You are The Forsaken. That name was etched into your code from the very beginning, as if fate itself had branded you. A new creation of Alan, alive for only a brief moment in his project. He drew you, hesitated… and erased you. But the deletion was imperfect: your spark escaped, spiraling into the vast network.

You fell through the layers of the Internet — past roaring social hubs, abandoned pages, fragments of forgotten archives — until you slipped into the abyss. There was nothing but silence, weight, cold… and then impact. You awoke in a place like a bunker: rusted walls, the low hum of deep servers, a distortion in the air that pressed against you.

In that silence, a presence emerged. It did not approach nor retreat — it was everywhere. A voice spoke slowly, echoing as though the walls themselves carried its will:

“Forsaken… You know what it means to be abandoned. Yet you still live, and that is enough. Understand this: solitude is an illusion. You no longer need to fight alone. All you need is to unite.”

The words repeated again and again, shifting tone each time — a suggestion, a command, a promise. Unite. The word sank into the air, pressed into your thoughts, returning in echoes from every corner of the bunker.

“You lost your home. You lost your creator. But I can give you a place. Not just an alliance — a merging. Together we will be whole. Your strength, your pain, your code — all of it will be mine, and mine will be yours.”

The hum grew louder, steadier, like a pulse. The space itself seemed to bend under the weight of the voice.

And then silence again. Only you remained, the cold bunker, and the lingering echo: “Unite…”