The air hung thick with the scent of ozone and decay as Elara navigated the labyrinthine alleys leading to the Obsidian Market's underbelly. The memory shard, a shimmering sliver of amethyst, pulsed faintly in her pocket, a constant reminder of the rendezvous. It belonged to Silas, a name whispered in hushed tones amongst the memory brokers, a name synonymous with the Architects and the darkest secrets of the city. He was the key, she believed, the key to unlocking the final pieces of her fragmented past.

The rendezvous point was a dilapidated warehouse, its walls scarred with graffiti and the ghosts of forgotten transactions. Inside, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and the nervous energy of illicit dealings. Silas sat alone at a scarred wooden table, a single flickering candle illuminating his sharp, hawk-like features. His eyes, the color of weathered stone, held a chilling intensity that sent a shiver down Elara's spine. He didn't speak, didn't offer a greeting, simply gestured to the chair opposite him.