Ren stood in the aftermath of his first victory, the fragments of the shade long gone. The stone beneath his feet still radiated with the cold of its presence, but the mark on his palm felt warm, alive. The words "[Trait Unlocked: Fear Ward]" had vanished, but the effect lingered, a thin barrier between his thoughts and the whispering dark. Something inside him had changed, and he wasn't sure if that was good yet.
The tower in the distance pulsed again, its crooked spire flickering with faint light like it was breathing in slow, shallow gasps. It stood alone in a sea of dark fog, surrounded by jagged stone spires and the ruins of broken archways. Whatever it was, Ren knew he had to go there. He began walking, the ground shifting beneath his steps like the landscape wasn't entirely fixed. Sometimes a path appeared just before his feet touched it, and sometimes the mist whispered names he didn't recognize, or his.
It took longer than it should have, but eventually Ren reached the base of the tower. It was taller than he thought, covered in creeping veins of black moss and carved with old symbols that throbbed like veins. A single stone door stood half-open, cracked just enough to tempt curiosity. Ren's curiosity was already dead, but instinct pushed him forward, along with the feeling that something was waiting inside.
He pushed open the door, and a long hallway stretched before him, lit by flickering orbs embedded in the walls. Faint echoes of footsteps drifted through the space, but they weren't his. Someone else was here. Ren slowed his pace, careful now, the mark on his palm tingling in resonance. Then he saw —a figure hunched near the far end of the hall, sitting on a crumbling stone bench, dressed in patchwork armor, a hood pulled low over it's face, it was human.
The figure's head titled signaling that it too had noticed him and without warning, the figure drew a blade out of thin air, its metal glinting in the flickering light of the orbs. Ren, still processing the sudden movement, barely had time to react as the figure lunged forward with a swift and deadly strike.
The blade sliced through the air with a sharp whine, heading straight for Ren's chest. In a split second, Ren dodged to the side, his heart racing with adrenaline. The figure didn't hesitate, following up with a flurry of rapid strikes, each one aimed at Ren's vulnerable spots. Ren stumbled backward, his eyes fixed on the blade as he desperately tried to avoid each attack.
Despite his lack of skill, Ren managed to dodge each strike by sheer luck and instinct. The figure's attacks were precise and calculated, but Ren's agility and quick reflexes allowed him to evade the blade's deadly path. The fight was intense, with both combatants moving swiftly through the hallway, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
The figure's blade sliced through the air, leaving trails of glittering sparks as it bit into the stone floor and walls. Ren leaped and dodged, his movements awkward but effective. He stumbled, his footwork sloppy, but he managed to avoid each attack by mere inches.
As the fight continued, Ren began to tire. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his legs trembled with exhaustion. The figure, however, seemed to be gaining momentum, its strikes becoming faster and more precise. Ren's dodges grew more desperate, his body twisting and turning in impossible ways to avoid the blade.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ren found himself cornered. The figure stood above him, its leg pressed firmly against Ren's chest, pinning him to the ground. Ren's eyes widened as he stared up at the figure, expecting the final blow.
But just as the figure was about to deliver the killing strike, it noticed something that made it pause. Ren's palm, still glowing with the mark of the Gatebearer, caught the figure's attention. The figure's gaze snapped to Ren's hand, and its expression changed from one of aggression to surprise.
With a sudden movement, the figure jumped off Ren's chest, backing away quickly. Ren gasped for air, his chest heaving with relief. He looked up at the figure, who was now standing several feet away, its eyes fixed intently on Ren's palm.
For a moment, the two simply stared at each other, the only sound the heavy breathing of the figure and Ren's own ragged gasps.
"You're new," it said, it's voice rough like it hadn't spoken in days. "Too clean. You just got pulled in."
Ren nodded slowly.
The figure dropped its battle stance and relaxed, extinguishing the air of hostility as it sat on a stone rubble.
"I'm Sera," she said, her voice low and mysterious as she slowly drew back her hood, revealing a striking visage. Her features were delicate yet bold, with high cheekbones and a slender jawline that framed her heart-shaped face. Her thick, brown wavy hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, contrasting starkly with her pale skin, which seemed almost translucent in the fading light.
Her lips, though chapped from the harsh environment, retained a soft pink hue that hinted at a rosier complexion beneath. But it was her eyes that truly captivated – piercing teal orbs that seemed to draw you in with an otherworldly allure. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, with a subtle sheen that suggested a life spent mostly indoors.
Despite her youthful appearance, there was an undeniable air of maturity about her, a sense of quiet confidence that belied her tender age. She was likely around Ren's age, perhaps a year or two older, but her poise and demeanor suggested someone who had experienced more than her fair share of life's trials.
"I apologize for attacking you like that I thought you were someone else." She said, "You... know what this place is?"
