There's a moment after the fight when everything feels too quiet. Like the world's holding its breath, waiting for you to realize you survived. Or to notice what you lost in exchange.
For me, that moment never came.
The quiet never came.
Because ever since the Echo first woke, I hadn't had a single breath to myself. Not really.
Even now, walking through the cracked alleys of South Blackridge with my hood low and my shadow trailing too far behind me, I felt it… whispering. Stirring. Listening.
Like it was no longer inside me.
But beside me.
Arlen was waiting by the gate to our building, arms folded, face tighter than usual.
"Three unmarked Guild cars circled the block this morning," he said flatly.
I raised a brow. "They tailing us?"
"Not directly. But they're watching. And Crispin—" He stepped forward. "They're not watching like they're curious. They're watching like they're scared."
Inside the apartment, my sister ran to hug me. She was eight and already smarter than most adults. Her arms wrapped around me like I'd been gone for a year, not two days.
"Did you kill the bad ones?" she asked, eyes bright.
I hesitated. "Yeah. I did."
She beamed. "Did your shadow help again?"
I blinked. "What?"
"Your shadow," she said simply, like she was talking about the weather. "I saw it when you came home last week. It moved weird."
I glanced down. My shadow waved at her.
She giggled.
I did not.
That night, I didn't sleep.
Didn't blink much either.
The whispering had changed. It wasn't background noise anymore. It was language. Almost like… memory.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw ash falling. A sky full of it. Cities crumbling beneath black suns. And me—or someone wearing my face—standing in the center, surrounded by corpses and echoes.
Not monsters. Not humans.
Hunters.
[System Notice]
Memory Drift Engaged
Decaying Thread Recovered:
"Do not let them open the First Gate again. Not even you."
I jolted awake, sweat clinging to my back.
The Echo was already standing by the window.
Looking out.
Watching.
And behind it—just for a second—I saw another figure reflected in the glass.
Taller. Thinner. Cloaked in gold and voidlight.
It didn't move.
Didn't speak.
It just watched me.
And smiled.
Ten minutes later, the knock came at the door.
Arlen was already up, armed.
I nodded once. He flanked the entrance.
I opened it.
Three Guild agents stood outside — none of them in uniform. That was the first red flag.
The tallest one stepped forward. His eyes were the kind you didn't forget — not because they were scary, but because they looked like he'd already seen you die a hundred ways.
"Crispin David," he said, voice level. "You'll come with us."
"No," I said, deadpan. "Try again."
His smile didn't falter. "You misunderstand. That wasn't a request."
What happened next was fast.
Too fast.
Because the moment I took a step back into the hall—
my Echo moved on its own.
It leapt from the shadow beneath my feet — no command, no trigger — and grabbed the agent's hand mid-reach.
Then it spoke.
Its voice was mine but layered with something older. Deeper.
"Do not touch what belongs to the Ashborn."
The air split.
Literally — a vertical scar of dark energy tore open in the hallway behind me, sucking light and sound inward.
The agents froze.
Then the tall one did something unexpected.
He bowed.
Low. Respectful.
"I see. You've begun to Awaken."
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away. The others followed, silent.
Arlen shut the door slowly.
"What the actual"
"I don't know," I muttered. "But I think the Echo just... outranked them."
He blinked.
Then quietly said, "We're so screwed."
[Skill Alert]
Echo Manifestation Level III Unlocked
Trait Discovered: Ashblood (Dormant)
Warning: You are now being tracked by Tier 1 Entities