The tremor built into a pulse—one long, low sound that seemed to come from inside their bones rather than the walls.
Kael turned his head sharply.
"No one move," he said.
A breeze swept through the Hall of Echoes.
There was no wind in the Nexus.
Then came the voice.
Low. Flat. Ageless.
"Unauthorized divergence detected. Narrative breach in Sector Seven."
Corren drew his blade. "That's not a system alarm. That's someone."
"No," Kael said. "It's something."
From the far end of the chamber, the glyph-trees began to wither. Not burn or crumble—but fold in on themselves, compacting like paper into nothing. Space twisted. Paths vanished. Threads fell from the ceiling like dying stars.
And then, it appeared.
A humanoid shape—seven feet tall, clad in a shifting mantle of script and crystal, with no visible face. Where its eyes would be, there was only a spinning ring of fractured memories.
The Curator.
Its voice filled the room, layered, almost musical in its coldness.
"You have breached primary trust layers. The sequence must be reset."
Kael stepped forward, placing himself between the Curator and the others.
"You erase truth to protect your lies."
"Truth is destabilizing. The narrative must remain whole."
Around them, the floor flickered. Walls bent. A rebel to Kael's left suddenly gasped—and vanished.
"No!" Lira shouted, reaching toward the space he'd stood.
Kael moved fast.
He extended his hands—not in defense, but in reply. Threads of his own wove into the walls, the floor, the memory lines.
He didn't erase what the Curator had done.
He countered it.
A parallel memory formed—imperfect but strong—reestablishing the rebel's presence, anchoring him back into reality. The man blinked back into place, stunned, breathless.
Kael gritted his teeth. "You rewrite to protect your world. I rewrite to reclaim it."
The Curator paused, its head tilting.
Then it raised its hand.
The chamber began to dissolve into a spiral of repeating memories—traps.
Kael turned to the rebels. "Follow my words. Don't trust the room. Trust me."
They ran.
The Curator followed.