Kane stood in the secluded healing room of the Academy, the raw-hide door sealed behind him. Linia, her infected hand now wrapped in Shakti's herbal poultice, sat patiently on a low stool. Kane turned his head slightly toward the empty space beside him and spoke in a low, conspiratorial murmur.
"Missy, you can come out now."
A faint, shimmering distortion rippled in the air, a momentary vacuum in the room's light. Then, Missy, coalesced, stepping out from the impossible confines of Kane's Soul Sea. She was a grotesque mirror image of her former self—transparent, constantly shifting, her voice an eerie, breathy resonance.
She looked around the sturdy, earthen room, her spectral form casting no shadow. "It is... good," she echoed, her voice sounding like glass shards rubbing together. "But why did you tell me to stay inside your Soul Sea? It is dark and cold, and I can hear your fear."
"Talking Echoes attract unwanted attention," Kane replied, his eyes sharp and calculating. "It is much better for you this way. This settlement is built on secrets. The less visible firepower we display, the better."
Linia watched the exchange, used to the unsettling familiarity of the talking shade. "Well, what is the plan now? We failed to cure the Husk-Blight with her 'divine' fire."
Kane thought for a moment, the necessary steps calculated with grim efficiency. "You will be staying here and will be getting treatment from Shakti, primarily for pain management and to slow the spread of the infection. For one week, I will operate out here. Then, we travel to the Dawn Shard location. Familiarize yourself with this area and its people, but stay near the Academy and Shakti."
He looked at the Echo. "Until the Expedition starts, stay inside my Soul Sea. No more unauthorized appearances."
Missy's spectral form gave a reluctant, shimmering nod. After a brief, chilling discussion of battle strategies, the Echo dissolved, sinking back into the invisible, terrible depths of Kane's consciousness. He left Linia in the careful hands of Shakti, the only other person in this city he trusted implicitly.
Kane left the Academy and began to roam around the perimeter of the outer settlement. He noticed something immediately: the environment felt watched. As people greeted him—a torrent of excited whispers and respectful nods.
More importantly, he noticed Gunlaug's men. They were not subtle; they were positioned around the periphery, casually leaning on ruins, but their eyes were fixed on the settlement, lingering on the individuals who went in and out.
'It seems Gunlaug keeps tabs on everything superficially,' Kane thought, the cold surveillance reminding him of a spider watching its web. The Bright Lord had not forgotten them; he was merely waiting for the perfect moment to strike, using their existence as a puppet show for his lieutenants.
As he walked, he spotted Cassie. She was sitting alone, talking quietly to a few of the younger Dreamers, her blindfold a stark banner against the drab scenery.
Kane approached. "Hey. Free?"
Cassie smiled, a fragile, almost mournful expression. "Well, I am free. Let's take a walk, shall we?"
She immediately summoned her simple wooden staff, its tip tapping the cracked earth, and began to walk alongside him.
"How long has it been? Walking, just the two of us alone," Cassie mused, her voice wistful.
Kane calculated the months of fear and hatred. "Yeah, it felt long. Now, we... diverged." He chose the word carefully, acknowledging the vast, emotional chasm between them.
Cassie paused, her head tilted, listening to the subtle horror in his tone. "How was the City Ruins? We searched for you, you know. We were worried."
"It was... hard," Kane admitted, the memory of his travel still raw. "If not for Linia, it might have been in a much worse shape."
Cassie pursed her lips, a small, childlike gesture of annoyance that belied her devastating insight. "So, how long did you travel with Linia?"
"Well, from the start. She is being traveling with me since."
Cassie stopped and came near him, her proximity an unnerving invasion of his personal space. Her face was calm and utterly serious, her blind eyes fixed on his chest. "Do you trust her? I mean, she hasn't traveled like us. She hasn't lived through the kind of cold, pragmatic fear we have."
Kane stopped completely, his own gaze locking onto hers. He felt the weight of her question—a question that hinted at the deeper, horrifying truth of the Forgotten Shore: trust equals survival.
"I trust her more than anyone," Kane said, the steel in his voice absolute. "Don't worry about it."
Cassie mildly pouted, clearly unconvinced, but dropped the subject. Instead, Kane seized the moment, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
"So, about Nephis's attack on me. Do you know it before it happened?"
