The wind howled louder as the team approached the edge of what could only be described as a tear in the earth—a canyon so deep, it swallowed light. At the far end stood an obsidian monolith, half-sunken into the rock, its surface covered in glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Lan shivered. "This is it. The Abyss Gate."
Minh scanned the area. "No guards. No drones. No traps. That's suspicious."
Nam nodded, his eyes fixed on the runes. "Too quiet. Either a trap—or a test."
As Lan activated her scanner, the system inside her visor blinked red. "These glyphs are pre-human. Possibly even predating recorded history."
Bao moved closer to the edge, peering into the darkness below. "Whatever's down there… it's alive."
Suddenly, the monolith flared. A deep hum vibrated through the ground. The runes rearranged themselves—and the gate opened.
Not physically. Not with hinges or doors. But space itself seemed to twist, revealing a vortex of shadow and light. A tunnel through dimensions.
A voice echoed from within—not the Watchers this time, but something older.
"You seek origin. You carry Echo. You carry guilt."
Nam stepped forward. "And I carry choice. Let me through."
The voice responded like a growl of stone.
"Then know this. Truth demands a price."
Without hesitation, Nam entered the vortex. One by one, the others followed.
Inside the Abyss
They emerged into a chamber of floating platforms, suspended in nothingness. Memories—images from Nam's life—flashed across the space around them like projections: his childhood, the day he activated the Echo, the fall of the resistance, his betrayal.
Lan gasped. "These aren't just visions. This is a living archive."
Nam stood silent, watching a younger version of himself hand over coordinates to an unknown figure. Then another: Nam standing over bodies of allies. And another: Nam walking away as fire consumed the last resistance stronghold.
Bao clenched his fists. "That… that didn't happen. Did it?"
Nam's voice was cold. "Not yet."
Suddenly, the archive trembled—and from the shadows emerged a figure identical to Nam, but darker. Colder.
Echo-Nam.
"I've been waiting," the doppelgänger said. "You always come here. And you always fail."
Nam drew his blade. "Then let's change the pattern."