Light poured into Arlen's mind like a flood breaking through a dam.
Not physical light — something deeper, older, a resonance that bypassed his senses and went straight to the core of who he was. His thoughts scattered, then reformed, then scattered again as the chamber dissolved around him.
He wasn't standing anymore.
He wasn't falling.
He was remembering — memories that weren't his.
The First Echo
Arlen stood in a city of glass and light.
Tall spires rose into a sky unmarred by fractures. People walked along crystalline pathways, their bodies marked with glowing sigils similar to his own. They moved with purpose, confidence, belonging.
A woman approached him — tall, armored, her mark blazing like a star.
"You're late," she said.
Arlen blinked. "I don't—"
She didn't hear him. She wasn't speaking to him. She was speaking to the man whose memory Arlen was inhabiting.
"Convergence is accelerating," she continued. "If we don't stabilize the breach, the entire lattice will collapse."
Arlen felt the memory‑self nod. "Then we anchor."
The woman hesitated. "You know what anchoring does."
"Yes."
"And you're still willing?"
A pause.
A breath.
"Yes."
The memory shattered.
Mira's Memory
Arlen gasped as the world reformed around him — smaller, dimmer, familiar.
A cramped apartment. A flickering lamp. A girl sitting at a kitchen table, head buried in her arms.
Mira.
Younger. Smaller. Shoulders shaking.
A voice echoed from the hallway. "You can't keep running from responsibility, Mira!"
"I'm not running!" the younger Mira shouted back, though her voice cracked. "I'm trying!"
"You're not trying hard enough."
Arlen felt the ache in her chest — the crushing weight of expectation, the fear of disappointing everyone, the desperate need to be enough.
The scene blurred.
Shifted.
Mira again — older now, standing in the ruins of Thornwick after the first surge. Her hands trembled as she tried to help a wounded villager, but her voice was steady.
"I've got you. Stay with me."
Arlen felt her resolve harden — not because she wasn't afraid, but because she was.
The memory dissolved.
The Corruption
Darkness swallowed everything.
Not the absence of light — the presence of something else. Something hungry.
Arlen felt it coil around him, cold and familiar.
The corruption.
It whispered in a voice that sounded like his own.
"You can't anchor. You're broken."
Arlen clenched his fists. "Get out of my head."
"You let the Hunter touch you. You let its Echo inside. You're not a bearer. You're a mistake."
The darkness tightened.
Images flashed — the Hunter's dying eyes, the moment its imprint latched onto him, the way his mark had pulsed with something foreign ever since.
"You will fail her."
Arlen roared, pushing back with everything he had.
The darkness cracked.
Light burst through.
And Mira's voice cut through the void.
"Arlen! Don't listen to it!"
The Shared Space
The darkness shattered completely, revealing a vast, open expanse of shimmering light. Mira stood a few feet away, breathing hard, her mark blazing like a beacon.
Arlen stumbled toward her. "You're here."
"So are you." She grabbed his hand. "We're in the synchronization field. Our memories… they're merging."
Arlen swallowed. "You saw mine?"
She nodded. "And you saw mine."
Silence stretched between them — not awkward, but heavy with understanding.
Mira squeezed his hand. "You're not broken."
"You don't know that."
"I do." Her voice was firm. "Because I saw the moment the corruption touched you. You didn't choose it. You fought it then, and you're fighting it now."
Arlen looked away. "What if it wins?"
"Then I'll pull you back."
He met her eyes.
She meant it.
The Trial of Echo
The chamber reformed around them — but not the same chamber they'd entered. This one was larger, darker, filled with floating shards of memory that pulsed like beating hearts.
A voice echoed through the space — not the Titan's, not the System's, something older.
"Anchor candidates detected."
Mira stiffened. "This is the Trial."
Arlen frowned. "Trial?"
"It tests whether we can withstand the resonance required to seal the fracture."
"And if we fail?"
Mira didn't answer.
The shards around them began to spin, forming a vortex of light and shadow. Each shard contained a memory — some theirs, some belonging to the Echo Realm, some belonging to people long dead.
The voice spoke again.
"Trial One: Confrontation."
A shard shot forward, expanding into a full scene.
Arlen's heart stopped.
It was Mira — lying on the ground, motionless, her mark extinguished.
Arlen lunged forward, but Mira grabbed his arm. "It's not real."
"It feels real."
"That's the point."
The voice boomed.
"Anchor must face the fear of loss."
Arlen's breath shook. "I can't lose you."
"You won't." Mira stepped in front of him. "But you have to face the possibility. If you can't, the resonance will break you."
Arlen forced himself to look at the image — Mira dead, the world collapsing around her.
His chest tightened.
His vision blurred.
But he didn't look away.
The shard dissolved.
Trial Two: Reflection
Another shard expanded — this time showing Arlen, corrupted completely, his body twisted into a Hunter's form.
Mira flinched. "Arlen…"
The voice echoed.
"Anchor must face the fear of becoming the enemy."
Arlen stared at the twisted version of himself — hollow eyes, jagged limbs, a mark warped beyond recognition.
Mira stepped closer. "That's not you."
"It could be."
"It won't be."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're terrified of it." Mira touched his cheek. "People who fear becoming monsters don't become them."
Arlen exhaled shakily.
The corrupted version of himself dissolved.
Trial Three: Choice
The final shard floated forward.
It showed the fracture — massive, unstable, tearing the Echo Realm apart.
And Mira standing before it, alone.
Arlen felt his stomach drop. "No."
The voice spoke.
"Anchor must choose: sacrifice or survival."
Mira whispered, "This is the real test."
Arlen shook his head. "There has to be another way."
"There isn't."
"Mira—"
She turned to him, eyes shining. "Arlen… if anchoring means giving up my life, I'll do it."
"No."
"You can't stop me."
"I can join you."
Her breath caught. "Arlen—"
"We anchor together. Or not at all."
The chamber trembled.
The shards exploded into light.
The voice spoke one final time.
"Dual Anchor Accepted."
The chamber dissolved.
And the real fracture appeared before them.