The simulation chamber pulsed with dim red light.
Eron stood in the center, his body soaked in sweat. His breath came in ragged gasps. The virtual battlefield was gone, but the ache in his muscles and the echoes in his mind lingered. Ten simulated deaths in under an hour. Ten brutal resets.
And he still hadn't cleared the Phantom Protocol test.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," Arin said from behind the thick pane of reinforced glass. Her voice buzzed through the speaker. "Most Echo Hosts burn out by their third sim. You've done twenty today."
Eron didn't respond. He simply flexed his hand. The scar on his palm shimmered faintly—an echo of the blade that now lived inside him.
[System Notice]
Synchronization: 11%
Core Integrity: 92%
Warning: Host fatigue level—CRITICAL
"I'm not done."
He stepped back into the circle, initiating the next simulation.
This time, it wasn't a battlefield. It was… a throne room?
Black stone pillars loomed on all sides. A massive figure in armor sat on the throne—a knight cloaked in ash, eyes glowing like dying stars. His blade, a jagged mass of spectral code, hummed with barely restrained hatred.
[Phantom Core Protocol Initiated]
Opponent: Lord Adryn, Warden of Echoes
The knight stood.
And moved.
Faster than anything Eron had faced.
Steel met air, and Eron barely dodged the first strike. A cut opened across his cheek. He retaliated, forming his own blade mid-spin, bringing it up in a desperate guard.
The clash sent him flying backward. The impact shattered one of the simulation's memory towers.
I'm not strong enough yet… he thought, blinking through blood.
Then VIRA's voice echoed through his mind—soft, cold, unwavering.
Emotion spike detected. Triggering neural expansion.
Authorization: Overclock.
Suddenly, everything slowed.
Not like before—this was different.
He could see particles in the air. The tension in Lord Adryn's muscles before he moved. The intent behind each strike. It was like watching time… fracture.
Chrono-Slip Combat Style unlocked.
Phase 2: Phantom Core Activated.
Eron didn't think. He moved.
The blade in his hand elongated, shimmered, then split into three trailing forms—afterimages that struck along different paths. His body blurred, stepping sideways through false time.
He moved behind the knight, struck from an impossible angle.
Steel pierced simulated armor.
The echo-world shattered around him.
When he came to, he was on the chamber floor, coughing.
Arin was already beside him, kneeling, eyes wide. "You did it. You beat the Phantom Protocol."
Eron turned his head slowly. The palm-mark was burning like fire.
[System Update]
Phantom Core: STABLE.
New Skill Acquired: Echo Mirage (Tier II)
He exhaled, voice hoarse. "I saw… everything. How he moved. What he was thinking."
Arin frowned. "That's not supposed to happen. The simulations are fragments. Memories. Not sentient thought."
VIRA cut in, her voice clipped.
The Phantom Core doesn't simulate memory. It copies living echoes.
Lord Adryn... may still exist.
Eron's eyes narrowed.
"If that's true… then he remembers me too."
Meanwhile – The Citadel of Orders
Nyssan reviewed the footage from Old Meridian in silence. Her gloved hands rested atop her cane, eyes locked on the recording of Eron's latest fight.
Beside her, a man in silver exo-robes crossed his arms. "He's already past the second evolution stage. No external stabilizers. That blade—it's not just an artifact. It's a sentient combat archive."
Nyssan nodded. "And he's awakening it faster than any known Host."
The man frowned. "Do you want him captured?"
"No," Nyssan said, rising. "We don't cage fire. We use it… until it burns the world clean."