Location: Rooftop near Huajin Sector 7 – 04:12 A.M.
The rain had stopped.
Yan stood on the edge of the rooftop, overlooking a city that no longer knew he existed. But down in the streets, two pedestrians paused under a neon sign, whispering.
One said: "Did you see the Crimson broadcast?"
The other: "Yan…?"
The name sparked.
And far above, in silent orbit, a Rootlight surveillance satellite dimmed.
Crimson Safehouse – Command Room
Mouse gasped and gripped the console.
"He's back."
Qingyue spun toward her. "What?"
"Memory traces are reactivating. Not full, not stable—but enough."
She turned the screen: Xu Shanyue's transmission was fragmenting firewalls in real-time. Millions had seen it. Tens of thousands believed.
And Lin—
He was already gone, tearing down the hallway toward the garage.
"Where are you going?" Qingyue shouted.
"To get my brother," he said.
Meanwhile – Yan, Rooftop
They came for him again.
Not Rootlight soldiers.
Worse.
The Forgetters.
Agents stripped of names, driven only by the protocol. Blank masks. No identifiers. No voices. Living ghosts of ideology.
"You do not exist."
They surrounded him.
Yan stood his ground.
"That's your problem," he said.
"I do."
The Battle – Reality Versus Erasure
One Forgetter lunged. Yan dodged.
Another raised a pulse knife—but it flickered.
Yan reached out.
And this time, he didn't resist.
He remembered himself.
His first cup of tea.
Qingyue's voice when she taught him to read.
Lin's silent presence in the hallway.
Xu Shanyue's hand on his shoulder.
And he spoke—
"I am Yan."
A surge.
Reality bent inward.
The Forgetters froze—systems crashing, beliefs fracturing.
Their bodies remained.
But he stayed real.
Five Minutes Later – Lin Arrives
Lin's vehicle screeched to a stop.
He climbed the rooftop steps two at a time—and stopped when he saw the boy, standing alone.
Surrounded by unconscious shells in white.
Yan turned.
His voice was quiet. Human.
"I think I just proved I'm alive."
Lin walked up slowly.
Put a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's make the world remember why."
Cut To: Rootlight High Sanctum
Alarms.
Emergency protocols.
All around the High Monitor, screens glitched—flashing the name "YAN" again and again, graffiti on digital stained glass.
"Impossible," the Monitor whispered.
A low-ranking aide entered.
"Sir. The Resistance—has formed."
He turned.
"Where?"
"Everywhere people remember."
End of Chapter 96 – The Man Who Remembers