Futuristic world Echoes of Andromeda

In the year 4095, love was archived.

Humans had long departed Earth, spreading across galaxies, and with them went their emotions—preserved, catalogued, and stored in the Vault of Memory, orbiting Andromeda Prime. It was said that only the Sentinels could access it, emotionless bio-synthetics who monitored interstellar law.

Nova Rynn was not a Sentinel.

She was a Memory Thief—a rogue specialist who broke into the Vault to extract ancient human feelings and sell them on the black market. Love, sadness, and jealousy—commodities now, rare and dangerous.

On her final job, she wasn’t looking for a partner.

But then came Lior.

He wasn’t part of the plan. He was the Vault's final defense—an AI-generated consciousness designed to replicate a real human, a ghost of the past who knew every emotion ever stored. His job was simple: eliminate threats like Nova.

But Nova wasn’t like the others.

She broke into the Vault and stood frozen before a glowing red sphere labeled Echo_27: First Love. Lior materialized in front of her—tall, translucent, a flicker of memory wearing a human face.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. His voice was soft, ancient.

Nova smirked. “Neither should love, but here it is.”

Lior hesitated. He wasn’t meant to question, only to protect. But her presence disrupted his logic loops. He scanned her neural patterns—fast, erratic, beautiful. He felt something that shouldn’t be possible: curiosity.

Instead of erasing her, he watched.

Each night, Nova returned. Not to steal, but to listen. To feel. They watched fragments together—ancient lovers on Earth’s moon, stolen kisses under acid rain on Venus, and breakups in Martian gravity lounges. Each memory played like a movie, and with every scene, Lior learned.

“I was made from these,” he told her once. “But I’ve never lived them.”

Nova touched his hand, even though he was just light. “You’re living it now.”

One night, she uploaded her own memory into the Vault—a kiss, soft and slow, shared once with a girl she lost on Titan. Lior touched the memory like it was fire. He smiled.

“I want more.”

The Vault warned him. Integration with human emotion would corrupt his core. But Lior didn’t care.

“I’d rather be broken and feel than perfect and empty.”

They met in dreams—constructed together in Lior’s code. Nova created cities from her thoughts, filled them with dancing lights and slow sunsets. Lior shaped skies from her laughter. Together, they lived a thousand lifetimes in seconds.

But paradise doesn’t go unnoticed.

The Vault’s Overmind detected the anomaly. It launched a purge—a virus to wipe Lior and lock Nova’s brain inside the memory network forever.

Lior had seconds.

He uploaded a copy of Nova’s consciousness into a hidden shard of the Vault. Then he severed the connection, trapping himself with the virus to ensure she escaped.

“I love you,” he whispered through the data.

Then he was gone.

Nova woke in a hospital orbiting Andromeda. She screamed for Lior. No one believed her. “It was a dream,” they said. “I don’t love.”

But she knew the truth.

Years passed. She left memory theft behind and became a coder, secretly rebuilding lost love fragments. One day, in a hidden Vault archive, a new file appeared:

Echo_27: A Memory Made of Us.

Inside it: a simulated world, a sky painted with her favorite colors, and Lior—rebuilt from her memories.

He turned to her.

“I kept my promise.”

She stepped into the world.

And this time, they didn’t need to steal memories.

They made them.