The "neutral ground" was a rain-streaked café in the Neutral Zone, a place where the neon signs were burnt out and the coffee was strong enough to melt a spoon. Adrien and Leon sat in a corner booth, the encrypted drive plugged into a standalone, air-gapped laptop Adrien had built from spare parts.
"If this is a virus, we're toast," Leon remarked, nursing a black coffee.
"If it's what I think it is, we're already burnt," Adrien replied.
He hit 'Execute.'
The screen didn't show files. It showed a video feed. It was grainy, handheld, and the audio was distorted by the sound of high-velocity wind. It was a girl—red hair, sharp eyes, looking directly into the camera.
"Adrien. Leon. If you're watching this, the reset worked. Which means you don't remember me. And you don't remember the Facility."
Ashley's voice was a knife through the fog of their forgotten memories. Leon's coffee cup stopped halfway to his mouth. He stared at the screen, his breathing hitching.
"My name is Ashley. I'm an executive at Apex. Or I was. Right now, I'm a ghost. The drive contains the proof of Project Catalyst. It has the names of the Directors, the chemical formulas, and the location of the mass graves."
The camera panned to the side, revealing a girl with neon-pink hair who was currently trying to fit three gummy bears into her mouth at once.
"Hi, Goggles! Hi, Sleepy!" Lily waved at the camera, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "If you're seeing this, it means I successfully hid the breadcrumbs in your personal OS. Check the 'System Trash' folder. I left you a playlist. It's got a beat that'll wake up your brain. We're heading to the harbor. If you want the truth... meet us at Pier 9."
The video cut to black.
Leon stood up so fast his chair screeched against the linoleum. "Pier 9. I know exactly where that is."
"Leon, wait," Adrien said, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He opened the 'System Trash' folder Lily had mentioned. Inside was a single audio file titled: Operation_Chemistry_Final_Mix.mp3.
He hit play. It wasn't music. It was a rhythmic series of tones—a neural trigger.
As the sound filled the quiet café, the dam broke.
Adrien saw the glass shattering. He felt the cold of the server room. He felt Lily's hand in his.
Leon saw the armored monster. He felt the heat of the explosion. He felt the weight of Ashley in his arms.
They didn't just remember the facts. They remembered the feelings.
"Let's go," Leon growled, his eyes glowing with a faint, residual green light that shouldn't have been there. "We have a date at the harbor."