Chapter 26: Discovering the Truth
Scene 1 – The Hidden Files
Lucian stood motionless before the officer, his posture rigid, his expression empty. The fluorescent lights above cast no shadows in the room, their sterile glow reducing everything to stark contrasts—obedience and disobedience, order and deviation.
The officer did not look at him as a man. No acknowledgment of identity, no recognition beyond function.
A directive appeared across his HUD in crisp, unfeeling text.
Assigned Task: Data Storage Maintenance.
Location: Sector 4.
Lucian’s mind accepted the command. His body responded. A nod. A turn. Motion without hesitation.
Yet something inside him recoiled.
The dream had not left him. The whispers. The word carved into metal.
REMEMBER.
The moment flickered like a dying signal, and then it was gone.
The Master remained silent.
He walked forward.
—
Sector 4 was colder than the rest of the facility. The hum of data servers filled the air, a constant low vibration like the breath of a sleeping giant. The walls were smooth, unmarked, stretching high above in endless rows of terminals.
Lucian entered without hesitation, stepping between the glowing monoliths of data storage. He followed the designated path to his assigned terminal and connected his access port.
The screen pulsed to life.
Lines of encrypted data scrolled past in rapid succession, flickering too fast for the human eye to comprehend. To him, the language of The Order was second nature, absorbed in microseconds.
Routine scans. Log updates. Security checks.
A pattern of efficiency, flawless and absolute.
But then—
A deviation.
A file sat among the archived logs, not marked for access, yet present within the system.
PROJECT ONE – RESTRICTED ACCESS.
Lucian’s pulse quickened. A sensation of unease coiled around him, though no part of him reacted externally.
Why does that name feel important?
The Master did not answer.
A warning flashed across the screen.
Unauthorized Access Detected. Proceeding Will Result in Immediate Flagging.
He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the console.
His thoughts spiraled for a fraction of a second.
This was not part of his directive.
This was deviation.
He should look away.
He should report the anomaly.
He should—
Lucian bypassed the security lock.
The screen flickered violently, code unraveling and reassembling in chaotic bursts before stabilizing.
The file opened.
Endless logs stretched before him, each entry identical in format.
Subject Designation: One.
Status: Operational.
Behavioral Deviations: Under Review.
Reconditioning Status: Pending.
Dozens of them. Hundreds.
The list continued, an unbroken cycle of repetition.
One.
One.
One.
Lucian’s breath hitched.
He stared at the screen, his fingers tightening around the edge of the terminal.
This wasn’t just about him.
This was about all the Ones before him.
Scene 2 – The Pattern of Erasure
Lucian’s fingers hovered over the console, his breath steady but his pulse a steady drumbeat against his ribs. The rows of encrypted files stared back at him, endless in their repetition.
Subject Designation: One.
Status: Operational.
Behavioral Deviations: Under Review.
Reconditioning Status: Pending.
He scrolled. The same entry, over and over. Dozens. Hundreds. Each with different timestamps, each assigned to a different date, yet they all shared the same fate.
The same name. The same designation. The same outcome.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
His hands clenched.
The sensation was foreign—anger? No, not anger. Something colder. Something worse.
Something familiar.
The screen flickered, the interface struggling under his unauthorized access. Lucian ignored the warning messages as he continued searching. Deeper. Further back.
And then he saw it.
A deviation.
The earlier files were different—at first.
The first recorded Ones had names.
His breath hitched. He opened the logs.
Subject Designation: Marcus-01.
Status: Behavioral Deviation Detected.
Condition: Unstable.
Reconditioning Status: Failed.
Final Outcome: Terminated.
Lucian swallowed hard, his mind racing. The next entry:
Subject Designation: Isaac-02.
Status: Behavioral Deviation Detected.
Condition: Unstable.
Final Outcome: Terminated.
File after file. The names continued—at first, clear and human. Then, slowly, something changed.
One by one, the names disappeared.
Lucian scrolled faster, his breathing shallow.
The pattern was clear. The earlier Ones retained individuality, remnants of identity. But as time progressed, The Order adapted. The names faded. The conditioning improved.
By the most recent files, there was no deviation.
No names.
Only One.
A pit formed in his stomach.
The process had been refined. Perfected. A cycle of creation, erasure, replacement.
No One had ever made it past deviation.
And yet—
They had all dreamed.
He opened another report, his eyes scanning the text.
Deviation Detected: Subject reported vivid hallucinations. Dreams of past instances.
Resolution: Immediate reconditioning failed. Subject replaced.
Another log.
Deviation Detected: Subject began questioning directives. Hesitation observed.
Resolution: Subject terminated.
Every file. The same fate.
No One had ever survived deviation.
His hands trembled.
His own file was still active. Still operational. But the moment his behavior crossed that threshold—
His fate was already decided.
He was not the first.
And he would not be the last.
—
A flash of static erupted across the screen. A corrupted entry appeared at the bottom of the list.
Lucian’s pulse quickened. He clicked on it, the file loading sluggishly, the system struggling against its own buried data.
Lines of glitched code filled the screen, reforming into jagged, broken text.
A phrase repeated over and over, buried deep within the corrupted archive.
