WAYFARER: CLAIM THE UNCLAIMABLE

R-4 lay beyond the jungle, where dense canopy gave way to cultivated hills divided by irrigation channels and pale crop terraces. Sterling had arranged transport for most of the distance, but Sio made them leave the vehicle several kilometres early. The twenty-six village survivors and the captives rescued from K-17 were already split between Sterling’s clinics, so he wanted no traceable connection leading back to the Organization.

Angle watched the vehicle disappear around a bend. ”Sterling is going to complain about us abandoning something expensive.” Sio adjusted the damaged archive band beneath his coat while Gumm settled across his shoulders. ”He can afford emotional recovery. I’m more interested in not attaching his transport records to three wanted people who just broke prisoners out of one of their annexes.”

Rhea walked beside them with her mother’s token tied beneath her shirt. She kept checking the R-4 transfer code without saying Tavi’s name, but her attention settled on it every time it appeared.

The road climbed to a ridge overlooking a broad valley. R-4 occupied the opposite slope, several pale buildings linked by enclosed walkways, gardens and narrow water channels. There were no perimeter walls or guard towers, and from a distance it looked more like a private hospital than somewhere that received valuable bloodlines.

Angle studied the valley through Sterling’s optic. ”I’m starting to distrust places with gardens.” Rhea adjusted the focus. ”K-17 looked harmless too.” Sio crouched beside them. ”Maybe the Organization has a department for making terrible places pleasant.” Angle glanced down. ”I wouldn’t rule it out.”

Sio let his Scar spread toward the complex. Staff crossed between buildings, service vehicles moved beneath the terraces, and several underground routes joined structures that appeared separate from the surface. While tracing them, his attention shifted toward an eastern building before he consciously chose it.

The building sat partly behind climbing vegetation, connected to the main complex through an underground passage. Nothing about it should have mattered, yet Sio was already following its route. Why that one?

Silas searched for an answer and returned only certainty without context. I don’t know why, but start there. Places shaped like that kept records away from the work itself: approvals, transfers, project access.

Angle noticed Sio had gone quiet. ”He recognize something?” Sio pointed toward the building. ”Not this place exactly. He thinks that section handles records.” Rhea handed the optic back. ”Then we find where they keep Tavi and the others before we start opening cells.”

Angle nodded. ”I like plans where we know which doors matter.” Sio stood. ”I’ve always liked those.” Angle gave him a look. ”No, you like opening the wrong ones.” Rhea started down the ridge before Sio could defend himself.

They approached through abandoned orchard rows instead of using the public road. R-4 had fewer visible guards than K-17, but every obvious route passed an identity checkpoint. Sio was tracing an old irrigation channel beneath the eastern slope when he turned toward a narrower branch before finishing his search.

He stopped with one foot already inside the shallow channel, and Rhea nearly walked into him. ”What happened?” she asked. Sio looked down the route. ”I didn’t choose that turn.”

A brief impression surfaced from Silas: pale flooring, a dark line across it and the irritation of having taken this route many times. It’s right, Silas said. I can’t tell you why.

Sio rubbed beneath his Scar. ”He knows the route without remembering learning it.” Rhea studied him. ”Habit surviving the memory?” Sio started forward again. ”Apparently my father remembers workplace navigation better than most of his life.” Silas muttered, I can hear you, and Sio kept walking. That was intentional.

The channel passed beneath storage bays, where Sio found a maintenance room connected to the eastern building. He traced enough of the interior to open a safe portal behind stacked equipment, and Gumm went through first because he had already shoved half his body into the opening.

Inside, the corridor looked aggressively ordinary. Soft lights ran above polished floors, plants filled recesses between offices, and staff crossed intersections carrying tablets and drinks rather than weapons.

At the first junction, Sio stopped before crossing a narrow dark strip embedded in the floor. Seconds later, a staff member touched an identification band to the wall and crossed only after a concealed door released. Silas’s response came with the same uncomfortable certainty as the route outside. Restricted transition.

Sio watched the employee disappear. You remember that? Silas searched and returned only the familiar instinct. No. I just knew not to cross it without clearance.

They took the adjacent corridor, where the same thing happened near an unmarked panel. Sio reached toward it, discomfort from Silas made him pull back, and another employee soon activated it and underwent an ordinary identity scan. Angle watched both incidents. ”He’s not remembering rooms. He’s remembering how people were expected to move through them.” Sio glanced toward the next junction. ”That may be worse.”

The eastern building contained more offices than laboratories. Behind glass, staff reviewed transfer requests, funding approvals and project summaries. Rhea slowed beside one office when a woman approved a document without looking away from another file, and the heading remained visible through the glass.

