The forest edge felt different now.
Not just quiet — expectant. As if the trees themselves were holding their breath, waiting for Arlen to make the next move. The cracked sky pulsed again, faint but rhythmic, like a heartbeat syncing with something deep underground.
Mira stood beside him, shield strapped to her back, jaw set. "If that vision was real," she said, "then whoever that figure was… they're connected to you."
Arlen swallowed. "I don't want them to be."
The system chimed softly:
Foresight Trait: Resonance increasing.
Warning: Cognitive strain detected.
Recommendation: Limit trait activation.
Arlen rubbed his temples. "I'm not activating anything. It's doing this on its own."
"Then maybe step back from the spooky forest," Mira said, nudging him gently.
He almost smiled — then the world flickered.
Not a full vision. Not even a clear image. Just a pulse of sensation, like a whisper brushing the back of his mind.
A voice.
Faint.
Layered.
Impossible.
"You are not ready."
Arlen staggered. "Did you hear that?"
Mira shook her head. "Hear what?"
Arlen exhaled shakily. "The trait is talking to me now."
"Great," Mira muttered. "Love that for you."
The Mark Appears
A sudden sting shot through Arlen's palm.
He hissed and looked down.
A faint symbol was glowing beneath the skin — a geometric pattern of intersecting lines, pulsing with the same blue light as his Class Fragment. It faded after a moment, leaving only a faint warmth.
Mira grabbed his wrist. "What was that?"
"I don't know," Arlen said. "But it felt like… a mark."
The system chimed:
New Condition: Echo Mark (Unstable).
Effect: Unknown.
Origin: Unknown.
Risk Level: Elevated.
Mira frowned. "Why does everything you get come with a risk level?"
Arlen gave a weak laugh. "Because nothing about this is normal."
The mark pulsed again — a soft, rhythmic throb.
And then the world shifted.
The Echo Realm
Not a vision.
Not a dream.
Something in‑between.
Arlen stood in a vast, empty space of shifting blue light. Shapes flickered at the edges — memories, possibilities, futures that hadn't happened yet.
A figure stepped forward.
Not the cloaked one from before.
This one was… clearer.
Human‑shaped, but made of shimmering light, like a reflection on water.
Arlen's breath caught. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head.
"I am what remains," it said. Its voice echoed strangely, as if spoken through a broken mirror. "A fragment of a fragment. A memory of a path once walked."
Arlen frowned. "You're… part of my Class Fragment?"
"Yes," the figure said. "But incomplete. Damaged. Lost."
Arlen stepped closer. "What do you want from me?"
The figure's form flickered — once, twice — then steadied.
"To warn you."
Arlen's stomach tightened. "About what?"
The figure raised a hand, and the cracked sky appeared above them — but wider now, glowing with violent energy.
"The fracture is not an accident," it said. "It is a summons."
Arlen felt a chill crawl down his spine. "A summons for what?"
The figure's voice softened.
"For the ones who remember you."
Arlen's pulse spiked. "Remember me? I don't even know who they are."
The figure flickered again — this time violently, as if something was pulling it apart.
"You will," it said. "When the mark awakens."
Arlen reached out. "Wait—"
But the figure dissolved into light.
Back to the Village
Arlen gasped and collapsed to his knees. Mira caught him instantly.
"Arlen! Hey — stay with me."
He blinked hard, vision swimming. "I saw… something. Someone. A fragment of my Class. It spoke to me."
Mira steadied him. "What did it say?"
Arlen looked up at the cracked sky, now pulsing faster than before.
"That the fracture is a summons," he whispered. "And that something out there remembers me."
Mira's expression hardened. "Then we find out what. And we make sure it regrets it."
Arlen managed a shaky smile.
"Yeah," he said. "Together."
The mark on his palm pulsed again — brighter this time.
And somewhere deep in the forest, a distant answering pulse flickered back.
Somthing stirred in the dark.