The chamber pulsed with light.
Each wave hit harder than the last.
Like the room was breathing faster.
Panicking.
Or maybe preparing.
The countdown on the screen dropped with every breath.
6:46:03
6:45:59
We stood in the center of it all.
Frozen.
Watching.
Listening.
Waiting for a voice, a reason, a way out.
Reese stared at the image of me—arms raised, light spilling from my hands, projected from the sphere like a memory it refused to forget.
He pointed.
"That's from three weeks ago."
"I've never seen this footage," I said.
"You couldn't have. It was taken through Origin's system."
Delryn's voice buzzed over comms. "We're seeing surge levels from your location. What the hell is going on down there?"
Echo responded, calm and sharp. "It's alive."
Delryn didn't even ask for clarification.
She just muttered, "Of course it is."
The files opened themselves.
Not one by one.
All at once.
The air thickened with data, voices, logs—memories layered over each other, indistinct, overwhelming.
A thousand decisions.
A thousand deceptions.
We were drowning in ghosts.
Then the sphere whispered again.
Only to me.
"You are the anchor. Your presence stabilizes the structure."
"What does that mean?" I said aloud.
Reese backed away from the control panel.
Echo narrowed her eyes.
"You've been triggering it," she said slowly. "Every time you've used your power near Hollow energy. League drones. Even that vault…"
"I didn't know."
"You were built for this," Reese said. "Maybe not by them. But by it."
We finally found the original project file.
It was buried under ten levels of nested code.
Labeled: "Phase Zero: Subject C-17."
Echo clicked it.
The screen blinked.
And displayed a birth record.
Not a powered individual.
Not a test subject.
Just… me.
I felt cold.
"Is that real?" I asked.
Reese scanned the encryption. "It's legitimate League documentation."
"Then what's it doing in here?"
Echo looked at the sphere.
And for the first time, she stepped back.
"It's been watching you from the beginning."
The whisper again.
This time inside my skull.
"You are not control. You are balance. You are the lock."
"Okay," I muttered, pacing now. "So what does that mean? That I was born to… what? Hold this thing together? Keep the world from splitting?"
Reese shook his head. "You weren't born for anything. But this thing chose you."
Echo's eyes darkened.
"Then what happens if you walk away?"
The sphere began to flicker—spinning faster.
The countdown ticked under 6:30:00.
I looked around.
At the cables.
At the vault-shaped room.
At the soft, glowing hum in my veins.
And finally, at my own hands.
They were trembling.
Lit faintly blue-gold.
The same color as the sphere.
I swallowed.
"What happens at zero?"
The whisper responded.
But not like before.
It echoed across the entire room:
"Separation. System collapse. Energy rebalance through detonation."
Reese's face paled. "It's going to detonate?"
Echo clenched her fists.
"No. It's going to reset."
"Reset what?" I asked.
The screen shifted.
Showed the city.
Outlined in red.
Then it glitched.
Red turned to nothing.
A blank slate.
Delryn's voice again: "Guys, Hollow movement just spiked near your coordinates. A full squad. They're diving underground. ETA four minutes."
Reese cursed.
"Whatever we do, we've got to do it now."
Echo looked at me.
Not afraid.
Not pleading.
Just ready.
"What's the move, Anchor?"
I walked to the sphere.
Stared into the shifting lights.
It pulsed faster as I approached.
Welcoming.
Waiting.
I held out my hand.
And it didn't reject me.
It reached back.
A strand of light wrapped around my fingers.
Warm. Familiar.
Not painful.
Like touching a memory I didn't know I had.
"You can stop this," the voice whispered.
"Or you can let it end."
I took a deep breath.
"I'm not letting the world burn."
The room filled with light.
The interface flared.
Code rushed across the walls like a living storm.
Reese staggered back. "It's rewriting itself!"
"Is it stable?" Echo shouted.
"I don't know!"
I felt the connection deepen.
Saw images not just of me, but of everyone.
Echo.
Delryn.
Riven.
Even the vault girl.
She was there too.
Watching.
Smiling.
Choosing.
"Anchor protocol confirmed," the system announced.
"Stabilization sequence initiated."
Reese blinked. "What the hell does that mean?"
Echo turned to him. "He's binding to it. Preventing collapse."
Reese's eyes widened. "Wait. If he anchors it…"
"He stays here," Echo finished.
"No," Reese whispered. "No, no, no. We didn't agree to that."
"I did," I said.
They looked at me.
"Someone has to keep this from going nova. Someone with the right energy pattern."
"You mean someone stupid enough to plug themselves into a city-sized energy bomb," Echo snapped.
But her voice cracked.
The timer froze.
6:18:03
The hum slowed.
The flicker stilled.
The chamber breathed again.
Steady.
Controlled.
Balanced.
And the voice whispered one last time.
"Thank you."
I collapsed.
Echo caught me.
The light faded.
But the sphere no longer buzzed with panic.
Just calm.
Held.
Anchored.
Still.
We retreated.
Reese kept checking my vitals every two minutes.
I told him I was fine.
I wasn't.
But I was still here.
That was enough.
For now.
Aboveground, the city held.
No Hollow strike came.
The League issued a silent blackout.
Not denial.
Just… nothing.
They knew.
They just didn't know what to do anymore.
We returned to the safehouse.
Delryn had cleared the comms grid.
Reese wiped our signature from the grid.
Echo stayed close.
Quieter now.
Watching me like I'd disappear if she blinked.
That night, I sat on the edge of the roof.
Hands still glowing faintly.
Not hurting.
Just humming.
A new hum.
Not borrowed.
Not forced.
Mine.
She sat beside me.
Said nothing at first.
Then, finally:
"You stayed."
"I had to."
"No, you chose to."
I nodded.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"No. It feels… right."
She exhaled.
"Good. Because we still have work to do."