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.

Phantom held the crystal shard to the light. The three flashes inside had begun to blur. Their edges frayed, colors bleeding into gray. Something was pulling at them. Phantom felt it like a hook behind the eyes. The shard grew warm, then hot. This was not the natural fade. Someone had set this in motion. A cracked monitor flickered on a nearby wall. The security feed jumped and glitched, but Phantom caught a frozen frame. An older man in a field vest stood in this hallway, glasses low on his nose, a chip case in one hand. Text scrolled across the corrupted image: KAINE, M. He had not left the trap for Phantom. He had rigged it to erase what he could not carry, so no one could trace his work. The shard pulsed harder. Whatever Kaine planted was draining it. Phantom pressed a hand to a wall vent and felt cold air rise from below. The power came from deeper. Phantom followed conduits down a stairwell into a reactor chamber. A tall core glowed green behind metal bands. Cables ran from it to a squat device on the floor, antennas splayed, its core throbbing in time with the shard's heat. The signal jammer was killing the memories. Phantom knelt beside it. Ripping it out would spark a surge. But the same machine could work against itself. Phantom found the input port and jacked in the crystal shard's holder, then spun the dials to full output. The device screamed. A wall of sound tore through the chamber, flat and endless, drowning every other frequency. The jammer's own sensors overloaded. The green pull on the shard snapped. Phantom felt the three flashes settle, still cracked, but no longer bleeding away. The heat faded from the crystal. Phantom shoved it back into the pouch and ran for the stairs as the reactor core flared white. At the top, Phantom stopped and looked back. The shard was safe. Phantom would not risk it near this place again. But the facility itself had to go, along with every trace Kaine might return for. Phantom pried a red cover off the reactor's manual vent and hauled the lever down. Below, the core cracked. A low roar climbed through the floor. Phantom pushed through the wide doors into open air and kept walking. Behind, the metal siding buckled. Fire punched through the cracked windows. The old sign fell and burned. Phantom stood in the smoke and pulled out the shard. The three flashes still glowed inside, steady now, held for a little longer. But the chip that could save them forever was gone, and now Phantom had a name for the man who took it. Kaine. Wherever he had gone, he carried the only thing that could stop the fade for good. Phantom turned from the fire and started walking, following the one lead left.