Chapter 28 – Echoes of Others
The rooftop beneath Thomas's feet was rough and weather-worn, just like the countless others he'd landed on during his late-night exercises. His breath fogged in the cold London air as he focused, closing his eyes. Echo, like a pulse, rippled silently from within him.
The world responded.
It always started as a hum in the back of his mind—then swirled into a map. Invisible lines connecting edges of buildings, scaffolding, alleyways. The rhythm of air between objects. The subtle shapes of rooms hidden behind concrete walls.
But today, something was different.
Just past the Thames, nestled between twisting alleys and old industrial buildings, there was a cluster of disruptions. Not just voids—these were creases. Warped folds in space, like rooms stacked atop one another in ways that defied physical construction. His instincts, honed from years of Echo use, told him this wasn't just a quirk of architecture.
Someone's been moving there. A lot.
He blinked—literally—and appeared on a neighboring rooftop for a clearer view, careful not to get too close. The distortions remained. Dozens of ripples. Faint traces, but familiar. Like Blink. Like Switch. Like me.
A shiver crept up his neck.
I'm not the only one.
That evening, seated on the edge of his bunk bed, Thomas relayed everything to Sister Mary. She listened quietly, her eyes on his, fingers laced in her lap.
"I think there are others like me. People who can do what I do. I saw it—no, I felt it. Through Echo."
Sister Mary exhaled slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You know… sometimes I forget you're still just a boy." Her smile was gentle, but her brow furrowed with concern. "You speak like someone three times your age. But you're still young, Thomas. Still learning."
Thomas looked down, guilt creeping into his voice. "I didn't mean to go that far. I just… wanted to see more. Push the limit."
"And you did," she replied, reaching out to touch his hand. "But did it feel safe?"
He hesitated. "…No."
"There's wisdom in that answer." She leaned back, eyes thoughtful. "You said you felt many of them? In one place?"
Thomas nodded. "It was concentrated. Like… they gather there. In one district. And they've done it so many times the space itself has become… unstable. Folded."
Sister Mary's face tightened. She didn't speak right away.
"Then you need to be careful," she said at last. "If you can detect them, it means there's a chance they can detect you too. And we don't know what kind of people they are."
"I thought that too," Thomas murmured. "But… they've never come here."
Sister Mary gave a half-smile. "Maybe they're good people. I hope so. But hope alone isn't a plan."
Thomas gave a sheepish smile. "You're right."
"Of course I'm right. I'm the adult," she teased, ruffling his hair.
He chuckled, but his smile faded just slightly. "Thanks… for listening."
Sister Mary turned serious again. "You've carried so much alone, Thomas. I'm glad you're not anymore. Promise me something?"
He looked up.
"No more rooftop leaps without at least telling me. I can't handle another 'oh I almost fell from a building' kind of story over tea."
He laughed. "Deal."
And deep down, he was grateful. Because now, he knew: his Echo was no longer just a tool. It was a window into a hidden world—and he wasn't alone in that world. But unlike the boy he was years ago, this time, he didn't have to face it alone either.