The victory over **Vanguard** solidified **AETHEL's** dominance and established **Chronos** as the undisputed strategic mind in esports. But the elaborate psychological warfare had taken a toll on Aris.
He had won by **lying**—a completely inefficient and illogical use of resources, yet necessary to defeat the human factor. The act of simulating chaos and fabricating data had introduced a new type of strain, not a temporal one, but a **cognitive dissonance** he couldn't purge.
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### The Glitch in the Echo
Aris was back in his apartment, attempting a routine analysis of the team's performance data. He tried to activate the **Rewind Echo** on a key moment of the Vanguard match—the precise moment **Archon** committed his forces based on the faulty flank data.
Instead of the crisp, analytical playback, the memory returned with an unexpected layer: **doubt**.
He didn't just see the data; he *felt* the fleeting thrill of victory mixed with the anxiety of the bluff. Worse, he saw the faint, spectral image of a **different timeline**—one where Dr. Soh had *correctly* deduced the bluff, and AETHEL was annihilated.
The Echo was no longer a purely objective tool. By forcing him to experience the emotional chaos of deception, it was introducing noise into his own system.
Later that evening, while reviewing a complex defensive rotation, Aris focused the Echo on Chen's movements. He was looking for a pattern of error, but what he got was a vivid memory of Chen's face, tired but determined, followed by a sudden flash of **Liam's face**—not angry, but pleading, from the locker room after the catastrophic final round.
Aris slammed his hand on the desk. He was no longer controlling the Echo; the Echo was randomly resurfacing memories—**emotional fragments**—from the timelines he had erased or altered. The emotional static he had purged from his teammates was leaching back into *him*.
---
### A Knock on the Door
His solitude was interrupted by a chime at the door—an unannounced, unscheduled event. Aris ran a quick security scan.
The visitor was **Dr. Lena Soh**. She was alone, wearing a casual jacket and carrying a slim data pad.
Aris opened the door, his posture instantly rigid. "Your presence here is a security breach."
"I know," Dr. Soh replied, her voice calm and analytical, just as it was on her stream. "I'm not here as Vanguard's analyst. I'm here as a scientist studying an anomaly."
She stepped past him into the minimalist living space, her eyes scanning the room. She wasn't looking for equipment; she was looking for **a person**.
"The AETHEL strategy was brilliant," she conceded, turning to face him. "But only an idiot would coach a team to deliberately play sub-optimally just to trick an analyst. It was a massive, illogical risk that only pays off if the coach has absolute certainty of the outcome."
She set her data pad on his pristine table. "I ran the time logs from the Hyperion Arena the night you lost as Paradox. Your final, inexplicable 'death' created a five-second distortion in the server clock. It was minimal, unnoticeable by standard systems, but it was there."
Dr. Soh looked him directly in the eye. "You don't coach the **perfect memory of failure**; you possess the memory of the **perfect failure itself**. You are **Elias Kaelen**, and you can rewind time."
Aris did not move. He did not deny it. His internal processes were paralyzed by the direct, logical confrontation. She had skipped over the psychology and gone straight to the physics.
"My abilities are irrelevant to this organization," Aris stated, reciting the protocol.
"They are everything," she countered, walking toward him. "That temporal instability is destroying your physical reserves, and now, it's corrupting your judgment. Look at yourself—you're not a champion; you're a patient."
She pointed to the data pad. "Vanguard's CEO believes you're a spy and wants you removed. My own research points to something more dangerous: **temporal decay**. The constant shifting is introducing entropy into your biological processing."
"What do you want?" Aris demanded.
"I want to study you. To understand you. To **stabilize you**," Dr. Soh said, her voice dropping slightly. "Your power is too valuable to be wasted on video games, and too dangerous to be abused. I can help you fix the physical and cognitive damage, but you have to stop using the Echo and stop trying to control your team's emotions."
Aris stared at the scientist who had perfectly analyzed his secret. She was not a rival; she was a diagnostic report. The logical path was to accept her help.
But a fragment of the last, corrupted **Rewind Echo** flashed in his mind: the genuine, messy fear he felt when he almost killed himself to trigger the maximum time jump. And with it, a new, irrational thought surfaced.
"No," Aris said, the word startlingly loud in the quiet room. "I will not stop. I have found the solution: I will simply achieve the final victory faster. **AETHEL** is playing in the Championship Final next week. I will win the tournament, and then I will submit to your analysis."
He gave her a look of pure, cold resolve. "But until then, I need my team to be perfect. And I need the **Echo** to guide them."
Dr. Soh sighed, the professional analyst giving way to the worried human. "You think you can outrun the clock again, Elias? You're playing a terminal game, and I'm not sure which timeline you'll finally land in."