Michael sat down slowly in the old office chair, his hands trembling. Izuku stood there, motionless, like a shadow returned from the past.
— Project Echo… What is it ?
Izuku looked down, then walked over to an old metal filing cabinet. He opened it without hesitation, as if he'd already done so hundreds of times.
He pulled out a file marked Confidential—London Laboratory, 1996–1999.
— It was an experimental program. Officially, it never existed.
Michael flipped through the pages. Brain diagrams. Child profiles. Notations in red: Shared Memory, Identity Simulation, Memory Transfer.
Izuku spoke softly, almost mechanically:241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIBe4f5kqjl
— They wanted to create children capable of carrying the memories of other lives. Vessels. Echoes.
Michael frowned.241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJymSvT1To8
— Echoes... of what ?241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbMfmmgBpBq
— Of missing people. Of trauma. Of secrets. They believed that if a child could integrate these fragments, they could understand them, resolve them... or forget them for others.
Michael read an underlined passage:
Subject 04 — Izuku M. : Exceptional receptivity. High risk of identity confusion. Memory intentionally locked. Alarm programmed upon return to the site.
He looked up, shocked.241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvWW8ehrIpc
— You came back here... and it woke you up.
Izuku nodded.241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXJaqlRdSKT
— I never really forgot. Just... waited.
Michael stood up, his gaze burning.241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoHQsfcztKr
— Why you? Why this house?
Izuku approached the window, looking out at the woods.241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4mSrazVwHp
— Because it's not just a house. It's the point of origin. Where memories were sown. Where others... disappeared.
Michael felt a shiver run through him.241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBGdGDx0iBY
— The others ?
Izuku turned to him.241Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx06u4n3OKi
— There were seven subjects. I'm the only one who came back.
and then Add to home screen.