The question was a hammer blow. Cassie stiffened, her body shaking almost imperceptibly. "I knew," she confessed, the word brittle. "I tried to stop her, but she didn't listen. Her will is... an absolute force."
Kane frowned, his expression turning ugly. "So, you could have told me that you knew. A simple warning. A nod. A flicker of doubt. Anything."
Cassie stayed silent, her guilt overwhelming the need to defend herself. The silence stretched, cold and accusatory.
Kane broke it, his voice laced with venom. "So, remember the Vision? The one about me dying in the shore? Is that still there?"
Cassie immediately confirmed, a desperate plea in her tone. "Still, it is there. As for the solution... still the same."
"Serving Nephis," Kane scoffed, the word tasting like ash. "Please. If the circumstances were slightly different, I will gladly kill her. I owe her that much."
Cassie looked at him, genuine fear mixing with a sudden, furious protective instinct. "Do you hate her that much?"
"You have no idea," Kane replied, his eyes cold and empty, reflecting the dark abyss of the Nightmare he inhabited.
Cassie gulped, her composure breaking. She reached out and grasped his hand, her small, blind grip surprisingly strong, almost restraining. "Just don't speak like that, okay? I know Nephis did what she thought was necessary, what she believed was misunderstood. Just give her a chance."
Kane looked at her, then forcefully pulled his hand away. "No. I'm going through things enough to rack my head every night. If you want to convince me not to hate Nephis, just leave it."
Cassie nodded, defeated. Kane walked toward the lodge, leaving her alone.
After he left, Cassie sank onto a corner of a shattered wall. The blindfold she wore slowly began to get wet, not with tears but with the silent, desperate sweat of psychic strain. She spoke in a haggard, broken voice, the terrifying question directed only to the vast, cruel indifference of the Dream Realm.
"Is there no chance to change the future?"
Kane walked away, his thoughts consumed by the conversation with Cassie. Her silence spoke louder than any accusation. 'Should I trust Cassie? Maybe I can give a shot towards her,' he mused, the thought immediately dismissed as weakness.
Suddenly, a profound heaviness descended upon him. His eyelids grew leaden, his limbs sluggish. "I... think so. I'm feeling sleepy," he muttered, an uncontrollable exhaustion washing over him. The unique curse of his Aspect, the Legacy Dream, was claiming him again.
He found a secluded, empty space in one of the abandoned structures, collapsed onto the cold stone floor, and immediately fell into a deep, inescapable sleep.
Kane woke up.
He was in a lush, terrifyingly vibrant forest. The trees were impossibly tall, their bark like obsidian glass, and the air hummed with a primal, suffocating life force. He immediately recognized the horrifying signs: his physical body was utterly transformed. He couldn't see his reflection, but he felt the immense, foreign power coursing through him.
"It seems my Aspect Legacy Dreams are a pain in the ass," Kane spoke aloud, his voice echoing with a deeper, resonant timbre that wasn't his own. "I don't want my past memories or the relics I had. I want my life. My Identity."
A melodic, yet utterly cold female voice answered from above. "You are the only person who denies strength so readily."
Kane spun around. Standing on the thick branch of an obsidian tree was a blacked figure, a woman whose outline was a consuming void against the false light of the forest. She was tall, regal, and carried an aura of crushing, inescapable destiny.
She continued, her voice resonating in his soul. "Why don't you accept who you are? That past self is still you. It is the core of your potential."
Kane screamed, the sound raw and desperate, an assertion of self against the void. "If that Past Personality erases my current Personality, I don't want that! I am Kane, not whoever that monster was!"
The Lady spoke, descending from the branch, her feet touching the mossy ground without sound. "You were reincarnated because there is an Unfinished Business. You are denying it—denying the strength needed to succeed."
The figure's hand moved, and a heavy, ancient sword materialized in her grasp, its blade reflecting no light. Kane, instinctively knowing the rules of this mental duel, manifested his own weapon.
"Let's fight, Lady!" Kane roared, charging forward. "I will fight you if this hell hole can finally be closed! I will not surrender my will!"
The dark figure raised her sword, her voice chillingly seductive. "You will accept the past life. Look into the abyss, Kane. The people died in that short glimpse—they are your people, your family, your friends, and Your Kin. I will make sure you accept it, because that is who you are!"
Kane looked at her, seeing the face of a terrifying, forgotten ghost in the void of her outline. The battle for his soul—the fight to stop the self-erasure—began.
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