The Sandman knows.
The Sandman knows.
The Sandman knows.
Lucian stiffened, his breath freezing in his lungs.
His dream. The whisper in the dark.
You are not the first.
The room suddenly felt colder, the hum of the servers more oppressive.
His mind reeled, the realization crashing over him like a tidal wave.
The Sandman wasn’t a hallucination.
He was a warning.
A message from those who came before him.
A message from those who had been erased.
—
A sharp noise cut through the silence.
Lucian’s HUD flickered violently.
Unauthorized Access Detected. Immediate System Lockdown Initiated.
The screen blinked red. The walls of the data center seemed to close in, the overhead lights dimming.
The Order had detected him.
The Master had noticed.
He had seconds.
Lucian exhaled sharply, forcing his fingers to move. He shut the terminal down, severing his connection just as the security protocols engaged.
A soft hiss echoed through the room—the door unlocking.
Someone was coming.
He turned sharply, slipping into the shadows between the server racks, his heart hammering against his ribs.
His mind screamed for clarity, for reason, but all he could hear was the last line of corrupted text, seared into his memory.
REMEMBER.
Scene 3 – A Message from the Past
Lucian pressed his back against the cold metal of the server racks, his breath shallow and controlled. The faint glow of the terminal screens cast flickering shadows across the floor, pulsing like a dying heartbeat.
The door hissed open.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber, steady, methodical. The Order did not rush. It did not panic. It did not need to.
Lucian’s pulse pounded in his ears. His body remained motionless, years of conditioning keeping him still, even as his mind rebelled.
Two figures entered the room—black-clad enforcers, their visors reflecting the cold light of the data center. Their weapons remained holstered, but their movements were deliberate, their posture alert.
Lucian shifted his weight just enough to stay hidden in the narrow space between the servers. He was out of view—for now.
One of the enforcers moved to the nearest terminal, fingers gliding across the interface.
"Unauthorized access detected," the voice crackled through their comm system. "Trace failed—subject disconnected before lockout."
Lucian remained still, waiting.
The second enforcer scanned the room, his visor flashing. "Surveillance shows no exit breach. Intruder is still inside."
A pause.
"Proceeding with sweep."
The enforcers split up.
Lucian clenched his jaw. His mind raced. He had to move.
He waited until one of them disappeared behind another row of servers, then slid silently toward the opposite end of the chamber. His movements were calculated, precise—executed without thought, without hesitation.
His HUD flickered. A faint static. A pulse of something… wrong.
Then—
The screen on the terminal beside him blinked to life.
Lucian froze.
Lines of distorted code filled the display, flickering between static and corrupted text. His name flashed across the screen, then disappeared.
A file was opening on its own.
A recording.
A voice—garbled, fragmented—filtered through the speakers.
"You have been here before."
Lucian’s blood ran cold.
The enforcers hadn’t noticed. Not yet.
He turned his head, eyes locked on the screen.
The voice was familiar.
Too familiar.
It was his own.
Not his voice now. Not the cold, controlled tone he spoke with as One.
It was raw. Strained. Desperate.
"You won’t remember this. But you have to try."
Lucian’s breath hitched.
The recording distorted, words overlapping, skipping, as though fighting against something trying to erase them.
"We all reach this point. We all think we can stop it."
The sound glitched again.
A flicker of movement in the reflection of the screen—one of the enforcers turning back toward his direction.
Lucian tensed.
The recording continued.
"But the cycle doesn’t break. The Master makes sure of that."
The footsteps grew louder.
Lucian’s fingers curled into fists.
The voice on the recording wavered.
"They erase us. Over and over. Every time we start to remember."
The screen flashed with distorted images—files, reports, flashing too quickly to comprehend. But Lucian understood.
He had seen them before.
He had read them before.
The recording stuttered, the static intensifying.
The voice, his own, spoke one final time.
"They will come for you. They always do."
A pause. A whisper beneath the distortion.
"Remember me."
The screen went black.
The room plunged into silence.
Lucian exhaled slowly. His body remained still, his mind spinning.
What have I just heard?
A sharp click of a weapon being drawn.
The enforcer was moving toward him.
Lucian didn’t think.
He acted.
His body launched into motion, muscles coiling, instincts overriding hesitation. He pivoted around the server rack, silent as a shadow. The enforcer turned just as Lucian struck—one precise blow to the throat, the second to the visor.
The soldier staggered, but Lucian was already moving, already stripping the weapon from his grip before the enforcer could recover.
The second enforcer turned. Too slow.
Lucian fired.
A silenced shot. A perfect, calculated execution.
The first enforcer collapsed.
The second barely had time to react before Lucian closed the distance, striking fast and merciless. The body fell with a dull thud.
Silence.
Lucian stood still, the weapon steady in his hands, his breath slow and even.
Then he turned back to the terminal.
The recording was gone.
Erased.
As if it had never existed.
But the voice still echoed in his mind.
"Remember me."
Lucian clenched his jaw.
He didn’t know who he had just killed. He didn’t know who he had just saved.
But he knew one thing with absolute certainty.
This was not the first time.
And if he didn’t act, it would not be the last.
He was running out of time.
