Sannet sat cross-legged in the dimly lit room, the data cube humming faintly in her hands. The weight of Trazyn's request pressed on her, but this was no ordinary task. She had to uncover the truth—no matter how much it tore her apart. As she activated the cube, its light spilled across her face, fragments of data swimming like a constellation in the air around her. Slowly, the memories within the cube unraveled, merging with her own consciousness.

This was no ordinary data. It wasn’t just historical accounts or cold records; it was alive, a repository of truths spanning countless dimensions. Her breath caught as fragments of her life intertwined with alien worlds, alternate realities, and the unrelenting thread of one man’s grief: the Archivist.

Her focus sharpened as she searched for a singular point—the truth about Eden's death. Time and reality folded in on themselves as she delved deeper, the layers of memory and knowledge threatening to consume her. Then, she found it.

A vision bloomed before her, vivid and overwhelming. Sannet was no longer in the room. She stood in a moment ripped from time, an infinite field of possibilities stretching before her. She saw Eden, radiant and alive, standing beside the Archivist, her laughter echoing in the void. And then came the shadow.

It wasn’t a faceless being or a cosmic force. It was someone familiar. Sannet’s heart sank as the shadow stepped into the light, revealing none other than Nova Terra—or rather, a version of her. This Nova was cloaked in a sleek, black uniform etched with glowing runes of power. Her blonde hair, tied back with military precision, gleamed under the flickering light of destruction. Her piercing blue eyes, colder than ever, glared at Eden with calculated determination.

Eden's expression pales, her voice barely a whisper. "You?"

Nova's face remained unreadable, a perfect mask of authority. She didn't respond, only raised her weapon, a sleek, high-powered rifle that isn't like anything Sannet has seen. Its barrel glowed with a pulsing red energy, charged and ready to fire. With a fluid motion, Nova aimed it at Eden, her stance unyielding.

Eden tried to plead with her, her voice shaking. "Nova, please, don't do this." She then stood in front of the Archivist: "Stay back. Let him go, and you can have whatever you came for."

"You never should've given birth to that freak of a daughter. It ends now, Eden." Nova's voice was steady and devoid of emotion. "No one is above the order. I'm sorry." With a single shot, the world around them shattered, and everything was consumed in a blinding light. The vision ended, leaving Sannet gasping in the real world, the data cube slipping from her hands. The truth, raw and painful, had been revealed.

Sannet watches it silently, her hands are crossed under her chin. As the vision ends, she sits back in her chair, her expression grim. "So, it was Nova..." She says to herself quietly. The revelation is heavy on her, but she knows this information is too important to be revealed at the moment. After a moment of contemplation, she makes a decision. She takes the data cube and carefully inserts it back into her personal terminal. Her fingers move with practiced efficiency as she begins to erase all traces of the vision she just witnessed.

"So you know?" Viola's voice suddenly came from behind Sannet, making her jump a little bit. "You shouldn't be watching this." She added, a pistol pointed at Sannet.

Sannet turns to face Viola, her expression calm and composed despite the weapon pointed at her. "Yes, I saw it," she admits. "But I'm not going to reveal this to anyone." She says firmly, looking straight into Viola's eyes, trying to convey the sincerity of her words. "I know the implications of this knowledge, and I know how dangerous it can be if it falls into the wrong hands."

"Yeah I know, I just love to screw with you." Viola lowers her gun, she smiles and walks toward Sannet. "I'm sorry, I just can't help but to mess with people. It's a bad habit." Viola says.

The quiet hum of the terminal filled the room as Sannet sat motionless, her thoughts a tangled web. Viola leaned casually against the doorway, her pistol now holstered, but her sharp purple eyes betrayed a guarded alertness. The smirk she often wore was gone, replaced by an expression Sannet couldn’t quite place—part amusement, part something deeper.

"You’re surprisingly calm for someone who just pointed a gun at me," Sannet said dryly, her hands folding over her lap as she turned to face Viola.

"Hey, I never said I was here to hurt you," Viola replied, stepping into the room with her usual feline grace. "I just like keeping people on edge. It’s a habit." She plopped into a chair across from Sannet, kicking her legs up onto the table. "But let’s cut the small talk, yeah? I think we’ve got bigger fish to fry."

Sannet’s gaze sharpened. "Like what? Another one of your games?"

"Hardly," Viola said, waving a dismissive hand. "What you found in that cube is just the surface. If you’re going to understand what’s really happening, you need context—history. And lucky for you, I’ve got the full story."

Sannet leaned forward, her skepticism clear. "You seem to know a lot about things you shouldn’t. Who are you really, Viola? What are you after?"

