The orb's light dimmed to a soft, steady pulse as Qin Shui wrestled with the storm swirling inside him. The voice of the Echo echoed faintly like distant thunder, leaving him with more questions than answers.
"Chosen. Path. Price…" he whispered, feeling the words weigh heavy in the cool night air.
He glanced around the ruins. The city's glow was a distant heartbeat beyond the cracked temple walls, but here, silence reigned like a sentinel.
What power is this? Qin Shui wondered. How could a boy without magic or wealth ever hope to wield such a thing?
His fingers still tingled from touching the orb, and a strange warmth bloomed beneath his ribs—a feeling alien yet strangely natural.
Suddenly, a faint shimmer appeared near the orb, barely visible to the naked eye. In the darkness, glyphs floated into the air—a swirling script of light that danced like embers. They formed a map, a pattern, and then vanished as quickly as they appeared.
"Learn," whispered the voice softly. "First you must understand. Without knowledge, power is but a blade without a hilt."
He swallowed hard.
"How?" he asked quietly.
The orb's glow flickered out.
Qin Shui blinked, the moment of magic slipping away like smoke.
It was only him—and the silent ruins.
Deep in the slums, life waited for no dreams.
Back in his cramped apartment, the sounds of the city's pulse edged through cracked walls—distant chatter, the hum of vehicles, and the ever-present electric drizzle that soaked the night.
Qin Shui lay on his threadbare mattress, eyes tracing the ceiling cracks. The orb's secrets pressed against his mind, both thrilling and terrifying.
If this power is real… if I can learn — maybe I can change everything.
Before sleep could claim him, a harsh knock rattled the door.
"Qin Shui! You're late!" his mother's tired voice called. "No magic or tech will fill your stomach; you still have to work tomorrow!"
He sighed, shadows deepening inside him.
"Yes, Ma," he murmured. One day, I'll show you.