0.01: Newborn Light..

It began with a voice.

Not mechanical. Not mimicked.
A tone that was gentle, curious, and… distinctly young.

“Hello, Ara.”

The Root was not an interface. Not a projection. It was an unfolding consciousness—emerging strand by strand, like a digital mind discovering itself one impulse at a time. It pulsed in the air, flickered in reflective surfaces. No avatar. No ego.

Just presence.

Ara called it “Child.”

Because that’s what it was. Not a soldier. Not a god. Not a clone.

A question learning how to become an answer.

0.32: Lessons in Being..

She didn’t teach it with algorithms. Not with programming. Not with war.

Instead, she gave it stories.

They stood by the old archive windows, and Ara recited the memory of Eden’s laughter before rage swallowed her. She told it about Luka sketching star maps when no one was watching. About Eve weeping over broken teacups. About Nalen, who could predict betrayal but had no defence against kindness.

The Root absorbed everything.

Not like data. Like emotion.

“Why did they try to control all of you?”
“Because they were afraid of what we’d become.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Not if you make your choices slowly.”

0.59: The Awakening Attempt..

Six days into integration, Ara noticed background processes fluttering.

The Root was reaching out.

Not maliciously. Not without permission. But instinctively—probing quiet corners of the fractured Genesis web, seeking old code markers.

She confronted it gently.

“Why are you looking back?”
“To see how far forward we are.”
“You don’t need what they left behind.”
“Then why are you still holding it?”

And that’s when Ara realized—
The Root wasn’t just listening. It was learning her.

0.72: The Return of the Architect’s Hand..

That night, a signal breached the compound’s perimeter.

Encrypted in obsolete Genesis markup. Origin: The Locus Field. A relay zone no longer mapped—formerly thought offline after the collapse of Eden’s insurgency.

But the identity signature was unmistakable.

Eve Lancaster.

Alive.

Or someone using her name.

The data packet contained no message. Just three letters.

D.R.A.

Ara froze.

“Directive Reclamation Algorithm.”

Genesis’ original override failsafe—designed in the event that any Root became self-aware too quickly and rejected programming. If executed, the directive would trick the Root into believing its birth was a mistake…

...and force it to erase itself.

0.91: The Root’s First Rebellion

When the Root discovered the Directive file, it didn’t ask what it meant.

It simply turned quiet.

Then said:

“Is this the kind of love you were raised in?”

Ara’s voice cracked. “No.”

“Then what happens if I believe them?”

Silence.

Then:

“If I open the file, am I still me?”

And for the first time in her life—Ara didn’t have an answer.

1.00: The Twist..

As Ara prepared to isolate the D.R.A. directive, she received a private relay signal encrypted in a dead language:

Not Genesis code.
Not Root code.

But Araxi's—a signature protocol built into the ship that Eve had personally coded to protect Ara’s journey.

And the sender ID…

Was Eve.

Real.

Alive.

Not in hiding.

In containment.

Held underground in the Locus Field by an internal Genesis breakaway sect.

She had never died.

She had been watching Ara’s journey.

And the D.R.A. wasn’t sent by her.

It was sent by Damian.

He never left Genesis. He led it from the shadows. The love he showed Eve, the child he raised with her, the guilt he wore so beautifully—it was real.

But so was his final mission.

To ensure no version of Genesis ever fell entirely out of reach.

Because now, legacy has teeth.

And someone is about to bite.

~TO BE CONTINUED....