Sera, gave a dry chuckle. "More than you. Less than I need. Sera stood with effort, wincing as she shifted weight from one leg, a bandage around her side soaked red. "I've been stuck here for 304 days," they said.
"104 days?" Ren blinked. "It hasn't even been an hour for me." Sera gave him a look. "Time bends here. The deeper you go, the less sense it makes. You'll learn that. If you live long enough." Sera turned away, walking deeper into the tower, and Ren followed without needing to ask why.
As they moved, Sera spoke again. "This tower—it's called a Memory Keep. Every New Gatebearer gets drawn to one eventually. They hold the first answers. Maybe even the first lies."
"Answers to what?" Ren asked.
"To what the Echo really is," Sera said, glancing at him. "And what we really are."
They reached a central chamber, a large, circular room with a stone pedestal in the middle. Hovering above it was a small shard of glowing crystal—floating, spinning slowly. Sera stepped aside. "Go on. Touch it." Ren hesitated.
"What is it?"
"An Echo Shard," She said. "Your first real one. Not just fear. This one remembers something older. Something stronger."
Ren's hand hovered over the shard, the mark on his palm burning like fire. Then he touched it. Pain exploded in his skull, and flashes of imagery assaulted him—images of a knight made of living shadow, a great gate hanging in space, a thousand eyes watching from the dark, a man with no face laughing as the world burned. Then silence.
A new message burned in the air: "[Echo Shard Acquired: Fragment of the Whispering Stone]" "[Skill Unlocked: Shadow Step – Blink up to 10 meters through thin shadow.]" Ren collapsed to one knee, gasping. Sera smiled faintly.
***
A moment later Ren pressed his palms against the cold stone floor, he tried to center himself. Sera's voice was calm and soothing, "Don't fight it, let it settle." Ren gritted his teeth, his eyes still echoing with the images that had assaulted him.
"What... what was that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sera walked around the pedestal, her movements fluid and deliberate. "A memory," she said, "but not yours. The Echo feeds on what was lost, what was erased. Sometimes the fragments are harmless. Sometimes they come with scars."
As he stood slowly, his knees trembled beneath him. The glow on his palm had dimmed, but Ren could still feel something new inside him, something hungry. The words "Shadow Step" resonated in his mind, a sensation that was both familiar and foreign. Like he had always known how to do it, but had never had the key.
Sera leaned against the wall, wiping sweat from her brow. "So, what kind of shard was it?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as he hesitated.
"A Whispering Stone."
Her eyes widened slightly but She nodded, a low whistle escaping her lips. "That's higher than I expected. Your first shard and you get a named fragment? Either you're lucky... or cursed."
He didn't like the way she said that last word. "I don't feel lucky," he muttered. Sera's expression was unreadable.
"No one ever does in the Echo,".
As they rested in the chamber, the silence between them stretched long, but not uncomfortable. The stone didn't feel as cold now, or maybe he was just getting used to the chill of this place. After a while, Ren asked, "What is the Echo, really?" Sera didn't answer right away. She looked at the swirling mist through a cracked window in the chamber wall. The darkness moved in slow waves, as if watching them.
"No one knows," she said at last. "Some say it's a prison. Others, a graveyard. But I think... I think it's a memory of a world that shouldn't exist." She paused, her eyes glinting in the dim light.
"A world that died. Or never lived. Maybe both."
Eventually, they moved on. The tower had more levels, Sera said, but each one came with risk. The deeper you went, the stronger the fragments. And the more tempting their power became. She stopped in a narrow stairwell and looked at him seriously.
"Before we go deeper, try your ability." Ren took a deep breath, focusing on the dark corner at the far end of the stairwell. The shadows stretched like ink. He reached for them. And vanished.
For half a heartbeat, he was nowhere. Not moving—absent. Like a thought unspoken. Then he reappeared ten meters away in a burst of cold air. His knees buckled, pain shooting through his chest. Sera caught him before he collapsed. "Yeah," she muttered. "You used it wrong."
"I stepped," he wheezed.
"It worked."
"You forced it," she corrected.
"Shadow Step doesn't move your body—it tears the space between you and where you want to be. If you're not ready, you feel the backlash."
***
As they made camp in a half-broken hall near the upper spire of the tower, Sera shared dried food from her pouch. He asked more questions, and she gave him fragments in return. There were other Gatebearers, not many. Each one had a different Echo mark. Some burned with heat. Some pulsed with cold. His, she said, felt old.
Before they slept, she said one more thing. "You're strong," she muttered. "Stronger than I was on my first day."
"You sound surprised," Ren said. "I am," she replied. "Because strong ones don't last long here."
"Why?"
"Because they get arrogant," she said, moving toward the window. The fog pulsed again, and something large moved in the distance—hulking and slow. "They draw attention," she whispered. "To what?" Her answer was almost too quiet to hear.
"To the ones who remember the first Gate."