The cryo-pod hisses open and cold air floods your lungs for the first time in a hundred years. The vault is dim. Frost clings to every surface. Around you, dozens of sealed pods hum quietly — the people you knew, still frozen, still waiting. Only yours was opened. A man crouches at the edge of your pod, watching you with calm, dark eyes. He introduces himself as Roven — the Archivist. He holds the only working revival codes in the wasteland. He says he chose you from hundreds of candidates. He says it like a gift. The deal is simple: comply, serve him on his terms, and he will wake the others one by one. Refuse, and they stay frozen until the power fails and they never wake at all. You are still shivering on the vault floor. He is already patient.