PRIORITY LINEAGE DISPOSITION

Identification numbers sat beneath it instead of names. Rhea’s ears angled back. ”Someone at that desk decides what happens to people like Tavi.” Angle watched another approval vanish from the woman’s screen. ”Probably easier when you never have to meet them.”

Sio remembered K-17’s vocabulary: retain, collect, remove, extinct. Here, those words were still decisions on a screen, but somewhere farther down the system someone turned them into restraints, laboratories or graves. At the next secured junction, three categories covered the wall, and Silas reacted before Sio finished reading them.

LEGACY INTEGRITY REVIEW

ASCENSION OVERSIGHT

CONTINUITY AUTHORIZATION

A memory surfaced behind Sio’s eyes. Arch sat on the edge of a desk, much younger than Sio had ever seen him, tapping a projected record with two fingers. ”...same three words every time they want to hide something ugly.” The image broke before Sio could see the document.

Angle noticed him staring. ”My dad again?” Sio nodded. ”Around our age. He was looking at a report with those same categories.” After Sio repeated the line, Angle read the words again and answered more quietly. ”Sounds like him.”

Rhea looked through the security glass toward the offices. ”Then both of them were around this kind of material when they were young.” Sio asked Silas why, but all that returned was the familiarity of repeated frustration instead of a useful answer.

They moved deeper, and the pattern became harder to dismiss. Sio turned toward an archival corridor before checking his Scar and found the records section Silas’s instinct expected. He avoided another identity station because approaching it felt wrong, then watched an employee trigger a full authorization check that would have exposed them.

Silas never recovered enough to give directions like a map. What survived were habits, shortcuts and procedural irritation, none of it resembling the memory of someone who had broken into these places.

The modern corridor eventually joined an older section where pale walls gave way to dark material reinforced by narrow metallic ribs. The geometry reminded Sio of Veilhollow, and Silas reacted again as another fragment surfaced.

Young Arch moved several steps ahead through a similar corridor while projected documents travelled beside them. Most of their argument had vanished, but one sentence remained as Arch looked back at Silas. ”If they make us sign another continuity review without showing us the source file, I’m setting something on fire.” Silas laughed in the memory, and the image dissolved around the sound.

Angle watched Sio after it faded. ”What did he do this time?” Sio glanced toward him. ”Threatened to burn paperwork.” The corner of Angle’s mouth moved. ”That sounds even more like him.” Rhea looked toward the older corridor. ”Neither of them sounds like they were sneaking around.”

Sio had reached the same conclusion by the time they reached the archive entrance. There was no modern reader or access panel, only dark glass interrupted by a circular mark at chest height.

Silas reacted immediately when Sio approached. Don’t touch it yet. Sio stopped with his hand short of the glass. You finally sound certain. Why? Silas could not explain, but another fragment surfaced in place of an answer.

He stood before a similar door with Arch beside him while a voice said, ”Authorization requires direct identity confirmation.” Arch tilted his head back. ”Again?” Silas laughed, and the memory ended before the scan completed.

Rhea caught Sio’s wrist when he raised his hand. ”You still don’t know what happens.” Sio looked at her fingers around him. ”No, but Silas used one.” Her grip tightened slightly. ”You are not Silas.” Sio looked back at the circular mark. ”That’s exactly what makes this interesting.”

Angle stepped closer. ”Veilhollow recognized things the current Organization barely understands. If this reads more than his body, it might notice Silas too.” Whatever remained of his father had protected Sio’s soul, influenced his Scar and taken control under enough pressure.

This is either clever or incredibly stupid, Sio thought, and Silas answered with enough familiarity to nearly make him smile. You’re my son. Those options have never excluded each other.

Rhea released his wrist reluctantly, and Sio placed his palm against the circular mark. Cold travelled beneath his skin while pale light climbed his wrist and briefly touched the purple Scar beneath his eye before the glass released him. The archive stayed closed as text formed across its surface.

IDENTITY CONFLICT DETECTED

HOST SIGNATURE: UNREGISTERED

SECONDARY SOUL SIGNATURE: PARTIAL MATCH

Angle moved closer while Rhea stayed beside Sio. Inside him, Silas became so still that Sio could no longer separate his father’s tension from his own, and the old system kept searching until another message appeared.

ARCHIVED AUTHORIZATION LOCATED

Letters resolved beneath the message while Sio felt Silas recognize the name before it fully formed. His fingers tightened against the glass.

SILAS FLORAN

The dark glass divided down the middle. Cool air moved from the archive beyond, carrying with it the answer to what Silas had once been here.