The Relic Furnace loomed before them—monolithic and pulsing like a held breath.
Its surface was smooth in places, cracked in others, a collage of melted relics and vaultstone braided with lines of slow-burning light. Tubes of energy coursed in and out of the construct like veins.
Kael approached it first.
The closer he stepped, the louder the sound became—not just sound, but feeling—a pressure that whispered exhaustion, grief, and something worse: hunger.
The Echoheart pulsed once, hard enough to stagger him.
He reached out and placed a hand against the furnace.
It wasn't cold.
It wasn't anything.
It simply remembered him.
Light surged outward from the contact point, and the chamber was swallowed by vision.
Figures flickered around him—warriors, scholars, wanderers—all bearing the Echoheart or something like it. Some knelt in triumph. Others fell screaming. A few simply vanished.
They were caught in a loop:
Receive. Rise. Resist. Fall. Forgotten.
Receive. Rise. Resist. Fall—
Each cycle played faster, louder, until Kael couldn't tell if they were dying or becoming something else entirely.
They didn't fail because they were weak. They failed because they couldn't choose.
He pulled his hand away, panting.
Elira stood nearby, her eyes wide with understanding—and horror.
"It's not just a battery," she whispered. "It's a resonance trap. It feeds on unfinished purpose. That's why the echoes are trapped. They came in thinking they had a choice… and never made one."
Kael swallowed hard. "So what happens if I fail?"
"You don't leave. You become part of the Vault."
She looked at him then, her voice quieter.
"I don't want to watch you become a memory I can't reach."
Tovan turned sharply, his voice raw. "That thing in your chest—it's bait. This Vault wants you to believe you're chosen, so it can bleed you dry like the rest."
He stepped forward, hand on his weapon. "Kael. End this now. Destroy the relic before it finishes what it started."
Kael didn't flinch. "You don't understand. This isn't about power. It's about memory—about legacy."
Tovan's voice rose. "It's about manipulation. If you keep going, you won't come back."
Kael looked at Elira, then the Vault. The Echoheart pulsed in reply—faster now, as if agitated.
Then the Vault reacted.
The floor trembled—lines of light across the furnace cracked and flared.
Walls blurred. The air shimmered. Voices filled the room—not just sound, but presence.
"Do you remember me?"
"Your face isn't yours."
"Echoes echo echoes…"
Reality fractured.
The floor splintered beneath their feet. Tovan vanished into mist. Elira cried out as she was pulled sideways into a wall that no longer held its shape.
Kael fell—deeper than before. Not physically. Into memory.
He landed on solid ground.
Silence.
Before him stood a figure clad in ancient armor, draped in age-worn banners. The Echoheart pulsed dimly at their chest.
The first bearer.
They turned toward him—eyes hollow, voice like stone remembering fire.
"So. You've come to break the cycle."