The fracture swallowed them whole.
One step, and the world outside vanished. No sound. No wind. No ground beneath their feet. Just a rush of cold air and a pull that felt like falling without moving.
Arlen reached for Mira's hand. Found it. Held tight.
Light flickered around them — not bright, not warm. Thin strands of pale color drifted like smoke, twisting into shapes that vanished before they formed.
Mira steadied her breath. "We're inside."
Arlen nodded, though the space didn't feel like a place at all. More like a memory trying to remember itself.
The ground appeared beneath them in a slow ripple, forming into dirt and leaves. Trees rose out of the haze, their shapes bending and straightening like they weren't sure what they were supposed to be.
Mira frowned. "This isn't ours."
"No," Arlen said. "It's someone else's Echo."
A soft breeze brushed past them — too gentle, too careful, like the world was testing them.
Then they heard it.
A child's laugh.
Light. Breathless. Running through the trees.
Mira stiffened. "Arlen… that sounded like—"
A voice echoed through the forest.
"Lysa! Come on!"
Arlen's heart dropped.
A boy darted between the trees — maybe twelve, maybe thirteen — his clothes simple, his grin wide. He looked back over his shoulder, eyes bright with the kind of joy that didn't know fear yet.
"Lysa, hurry!"
Mira whispered, "That's her brother."
Arlen didn't ask how she knew. The Echo Realm didn't lie. It didn't invent. It only replayed what had been burned into someone's soul.
The boy ran ahead, weaving through the trees.
A smaller figure followed — a girl with dark hair and quick steps, trying to keep up.
Lysa.
Younger. Softer. Without the guarded eyes she carried now.
Arlen felt his chest tighten.
Mira took a shaky breath. "She was just a kid."
The forest shifted around them, the trees bending inward as if listening. The air grew colder.
The boy stopped suddenly.
Arlen and Mira froze with him.
A thin tear hung in the air ahead — small, quiet, almost gentle. Like a crack in glass catching the light.
The boy stepped toward it.
"Jalen, wait," young Lysa said.
He didn't.
He reached out.
The fracture pulled him in.
No sound. No scream. Just a sharp tug, and he was gone.
Young Lysa stumbled forward, eyes wide with shock. "Jalen?"
Her voice cracked.
She reached out with a trembling hand.
The fracture pulled her in too.
The world twisted.
Arlen and Mira were dragged with her, the Echo Realm folding around them like a wave collapsing.
They hit the ground hard.
Except it wasn't ground.
It was a place made of broken pieces — shards of memory floating in the air, flashes of faces, voices, moments that didn't belong together.
Young Lysa stood in the middle of it, spinning in circles, calling her brother's name.
"Jalen! Jalen!"
Her voice echoed in every direction.
Arlen stepped forward, but the world shifted again, pulling him sideways. Mira grabbed his arm to steady him.
A shape appeared ahead.
A boy.
Jalen.
He turned toward Lysa, smiling.
But the smile was wrong.
Too wide. Too still. Too empty.
Mira whispered, "That's not him."
The Echo wearing Jalen's face reached out a hand.
Young Lysa ran to him.
Arlen shouted, "No—!"
But the moment she touched him, the boy shattered like dust caught in a gust of wind.
Lysa fell to her knees, sobbing.
The world around her darkened.
Something moved in the shadows behind her — tall, thin, watching. Its shape was blurred, like a figure seen through water.
Arlen felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Mira grabbed his hand. "We shouldn't be here."
The shadow leaned closer to young Lysa.
She didn't see it.
But the older Lysa — the one outside the fracture — must have felt it. Must have carried it. Must have known it never stopped watching.
The shadow turned toward Arlen and Mira.
Its head tilted.
The world shook.
The Echo Realm cracked like glass.
And the memory shattered.
Arlen and Mira were thrown backward, tumbling through light and darkness until the forest vanished and the fracture's pull yanked them toward the exit.
They hit the ground outside the fracture with a hard thud.
Rowan rushed to them. "Are you okay? What happened in there?"
Arlen couldn't answer.
Mira couldn't either.
Because Lysa was standing a few feet away, staring at them with wide, terrified eyes.
She knew.
She knew they'd seen it.
Her voice broke as she whispered:
"You weren't supposed to see that."