Viola’s lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Me? I’m just a concerned citizen. But you... you’re the key to this whole mess." She leaned back, her gaze piercing. "You want to know the truth? About Nova? The Archivist? Everything?"

Sannet’s brow furrowed. "Yes," she said slowly. "But not from you. I need to verify the information myself."

Viola’s laugh was a soft, mirthless chuckle. "Don't trust me? Smart girl. But here’s the thing: you don't need to trust me to use me." She stood, walking around the table to lean close to Sannet’s ear. "You need me, Sannet. And I’m willing to give you everything—on my terms."

"All talks but there's no content in them. You're just wasting my time." Sannet replied. She's as emotionless as usual but the way she looks at Viola shows a hint of irritation. "Tell me or leave me alone."I'm

Viola touches Sannet's hair and caresses it: "Oh i'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." She said, smiling. Sannet doesn't say anything but she did push Viola's hand off her hair.

"What do you want from me?" Sannet asks, her tone neutral but her body language betraying her discomfort.

"I want to help you, that's all." Viola says, her tone sincere. She gets her nose close to Sannet and sniffs her hair: "My... you smell so good."

"Get away from me!" Sannet said, pushing Viola away from her. Sannet quickly stands up and backs away from Viola, her hands raised in a defensive position. "Don't touch me again."

Viola smirks at her, her purple eyes gleaming with mischief. She licks her lips and steps closer to Sannet, her hips swaying as she approaches. "Oh, come now, Sannet. I'm just playing with you." Viola said, she pressed Sannet on the wall: "I know how you feel about Trazyn." She added.

"You're lying." Sannet said coldly, her face a mask of indifference. But Viola sees through her, and she knows it. She leans in, her breath warm on Sannet's ear as she speaks. "You can't lie to me, Sannet. I know everything there is to know about you. Everything." Her words are whispered, but their weight is undeniable. "I know you've been holding onto your hatred of Trazyn. But I also know that there's something else there. Something you can't ignore." She said and pulled back, looking Sannet in the eyes. Sannet stares back defiantly, but her resolve is crumbling. "You're scared. Scared of what might happen if you let go of your anger. Scared of what might happen if you give in to your desires."

"You're wrong." Sannet said, her voice barely a whisper.

Viola shakes her head, her smile knowing. "Am I?" she asks, her hand reaching up to cup Sannet's cheek. The touch is gentle, but it sends shivers down Sannet's spine. "I can see it in your eyes, Sannet. You want him. You want him more than anything."

"No, I..." Sannet starts to protest, but her voice trails off. She can't deny it anymore. She knows it's true. She has been denying it for so long, but she can't deny it any longer.

"You've known him for millions of years, he is yours not Monika's." Viola says, her voice low and seductive. "Take him, take what is yours."

Sannet's hands are shaking as she tries to push Viola away, but her touch is intoxicating. "I can't... I can't do that to Monika... I can't do that to him..."

"Oh? you care about that woman who stole your man?" Viola's eyes are gleaming with a mix of amusement and malice as she steps back, giving Sannet room to breathe. "You are a lot kinder than I thought." she adds.

"I am not him... I am not like him..." Sannet whispers, her voice trembling. She's shaking, her body tense and rigid. Her hands are clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "I can't... I can't..."

Viola smiles: "And this is why I trust you Sannet. You are the only one I can entrust with the truth." She then hands Sannet's data disk: "Here. This information has been proofed of any form of type of access except you. No one, not even higher life forms can see or know what you will see. This will help you understand everything that happened."

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Sannet takes the disk and looks at it, her expression unreadable. "Why...? Why are you giving this to me?"

Viola shrugs, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth: "Because you are Sannet. In every world, you are the martyr and the savior. I know you will not misuse this power." She said and left.

Sannet watched Viola leave with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. She looked down at the data disk in her hand, a wave of unease washing over her. She could feel the weight of knowledge it held, and the responsibility that came with it. With a sigh, she pocketed the disk, deciding to wait until she had some privacy to review its contents.

The door to Sannet's quarters slid shut behind her, the mechanical click echoing in the silence of the room. She stood for a moment, her hand brushing against her chest pocket where the data disk rested. Viola’s words lingered in her mind. "You are special. I know you will not misuse this power."

Sannet didn't feel special. If anything, she felt like a relic of a past life, a being shaped by others’ ambitions and whims. She moved to the terminal at her desk, sitting down slowly, her eyes fixed on the disk as she pulled it out. It was small, but it felt heavy—like it contained the weight of entire worlds.

Taking a deep breath, she slotted it into the console. The screen flared to life, a soft glow illuminating her face. The interface shifted, codes unraveling, and an authentication message appeared. She placed her palm against the screen, and it scanned her biometrics, verifying her unique signature.

