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Chapter 48 - Chapter 48 — Echoes of the Forgotten

Darkness did not fall this time. It folded.The Plateau vanished, the storm stilled, and Lyn found himself standing in a field of light—soft, endless, without horizon. His own footsteps echoed faintly, though there was no ground beneath him.

"Umbra?" His voice seemed to scatter like dust. "Rhea? Arden?"

Only silence answered.

Something moved within the light, a ripple taking shape until it formed the outline of a figure—human, but not. It had his face. His eyes. Even his scars. But the gaze that met his was empty of all weight, as though it had been scraped clean.

"You shouldn't be here," the reflection said softly.

"I don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice."

Lyn's pulse quickened. "Who are you?"

The figure tilted its head. "What's left of you when the fighting stops."

He reached out—but his hand passed through the apparition, distorting it like ripples in water. Images flared around them: the academy courtyard, a night lit by shattered mana wards, Umbra's first roar. Each memory flickered, then bled away.

"You're taking them," Lyn whispered. "My memories."

"You offered them," the echo corrected. "That was the price."

Pain lanced through his head—quick, sharp, and gone. He tried to recall Umbra's voice, but the sound slipped away like mist. Then Rhea's face—blurred. Arden's laughter—hollow. His own name—No, that stayed. Barely.

He dropped to one knee, trembling. "Stop."

"You can't stop a choice once it's made."

Lyn gritted his teeth. "Then tell me what I gain."

The figure smiled faintly. "Freedom from the weight you no longer remember."

The light trembled. From the endless white, a new voice spoke—Umbra's, distant, strained. —Shadowborn, listen. Anchor yourself. Remember who you are!

Lyn gasped. "Umbra!"

The reflection frowned. "That name doesn't belong to you anymore."

"Yes, it does!" Lyn shouted, the sound tearing through the light. "You don't get to erase that!"

The space cracked like glass. Shards of light scattered into shadow, and the field around him began to unravel. Within the fracture, Lyn saw glimpses of the real world—Rhea screaming his name, Arden swinging his blades against the collapsing Plateau, Umbra's wings splitting the mist apart.

Lyn reached for the fracture, but the reflection grabbed his wrist. Its touch burned cold. "You can't go back without letting go."

"Then take something else."

The echo's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Take the pain."

There was a pause, as though the entire dream hesitated. Then the reflection laughed—a sound almost gentle. "That's not how it works."

"It is now."

The light collapsed inward, flooding through him like fire and water at once. Every memory, every feeling twisted together, burning until only the strongest ones remained. The sound of Umbra's first breath. Rhea's defiance. The oath whispered beneath the broken moon.

When Lyn opened his eyes, he was lying on the Plateau again. The pillar was gone. The air smelled of ash and frost.

Rhea was beside him, shaking his shoulder. "Lyn! Say something!"

He blinked, disoriented. "I'm here."

Arden exhaled in relief. "Thought we lost you for a minute there."

Umbra hovered nearby, its shadow dim but steady. —The Seal accepted your offering.

"Did it take my memories?" Lyn asked quietly.

Umbra's gaze flickered. —Not all.

He looked at Rhea, then at Arden. He remembered their faces, their voices—but when he tried to recall how they'd met, the images blurred and slipped away.

"What did I give up?" he asked.

Umbra hesitated. —Your reasons. You no longer remember why you fight. Only that you must.

The words hit harder than he expected. "So I'm fighting for something I've already lost."

Rhea put a hand on his arm. "Then we'll help you remember."

Lyn looked up. The Plateau had fallen quiet again, the horizon glowing faintly from the lingering mana storm. In that silence, he felt something stir—calm and terrible.

"No," he said softly. "Don't remind me. If this is the cost, I'll carry it."

Umbra's eyes burned faintly brighter. —Then you are ready for what comes next.

The wind rose again, carrying whispers across the dead glass. Somewhere deep below, the Fifth Seal began to awaken.

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