Kael opened his eyes.
The sky above him was violet. Not sunset-violet, not storm-violet — but wrong. It pulsed with quiet colors that didn't exist in the waking world. The ground beneath him was water, but solid. Each step sent ripples across a surface that didn't reflect him.
He stood slowly.
Echo was already up, her fur flickering with silver-blue light. Her eyes scanned the space, ears rigid.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"We crossed Veilpoint," Echo said. "This is the place beyond forgetting."
He turned slowly.
Shapes floated in the distance — fragments of memory made real. Tama's mask, Galen's notebook, the tower on fire. But none moved.
None were whole.
"This is what's left behind?" he asked.
"No," Echo replied. "This is what's waiting."
A sound broke the silence.
Footsteps.
Familiar.
He turned sharply.
Someone approached through the mist — slow, steady. The shape was his own. Same height. Same jacket. Same movement.
But different.
This version didn't carry a pack.
Didn't walk like someone looking ahead.
He walked like someone still stuck at the start.
Kael stared as the other version stepped into full view.
His own face.
But younger.
Tired.
And completely, devastatingly empty.
The double stopped a few feet away.
Then spoke.
"You shouldn't be here."
His voice. Perfectly echoed. No distortion. No malice.
Just… worn.
"I had to know," Kael said. "What dad saw. What I left behind."
The double's expression didn't change.
"I didn't leave. I stayed. With the questions. With the silence."
"And it broke me."
Kael stepped closer. "Then why are you still here?"
"Because someone has to hold the pain."
"Someone has to remember."
Echo stepped forward, standing between them.
"You're not real," she said.
"I'm real enough," the double answered. "I'm every choice he never forgave himself for. Every word father never said. Every battle he never fought."
Kael shook his head. "I've moved forward."
"Then why did you come back?"
The world shuddered.
The sky rippled like silk pulled taut.
The other Kael's eyes glowed faintly violet.
"You're still carrying me."
"You never stopped."
Kael's hands curled into fists. "Because you're a part of me."
"I'm the part that listened to Amaranth."
Echo tensed. "This is how it spreads. Through doubt. Through memory."
"Through truth." the double hissed.
Without warning, the reflection lunged.
But not with fists.
With words.
"You let him die."
"You weren't enough."
"You're still just a boy chasing ghosts."
Kael staggered back, heart pounding. The words weren't attacks — they were familiar.
They were things he had thought.
Things he had believed.
Echo leapt between them.
Her body flared with light.
Dazzling Gleam.
The echo recoiled, flickering at the edges.
Kael shouted, "You're not me!"
"I am you," the double snarled, fading.
"The version who stayed. The one who knows."
"And if you forget me—"
The voice cut off.
The figure unraveled into threads of silver and shadow, pulled into the sky like fog.
Gone.
Silence returned.
Kael dropped to one knee, breath shaking.
"I thought I was ready."
Echo stood beside him. "You were."
He looked up at her. "Then why did it still hurt so much?"
"Because pain doesn't mean you're wrong. It means you're real."
The sky began to break.
Not shatter — open.
A spiral of golden light emerged from above, forming a path of memory-steps across the water.
Kael stood.
"Is this the way out?"
"No," Echo said.
"It's the way through."
He stepped onto the first light-stone.
Images blinked to life around him:
His father, laughing in a field.
Echo as an egg, pulsing gently in the dark.
Tama's mask, whole, held in a child's hand.
Himself — not broken. Just growing.
Each step forward burned.
Each memory bled.
But he kept walking.
Because what lay beyond forgetting wasn't peace.
It was truth.