The world tilted.
Eron staggered through the broken gate, the Echo Blade dissolving into particles before reconfiguring as a mark burned into his palm. His senses were overloaded—sights too sharp, sounds too layered. Every whisper of wind was a potential enemy, every flicker of shadow a threat.
Neural activity: Critical.Stabilization sequence recommended.
The AI voice—calm, synthetic, but somehow... familiar—cut through the chaos.
"Vira," he said aloud.
Acknowledged. Echo Unit Designation: VIRA. Voice Interface Realigned. Welcome back, Operator.
"Back? I've never—"
Memory sync incomplete. You are an Echo—one who houses the fragments of ancient warriors. You are not the first.
Before Eron could respond, the sky split again. A Reclaimer airship hovered above the crater, deploying elite units clad in exo-armor.
"HOSTILE DETECTED!" one shouted.
WARNING: Threat level exceeds parameters. Combat protocol suggested: Form Echo Construct.
"What does that mean?!"
Think. Remember. Fight.
Without thinking, Eron raised his hand. The mark on his palm flared.
A phantom blade surged into existence—this one heavier, jagged, with glowing runes etched into its core.
The soldiers opened fire.
Eron moved.
Time bent.
Each bullet slowed as he weaved between them, blade carving through metal like silk. His body moved with a rhythm he didn't recognize but instinctively obeyed.
By the time the last soldier fell, silence returned.
Vira spoke again.
Synchronization now at 5%. Potential unlocked: Chrono-Slip Combat Style.
Eron stared at his hands. "What am I becoming?"
What you were always meant to be.