Phantom's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Phantom did not know their own name. Sealed inside a black carbon-fiber shell, the pilot behind the purple eyes had only broken flashes for a past. A hand on a lever. A voice calling a name that dissolved before Phantom could grab it. Each memory burned bright, then went dark, leaving nothing to hold. So Phantom came here, to the abandoned training facility, hunting the one thing that might stop the fade. The faded sign still hung above the wide doors: PILOT TRAINING FACILITY. Cracked windows lined the metal siding. Rust ate through the walls in orange streaks. Inside, dust covered old consoles and a collapsed roof beam. Phantom had been told a stabilizer chip was hidden here, a device that could lock a memory in place before it slipped away. Without it, every flash would keep dying. Phantom crossed the floor. A flash hit hard. Hands gripping controls in this exact room. A trainer's shout. A green glow near a workstation. Then it was gone, and Phantom stood alone in the ruin, breathing hard. Phantom pulled a green crystal shard from a pouch. The shard drank the flash the instant it surfaced, holding a faint image inside its cracked facets. That was proof. The memory belonged here. The chip had to be close. Phantom searched. They pried open a dented locker. Empty. They flipped a fallen console panel and dug through wires. Nothing. Behind a workstation, a wild shape moved. A hyena stepped from the shadows. Its fur ran teal blue, streaked with dark maroon. It bared its teeth in a fierce grin and stood over a torn-open supply crate. Phantom froze. The animal had already found the crate, and it had already scattered the contents across the floor. "Easy," Phantom said. The hyena did not move. It only watched with sharp yellow eyes, guarding its ground. Phantom edged toward the crate. Inside sat a small planter, tipped on its side. Bright yellow peppers spilled from it, still glossy, growing thick and wild in the dark. Someone had once tended this place. Someone had eaten here, lived here. Another flash surged, then died. The shard caught it. The hyena lunged for the peppers. Phantom dropped to the crate and searched the lining. Fingers found a hollow beneath the base. Empty. Torn foam. A chip-shaped slot, and nothing in it. Phantom lifted the empty foam and understood. The stabilizer chip was gone. The hyena, or someone before it, had already broken this crate open. Whoever took the chip had beaten Phantom here. The hyena grabbed a pepper and bolted through a gap in the siding. Phantom stood among the scattered mess, holding the crystal shard. The shard glowed with three trapped flashes. But without the chip, the memories inside would fade too, and Phantom had no way to keep them. Someone had taken the one device that could save the pilot's past. Phantom had to find out who.