I’ve always thought abandoned facilities would feel... well, abandoned. But stepping into this subterranean chamber proves me wrong. The air itself hums in a low, steady rhythm, as if the place is still alive, thrumming with residual energy. My gut twists with a mix of curiosity and dread.

The space is huge and half-lit, the walls inlaid with holographic diagrams that flicker like ghosts. Although I can’t read their meaning at a glance, something about them feels oddly familiar. Like trying to recall a dream right after you wake up, when the images are already dissolving behind your eyelids.

I run my fingertips along a dusty control panel. The surface is cool to the touch, and the swirl of circuits etched into it remind me of old memory fragments—bright, frantic flashes in my mind that vanish as soon as I notice them. A wave of frustration bubbles up.

“Another dead end?” I grumble under my breath. It’s not the first place we’ve investigated that’s led us only to more questions.

“No, not entirely,” answers Hidari, its voice crackling through my earpiece. The gentle blend of mechanical precision and subtle optimism is a strange comfort. “We have confirmation this site was marked in Professor Akira’s encrypted files.”

Just hearing Akira’s name makes my pulse jump. That single syllable holds the key to everything I’ve forgotten: the Limit Breakers, my hazy past, and a thousand other mysteries. A shallow laugh escapes me.

“I wish Akira had left behind some detailed user’s manual or something,” I say, focusing on a faint symbol glowing on a panel. “We could save ourselves so much trouble.”

“Unfortunately,” Hidari continues with what might pass for irony in an AI, “the professor’s notes are famously cryptic. What I can decipher suggests these symbols represent the neural mapping protocols used by the Limit Breaker chips. It’s…a blueprint for rewriting someone at the genetic level.”

A chill scuttles down my spine, but I can’t deny the surge of fascination. My reflection stares back at me from a piece of glass in the wall—silver hair, sharp blue eyes, and a persistent shadow of confusion. What if I’m some engineered puzzle, created by a man whose brilliance teetered on madness?

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Rose standing in the open doorway. Blue light from the diagrams catches in her pink hair, giving her an almost ethereal edge. Her posture is guarded, but there’s concern in her gaze.

“Any breakthroughs?” she asks quietly, crossing the threshold. Her tone has that careful mix of command and kindness that always grounds me, even when my thoughts are spinning out of control.

I gesture at the flickering patterns on the wall. “They’re tied to how the chip bonds with a person’s body. It’s advanced—beyond advanced—and these diagrams might be the missing link to understanding what Akira intended.”

She steps closer, her expression darkening. “I’ve seen fragments like these in the Guardian archives. Data I wasn’t exactly cleared to look at.”

That surprises me. “You’re not one to break protocol, are you?”

Rose huffs a quiet laugh, glancing at the small timepiece she always carries. “I’m not, but this is too big. If Akira’s research is woven into your DNA, you deserve to know the truth. And if the Guardians—if anyone—is sitting on that knowledge, I can’t ignore it.”

Somehow, her openness tugs at something in my chest, a cautious appreciation that we’re in this together—despite it all.

We push farther into the lab, the hallway curving deeper underground. The sterile hush evolves into a subtle, pulsing thrum, almost like a heartbeat. My boots echo off the slick floor, each footstep reminding me of how far we’ve come…and how far we still have to go.

Rose glances back at me, her voice subdued. “Let’s keep going. If these old passages connect to more of Akira’s hidden labs, we might find out what you really are.”

I flinch at the phrasing but know she doesn’t mean anything cruel by it. What I am, indeed. Was I born? Grown in a test tube? Upgraded by Breaker tech? The questions swirl in my mind, refusing to settle.

Reflective Thoughts: Tatsuya
As we walk, I can’t help but wonder: did I have a family once? Friends who miss me? The flashes of memory that surface are warm but blurred, like photos left too long in the sun. Every new clue about my identity carries a risk—it might prove I’m just a creation on someone else’s assembly line. But I can’t stop. Some part of me knows there was a life before all this, and I refuse to let that go.

Reflective Thoughts: Rose
I catch her glancing at me again, a shadow crossing her features. She’s got her own secrets, I’m sure. Something about her unwavering focus and the way she squeezes that pocket watch suggests she’s carrying burdens that run deeper than just Guardian duties. When she looks at me, it’s like she’s weighing how much she can rely on me to keep moving forward, how much we’ll share in the end.

We enter another chamber, the overhead lights flickering in a half-hearted attempt to function. A few rusted computer terminals line the walls, while a dormant mechanical arm extends from the ceiling, poised like it was mid-task before it powered down forever.

I rest a hand on my sidearm—just in case. Everything about this place screams dangerous secrets. Maybe that’s just my paranoia talking, but given what we’ve discovered, I’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Hey, Hidari,” I say, half joking, half serious, “what do you think of the city’s architecture down here? Efficient enough for you?”

The AI’s reply crackles in my ear. “Remarkably inefficient, Tatsuya. They’ve left so much advanced tech to gather dust. If I had arms, I’d reorganize it all.”

I smirk, the tension loosening just a bit. “And if the city tried to recruit you as its new overlord?”

Hidari’s tone stays even, but there’s a playful edge I’ve learned to hear. “Please. I hear they don’t offer decent coffee breaks, and the internet’s far too slow for my liking.”

Rose snorts, covering her mouth in a futile attempt to hide her laughter. Her eyes meet mine, and we share a moment of humor that threads a much-needed stitch into our fraying nerves.

Eventually, we reach an end to the hallway. A set of reinforced doors stands before us, locked tight with an electronic seal. Faint lines of code scroll across a small panel, a language part mechanical, part cryptic. I can practically feel the weight of possibility behind it—like opening Pandora’s box.

My hand drifts to my jacket pocket, where the Limit Breaker chip rests. Its faint vibration, or maybe my imagination, courses through my fingertips. This is what I’ve come to find: answers, no matter how ugly or shocking.

Rose places a hand on my shoulder. “Whatever’s behind that door, we face it together.”

I meet her gaze. “We do,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.

With that, we brace ourselves. Tomorrow—or even the next five minutes—could unravel everything we know or confirm our worst fears. But I won’t keep running from the question that’s defined me since I woke up in that alley.

I’m done letting the past dictate who I am. It’s time to walk into the darkness and either reclaim my life…or discover if it’s even mine at all.