The world didn't shatter all at once.
It wavered — like a reflection on disturbed water — as the Echo Titan stepped fully into the clearing. Its towering form bent the air around it, each movement sending ripples through the fractured sky above.
Mira stumbled backward, clutching her head. "It's too loud— I can't—"
But there was no sound.
Only resonance.
Arlen felt it vibrating through his bones, through the mark on his chest, through the very air he breathed. Lysa's mark pulsed in sync with his, the two of them caught in a harmonic loop they couldn't break.
The Titan lowered itself, massive limbs folding until its head hovered only a few meters above them. Its face was a shifting mask of light — no features, no eyes, yet Arlen felt it looking at him.
The System chimed, but the notification was distorted, glitching.
Ech— T—an: Syn—
Reco—gnition Protocol Initi—ated.
Sta—ndby.
Lysa whispered, "It's… kneeling."
Mira blinked through the pain. "Why would something that big kneel to us?"
Arlen didn't answer. He couldn't. The Titan's resonance was pulling at him, tugging at something deep inside his mark — something he hadn't known was there.
The Titan Speaks
Not in words.
In memory.
A flood of images hit Arlen all at once — a city of light, a sky unbroken, people marked like him walking among constructs of pure Echo. Then the rupture. A blinding tear across the heavens. Screams swallowed by silence. The first Hunters emerging from the breach, twisted echoes of those who tried to contain the collapse.
Arlen staggered, clutching his head. "Stop— stop—"
The Titan froze.
The resonance dimmed.
And then, for the first time, it formed a single, coherent word inside his mind:
"Bearer."
Arlen's breath caught. "You're… talking to me."
Lysa's eyes widened. "It recognizes your mark's lineage."
Mira frowned. "Lineage? Since when do magical tattoos have family trees?"
Lysa didn't look away from the Titan. "Since they were designed."
The Titan's Warning
The Titan raised one massive arm and pointed toward the cracked sky. The fracture pulsed, widening by a fraction — but enough to send a cold wave of dread through Arlen's chest.
The Titan's voice resonated again, clearer this time:
"Convergence… imminent."
Arlen swallowed. "What does that mean?"
Lysa's face drained of color. "It means the Echo Realm and our world are starting to overlap. Permanently."
Mira swore under her breath. "So… apocalypse."
"Not yet," Lysa said. "But soon."
The Titan shifted, its form flickering as if struggling to remain stable in their world.
"Anchor… required."
Arlen felt the pull again — stronger, more insistent.
Lysa grabbed his arm. "Arlen, don't. You don't know what it wants."
He did know.
Or at least, he felt it.
The Titan wasn't threatening them.
It was asking.
The Choice
Arlen stepped forward, ignoring Mira's shout and Lysa's grip slipping from his sleeve. The Titan lowered its head until its mask of light hovered inches from him.
His mark burned.
The Titan's resonance surged.
And the System finally stabilized enough to display a clear message:
New Quest: Anchor Point
The Echo Titan has identified you as a potential stabilizer.
Accepting will bind your mark to the fracture.
Consequences: Unknown.
Accept / Decline
Mira's voice cracked. "Arlen, don't you dare hit 'Accept.'"
Lysa shook her head. "If he doesn't… the Convergence accelerates."
Arlen stared at the glowing prompt.
The Titan waited.
The sky pulsed.
His mark throbbed like a second heartbeat.
And then—
A third mark ignited.
Not his.
Not Lysa's.
Mira gasped as a line of blue light seared across her forearm, forming a symbol neither Arlen nor Lysa had ever seen.
The System chimed again:
New Mark Detected: Variant Class
Status: Unstable.
Warning: Forced Awakening.
Mira stared at her arm, horrified. "What— what did it do to me?"
The Titan's resonance shifted.
Not kneeling now.
Bowing.
To her.
Arlen's heart dropped.
The System flashed one final message:
Anchor Point Reassigned.
And the Titan spoke a single word that changed everything:
"Chosen."