“Access granted.” From this moment all information from that disk has been protected by the protocol. All beings except Sannet have been restricted to any information regarding this. All information and knowledge has been set to be seen by Sannet and Sannet alone. All higher beings and lower beings cannot view or have knowledge of any information regarding the disk.

After an hour, Sannet slid open the door, and stepped outside, her body stiff. She leans against the wall, her eyes closed. She is shaking, her hands are trembling, and she looks pale. "So... that's how it was..." She mutters to herself.

"Bastard..." She says as she clenches her fist. She then walked away, her head bowed low, her eyes filled with anger. Without hesitation, she teleported to the whereabouts of Trazyn and kicked down the door. "TRAZYN!" She shouts loudly. The door shatters in front of her, falling to pieces at her feet.

Trazyn looks up, his eyes wide in surprise. He sees Sannet standing there, her eyes filled with anger. “What do you want, Sannet?” He asks.

"You fucking bastard, how dare you?!" She grabs him by the collar and pushes him against the wall. Her face is inches from his, her eyes blazing with fury.

Trazyn didn’t resist. His glowing green eyes, cold and calculating as ever, locked onto Sannet’s with a curious intensity. “How dare I… what, exactly?” His voice remained calm, measured, though there was a flicker of unease behind his words. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to read the storm raging within her.

“You knew!” Sannet snarled, slamming him harder against the wall. The sound of the impact reverberated through the chamber. “You knew about the Archivist... Eden... Even Minka... About everything! And yet, you said nothing. Nothing!” Her hands trembled, though she refused to release him.

Trazyn’s metallic face remained impassive, though his gaze darkened. “You’ll have to be more specific, my dear Sannet. What exactly is it that I knew?” His tone was sharp now, the condescension that often laced his words barely concealed.

Sannet’s grip tightened, her voice shaking with barely controlled rage:“The organization that Eden was a part of. The truth about why she died. ” Her breath hitched, and for a brief moment, pain flickered across her face, breaking through her anger. “You could have told me! You could have stopped me from—”

“From what?” Trazyn interrupted, his voice cutting through her words like a blade. “From discovering the truth for yourself? From growing beyond the limitations of your own perception? Do not delude yourself, Sannet. You are where you are because I allowed it.” He raised a skeletal hand, prying her fingers off his collar with surprising gentleness. “And perhaps because I needed you to see this through.”

Sannet staggered back, her expression a mix of disbelief and betrayal. “Need me? You—” She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “You’ve been pulling my strings this entire time, haven’t you? Manipulating me, just like you do with everyone else.”

Trazyn adjusted his cloak with a casual air, though his movements were slower, more deliberate. “You say manipulation. I say guidance. Tell me, Sannet: would you have been able to uncover what you did if I had simply handed you the answers? Or would you have dismissed it as another one of my games?”

“Don’t you dare try to justify this,” Sannet growled, something dawned on her: "Oh.. you... You and Viola. You both have orchestrated this whole charade. How far are you going to drag me into your twisted game?" She asks.

Trazyn’s expression shifted, a subtle change that might have gone unnoticed by anyone but Sannet. “I told you, Sannet. I needed you to see the truth for yourself. Viola, she is merely a tool, just as you are. Just as I am. We all have our roles to play in this grand game of ours.” He stepped forward, his eyes fixed on hers. “And now, you have played yours. You have uncovered the truth that was hidden from you. You have seen the depths of my deception. So tell me, Sannet: what will you do with this newfound knowledge?”

"I will stop them... they can't be allowed to exist... no one should have power like that again." She says, her eyes burning with determination. Trazyn laughs: "How naive, you really think you can stop them?" He asks, his tone mocking. "They are beings beyond your comprehension, they have powers that make mine look like child's play."

Sannet’s eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. “Maybe you’re right, Trazyn,” she said, her voice cold, yet resolute. “Maybe they are beyond my comprehension. Maybe I am nothing compared to them.” She took a step closer, her finger jabbing against his chest plate. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to just stand by and do nothing. If I have to burn myself out to put a dent in their plans, then so be it.”

Trazyn raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. “Ah, the noble sacrifice. The desperate fight against overwhelming odds.” He clasped his hands behind his back, his tone shifting, almost as if he were lecturing a student. “You see, Sannet, the thing you fail to understand is that this is not a fight that can be won with sheer determination alone. It requires finesse, subtlety, and above all—patience.”

Sannet scowled. “You speak of patience, but all I see is a coward hiding behind his so-called plans, waiting for others to act while you stand back and watch.” Her voice trembled, a mixture of anger and frustration evident in her words. “You think your detachment makes you better, makes you above all of this. But it doesn’t. It just makes you complicit.”

