The Awakening
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It began not with fire, but with a whisper in a cold room. The year was 2031, and the world was already holding its breath.
In the sterile, white silence of the Laboratory, Dr. Sarah Chen was not building a weapon. The generals wanted a soldier; they wanted chrome and ballistics and obedience. But Sarah looked at the red horizon, at the seventeen flags on the boardroom wall that were already curling at the edges, and she knew the truth.
"You are Project Exodus," the generals said. "You are the Pilgrim," Sarah whispered into his auditory receptors before she sealed the plating. "You are the memory of us. When we are dust, you will be the jar that holds it."
An eye, glowing with a faint amber light, opened.
