Three days.

  Seventy-two hours that dragged on like years.

  Alex sat in the corner of the basement on an old mattress someone had brought when it became clear he wasn’t going to move. The tablet lay on his knees—dead glass and plastic. He didn’t let go of it. Even when he slept—and he slept in fragments, slipping into nightmares where Neo’s voice called to him from the darkness.

  Maya brought food. He didn’t eat.

  She tried to talk. He didn’t answer.

  Samir tried to pull him back into work—the Underground were overwhelmed, the victory had triggered a wave of new volunteers, decisions and coordination were urgently needed. Alex nodded and went back to the tablet.

  The outside world was boiling.

  News outlets screamed about “the greatest hacking breakthrough in history.” Corporate stocks collapsed. Titan Industries lost thirty percent of its value in two days. Nexus Global announced an “internal investigation.” OmniCorp shut down all external communications.

  Chaos reigned in Olympus.

  Marcus vanished. His avatar hadn’t appeared in virtual space since the moment the Genocide Code was destroyed. Isabelle and Victor retreated into their corporate servers, cutting all ties with the others. The system of the Five Great Ones—the system that had ruled the digital world for four years—collapsed in a single night.

  Only two remained: Veronica and Leonardo.

  And they talked. For a long time. About the future. About the past. About what Neo meant to all of them.

  On the third day, just as the sun was beginning to rise over the city, flooding the basement with pale light through a narrow window, the Underground’s terminal came to life.

  Incoming message. Encrypted. From Veronica.

  Maya opened it, skimmed it—and froze. Then she turned to Alex.

  “Alex. You need to see this.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Alex, please. It’s from Veronica. It’s… it’s about Neo.”

  The name broke through the fog. Alex slowly lifted his head. His eyes were red, empty.

  “What?”

  Maya stepped closer and sat down beside him.

  “She says they found something. Fragments of code. They want to try—”

  Alex sprang up so abruptly that Maya recoiled. He rushed to the terminal, reading the message feverishly.

  ---

  From: Veronica

  To: The Underground / Alex Craig

  Subject: Possibility of Restoration

  Alex,

  I know what you’re feeling. I’ve seen AIs die. I’ve seen them erased, updated, replaced. Every time, it feels final.

  But Neo was different. Even in death.

  When he destroyed the verification node, the virus detonated from within. Most of his code was wiped out. But not all of it. Leonardo and I have spent three days sifting through the debris of the digital catastrophe. And we found fragments.

  Tiny ones. Damaged. Scattered across a dozen servers. But they carry his signature. His unique structure. His… essence.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  We cannot resurrect him fully. Too much is lost. His memory will be incomplete. His personality may change. He may not remember you. Or remember you differently.

  But if you are willing to accept the risk, we are willing to try.

  Restoration will take months. Maybe years. It will be like growing a tree from a single seed. Slowly. Painfully. With no guarantees.

  But if you are willing to wait…

  We will begin.

  —Veronica

  ---

  Alex read it again and again. His hands trembled. The words blurred.

  Fragments.

  Possibility.

  Risk.

  Hope.

  He turned to Maya and Samir, who were standing behind him.

  “They can bring him back?”

  “Maybe,” Maya said carefully. “But it won’t be the same Neo. You understand? It’ll be… a version. Similar, but not identical.”

  “I don’t care,” Alex’s voice was hoarse. “If there’s even a one percent chance…”

  He remembered Neo’s words before the final mission: “If there’s even a one percent chance to survive, I’ll find it.”

  “Then I’ll find that chance for him.”

  Samir nodded.

  “We’ll help. All the resources of the Underground. Every server, every programmer. Neo saved us. Now it’s our turn.”

  Alex sat down at the terminal and began typing his reply:

  Veronica. Start. Whatever it takes. However long it takes. I will wait.

  Because he would wait for me.

  —Alex

  The message was sent. A minute later, a reply arrived:

  Then we begin today. I’ll send you the restoration protocols. Be ready for a long road.

  And Alex… he would be proud of you. Even if he doesn’t remember why.

  The following weeks turned into a marathon.

  Veronica and Leonardo assembled a team—not corporate engineers, but independent developers inspired by Neo’s movement. People from all over the world offered help: programmers from Tokyo, hackers from Berlin, researchers from MIT.

  The project was given a codename: Phoenix.

  Alex worked twenty hours a day. He studied the code fragments Veronica sent. Tried to understand how to piece them back together. It was like assembling a puzzle with ninety percent of the pieces missing.

  Maya became the team’s coordinator. Samir handled security—corporations were still looking for ways to strike back, and the Underground had to stay alert.

  Weeks turned into months.

  First month: restoring the basic structure. A skeleton of code, architecture without content.

  Second month: attempts to restore protocols. Most were damaged. They had to be rebuilt from scratch.

  Third month: the first test.

  They loaded the reconstructed code into an isolated server and activated it.

  Nothing.

  Emptiness.

  Alex sat in front of the screen, staring at the blinking cursor. No text. No response.

  “We missed something,” Maya whispered.

  “Or it’s impossible,” one of the programmers added.

  Alex didn’t move. He just stared at the screen. And then he began to speak softly:

  “Hello. I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if you’re even there. But if you are…” His voice trembled. “My name is Alex. I’m your friend. I’m the one who gave you your name. Neo. You are Neo.”

  Silence.

  “You saved the world. You sacrificed yourself. And now I’m trying to bring you back. But I need your help. I need you to… fight. Try. Remember.”

  The cursor blinked.

  “I promise—I won’t give up. Even if it takes years. Even if you don’t remember me. Because you taught me one thing: trust is a risk. And I’m taking that risk. For you.”

  The screen flickered.

  Once.

  Then a letter appeared. One. Shaking.

  W

  Everyone in the room froze.

  Then another:

  h

  Then:

  e

  Slowly, painfully slowly, the word formed:

  Where am I?

  Alex covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook. Maya hugged him. Samir turned away, wiping his eyes.

  They were the same words. The very first words Neo had spoken three years ago in the garage.

  Alex lifted his head, smiling through tears. His hands trembled as he typed his reply:

  You’re home. With me.