maybe… it wanted him to try.

He clenched the token, let it dissolve into the mark at his wrist, and stepped down into the forgotten dark.

---

The moment his foot hit the first step, everything shifted.

The air grew still—not colder, just thinner, like the ripple itself was holding its breath.

> [Anchor Zone Breach – Stability Token Consumed]

Access Granted: Tier II – Submerged Class

Anchor Core: Suppressed / Emotional Type

Zone Risk: High

Reality rippled.

Tiles warped beneath his boots. A security lamp flickered and blinked into a classroom projector. The walls darkened, then paled. Metal bars folded into wood panels. The stairs beneath his feet cracked and straightened until they weren't stairs at all—just a waxed hallway floor lined with faded posters and cold echoes.

And beneath all of it—memory.

Not his.

Someone else's.

He walked forward, ignoring the distortion pulsing at the edge of his vision. The System tried to render something legible over the sensory overload, then gave up.

Only the echo remained.

He passed by walls covered in posters—evacuation drills, outdated announcements, hand-drawn mascots. Every single face had been scratched out.

---

The hallway tilted.

Gravity skewed left. Then right.

He kept walking.

Past classroom doors that didn't exist, past lockers that bled rust like open wounds. The sound of static grew louder.

Something deeper stirred behind it.

Riven slowed near the bend of a melted corridor. The tile here had warped into a spiral pattern, like heat had been trapped mid-collapse.

Then—

A sound.

A whimper.

Soft.

Real.

Not an echo. Not a playback. A living sound.

He moved quietly now, following it through a fractured door into a space that might once have been a playground. The ceiling was wrong—arched like a cathedral, rippling like water under glass. A jungle gym melted into the wall like fossilized memory. A swing dangled from the ceiling upside-down, unmoving.

And beneath the rusted slide, curled in a corner half-choked with ash—

A girl.

No older than ten.

Curled around a torn plush bear with only one eye. Her knees were to her chest, her face unreadable. Just soot and silence.

Her eyes—

Open.

Not blinking.

Watching.

Not afraid.

Just… waiting.

The System flickered.

> [Unstable Echo Detected – Collapse Recommended]

Core Status: Phase Risk / Memory Unstable

Collapse Protocol: Ready

Companion Link: Not Present

Override Possible

He knelt carefully.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said softly.

The air trembled.

A desk caught fire without burning. The light curved backward. The System began flooding his vision with error codes.

But the girl didn't move.

Didn't flinch.

Her golden eyes locked onto his.

He reached out a hand.

The entire ripple screamed.

His vision fractured. Sound shattered. Debris floated. A siren howled in reverse.

But her hand twitched.

Just slightly.

Toward his.

And something between them shifted.

> [Collapse Override Accepted]

Phasekin Bond Detected

Emotional Thread Type: Singular Link

Loyalty Thread: GOLD

Companion Formation In Progress

Light cracked over the space—soft silver and gold, glowing with warmth like breath in winter.

The girl dissolved.

Ash. Memory. Grief.

And in her place stood a creature.

Small. Four-legged. Cream and gray fur. Large ears tipped in gold. Golden eyes. Familiar.

She padded forward, silent.

And pressed her head gently to his chest.

Riven knelt there for a long time, unmoving.

He placed a hand on her back.

"Kaia," he whispered.

The name didn't come from nowhere.

It had always been hers.

> [Phasekin Companion Created – Kaia]

Classification: Threadborne

Status: Bonded

Loyalty Trait Pending

Companion Trait: Memory-Locked

She curled up beside him.

And for the first time in a very long time, Riven didn't feel like a weapon.

---

They moved through the ripple together now.

Kaia stayed close. Her tail low, movements silent. Every step deliberate, like she'd walked this zone before and was only now remembering it.

Maybe she had.

The anchor no longer pulsed with rage—it was quieter now, more like a low hum of breath in the walls.

They passed half-burned classrooms frozen mid-collapse. A cafeteria bent sideways through an impossible angle. Desks hovered above the floor. A whiteboard looped the phrase "help us" in glitching script.

And beyond it all—behind a crumbling auditorium twisted into the shape of a pulpit—waited the core.

A cube of glitching light.

Flickering. Fading. Familiar.

Riven stepped closer, heart tightening.

Aya's name vibrated through the mark on his wrist like a memory trying to surface.

Kaia let out a low growl.

Riven didn't stop.

He reached toward the core—and the world snapped.

---

Wind. Gravel. Pain.

He was back on the rooftop.

Kara's blood soaked his hands.

Her eyes didn't move.

The Hollowborn screamed below.

"No—" he started, but the memory overtook him.

Again.

And again.

Aya's hand.

Slipping.

Gone.

> [Thread Fragment Acquired – Partial Sync (10%)]

Additional Fragments Required

He staggered backward.

The pain wasn't physical. Not this time.

Kaia pressed herself into his side, grounding him.

Riven let out a slow breath.

Aya.

She wasn't here.

Not fully.

But the thread was real. And it had remembered her. The girl who hadn't existed yet. The one the System tried to bury. The one he couldn't forget.

She mattered.

More than the System wanted him to know.

He curled his fingers.

"We'll find the rest," he said.

Kaia let out a soft chuff of agreement.

---

They climbed back into the living world together.

The ripple sealed behind them like it had never been open—just the faint scent of smoke left curling from the broken metro stairwell.

No alarms.

No reports.

But something in the air had shifted.

Aya's thread pulsed faintly now.

Not gone.

Just waiting.

And Kaia walked beside him like she always had—whether he'd known her or not.

A part of him.

A memory.

A bond.

---

> [Trait Unlocked – Threadbound I]

You chose a companion over collapse.

Loyalty threads resist deletion.

Phasekin companion gains passive resistance to memory degradation and anchor corruption.

Riven stood at the threshold of the district ruins.

Kaia yawned and nudged his ankle.

He knelt and rested his hand against her head.

"We'll find her."

Kaia blinked once, golden eyes steady.

He didn't know if she understood.

But he would.

He'd piece together the fragments.

Thread by thread.

Even if the world tried to bury them again.