The capsule hissed, releasing a plume of silver mist that curled like smoke around the cold metal walls. The soft glow inside faded as the mist dissipated, revealing a small figure lying motionless on a bed of synthetic fibers.
Echo stepped closer, heart pounding so fiercely it felt like it would shatter his ribs.
"That's... me?" His voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.
Aurora stood beside him, her eyes never leaving the chamber. "Not you. Someone else. Someone made like you... but different."
The room was silent except for the faint hum of machines working tirelessly to keep the chamber alive.
Then, slowly, the child's eyelids fluttered.
Reverb's eyes snapped open—icy blue and unblinking.
The air around them seemed to shift. A sudden, suffocating cold wrapped the room like a vise.
Reverb's gaze locked onto Echo, unyielding, calculating.
"Why am I here?" the boy's voice echoed—calm, unnervingly mature for a child so small.