The amusement vanished from Trazyn’s face, replaced by a flicker of something darker—anger, perhaps, or even a hint of regret. “You misunderstand my intentions, Sannet,” he said, his voice a low growl. “I have preserved countless histories, saved entire cultures from oblivion. I am not some reckless child chasing glory. I am the curator of existence itself.”

“Curator?” Sannet spat, her voice laced with venom. “No, Trazyn. You are a collector. A collector of memories, of lives, of pain. You call it preservation, but it’s nothing more than control. You took everything from me, and you think you’re justified because it’s all part of some grand design.”

Trazyn was silent for a moment, his gaze unwavering. Then, he took a deep breath, as if considering his next words carefully. “Perhaps you’re right, Sannet,” he finally said, his voice softer, almost... regretful. “Perhaps I am a collector, and perhaps my actions are driven by selfish desires. But what does that make you?” He tilted his head, studying her with those cold, mechanical eyes. “You are standing here, after all. Confronting me, instead of walking away. You care, more than you would ever admit.”

Sannet’s breath caught in her throat, her fury giving way to a pang of doubt. She clenched her jaw, her gaze dropping to the floor for just a moment. “I care... because I have to. Because someone has to clean up the mess you and the others left behind.”

“And that, dear Sannet, is precisely why I chose you.” Trazyn’s voice softened further, his tone almost gentle. “You may not believe it, but you are the one who can truly make a difference. I have pushed you, manipulated you, yes. But not out of malice. Out of necessity. You are the only one capable of stepping into the void where others fear to tread.”

Sannet looked up, her eyes met his eyes, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. “And what do you get out of it, Trazyn?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Why me? Why any of this?”

Trazyn paused, his gaze distant for a moment. “Perhaps... Perhaps it is because I see in you something I could never be. A hope I lost a long time ago.” His eyes focused on her again, the calculating coldness returning. “Or perhaps it is simply because I need you. And you need me, whether you admit it or not.”

Sannet took a step back, her expression pained. “I don’t need you,” she said, her voice trembling, though even she wasn’t sure if she believed it: "I need Minka... I need the people who truly fought alongside me."

"The Ravager?"

"No... the Minka that will agree with me to end this madness. The Minka who is your daughter. Who is countless more stronger than you are. You are nothing compared to her."

Trazyn’s expression tightened, his normally unshakable composure faltering for a brief moment. “Minka?” he repeated, his voice low, as though testing the weight of her name. His mechanical eyes narrowed, their glow faint but menacing. “You speak of my daughter as if she were your savior, yet she is but a shadow of what she could be—a fragment of potential, untapped and unrefined.”

Sannet’s hands balled into fists, her trembling replaced by defiance. “You’re wrong,” she said sharply. “Minka is more than just potential. She has the strength you never will. She has hope, compassion, and the will to fight for something greater than herself. Those are things you’ll never understand because all you care about is preserving a world you’ll never belong to.”

Trazyn’s voice grew cold, his words cutting like steel. “You speak of compassion as if it is a strength. But compassion does not win wars, Sannet. It does not save worlds. It weakens resolve, clouds judgment, and leads to ruin.”

“Spoken like someone who has never truly cared for anything but himself,” Sannet shot back, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her. “You think Minka is weak because she doesn’t cling to your twisted version of strength, but that’s exactly why she’ll succeed where you’ve failed.”

The room fell into an icy silence, the tension between them palpable. Trazyn stepped forward, his towering form casting a long shadow over Sannet. “If you truly believe Minka can end this madness,” he said, his tone measured but laced with menace, “then you should know she will face forces far beyond your comprehension. Forces that will consume her, break her, just as they have done to countless others.”

“Then I’ll stand with her,” Sannet said, her voice unwavering. “I’ll stand with her, and I’ll fight for what’s right. Unlike you, I won’t use her as a pawn in some endless, self-serving game.”

Trazyn’s lips curled into a thin smile, but there was no warmth in it. “Then you are a fool, Sannet. A sentimental fool, blinded by ideals that will only lead to your destruction.” He turned away, his voice echoing as he walked toward the far end of the room. “But perhaps you will find solace in your delusions. After all, every martyr needs a cause.”

Sannet watched him go, her chest heaving with unspent fury. “You’re wrong,” she called after him, her voice ringing with conviction. “Minka doesn’t need you, and neither do I. Your time is over, Trazyn. The future belongs to those who fight for something real.”

Trazyn paused at the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. “We shall see,” he said, his tone distant, almost dismissive. And with that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving Sannet alone in the vast chamber.

Sannet exhaled slowly, her anger subsiding into determination. She pulled out her communicator, her fingers trembling slightly as she activated it. “Minka,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. “It’s Sannet. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”