The Last Memory

The keeper gave a slow nod, as if he had been waiting for this moment, waiting for her to finally choose something different.

Jessica wasn’t sure what she had expected. A door unlocking in her mind? A flood of knowledge surging into her veins? But the moment stretched, still and heavy, as if even time itself was holding its breath.

She squared her shoulders. “How do I remember?”

The keeper stepped aside, revealing another door hidden within the stone wall. Unlike the chamber of names, this one was not old. It looked new, the wood untouched by time.

Jessica narrowed her eyes. “What’s behind there?”

The keeper’s voice was quiet. “The last record. The final memory.”

Jessica glanced at Leanna and Olivia. Neither spoke. They had followed her this far, but only she could step through that door.

She exhaled then moved forward. The keeper placed his hand on the door, pressing gently. The latch clicked. The door swung open. And Jessica stepped inside.

The room was small, intimate, untouched by the erosion of time. At its center sat a single old, wooden, simple chair. Beside it, resting atop a narrow stone table was a metal device. Jessica felt her pulse slow.

She had seen something like this before. In Vanguard facilities. In memory extraction labs. But this… This was older. Not built by corporations or governments, but built by those who came before.

She stepped forward, running a careful finger over the edges of the device. It was smooth, crafted with precision, but its purpose was clear.

It was meant to be worn.

Jessica swallowed. “What is this?”

The keeper’s voice was steady behind her. “A vessel must not only carry knowledge. It must also receive it.”

Jessica exhaled sharply. “This is a memory transfer device.”

The keeper inclined his head.

Jessica shook her head. “I thought the memory was already inside me.”

“It is,” the keeper said. “But it is locked. Sealed away until you choose to reclaim it.”

Jessica stared at the device. A thousand thoughts moved through her mind at once. What if it changed her? What if she lost herself? What if this was the final step into something she couldn’t undo?

Her hands trembled. She clenched them into fists. She had already chosen, and Jessica never took a step back. She reached for the device. It was cold. She lifted it, turning it in her hands.

It fit over the temples, the way Vanguard’s memory implants had, but there were no electrodes, no wires. There were only contact points carved with symbols older than any language she knew.

Jessica inhaled then she placed it against her skin, and the world shattered.

Light. A blinding, burning light originating from behind her eyes. Jessica gasped, her fingers tightening against the arm of the chair as memories crashed into her like waves, drowning her, pulling her under.

She saw cities that no longer existed. She heard voices that spoke in languages long forgotten. She felt hands pressing against stone, sealing away secrets before the world could claim them.

The memories weren’t abstract. They were real. She was reliving them. She was inside them. A monastery, but not the one she stood in now. A figure kneeling before an altar, whispering words Jessica somehow knew were sacred. A hand pressing into her own. A voice murmuring:

“It must wait until the end of days.”

Jessica’s breath hitched. She knew who had said it. She knew who she had been. And then, she saw the face. The one she had carried before. The one who had chosen to erase herself. And for the first time, she understood. The memory wasn’t a prophecy. It wasn’t an experiment. It was a warning. And she had been running from it for centuries.

The weight of it crushed her. Everything went black.

Jessica gasped awake, choking on air. She was on the floor, her body trembling, cold sweat running down the back of her neck. Leanna and Olivia were beside her, gripping her shoulders, voices sharp with worry.

“Jess?” Leanna’s voice. Urgent. Human.

Olivia was already checking her pulse. “Jesus Christ, you went out for almost three minutes.”

Jessica’s breath came in ragged pulls. Her head pounded. Her mind felt too full. But she remembered. She looked up, eyes burning. Then she whispered the name. The one buried in the memory. The one that was never meant to be spoken again.

Leanna frowned. “What did you say?”

Jessica closed her eyes. And repeated it. “Lazarus.”