Valen Creed's eyes snapped open.
Red clouds churned overhead, flashing jagged streaks of lightning that split the sky like shattered glass. The world was soaked in smoke, ash, and the acrid smell of burning ruins. Cold rain drizzled, mixing with dust and grime, coating his skin with dirt and wetness.
He lay sprawled on cracked concrete, every breath stabbing pain through his ribs. His clothes were soaked and torn, clinging to his pale, lean frame. His arms and legs felt heavy, like chains dragged across broken ground.
His fingers twitched involuntarily.
Faint shadows flickered around his hand — the unstable pulse of the Echo of the End, a strange power he barely understood.
Valen's skin was pale, almost ghostly, his face sharp and hardened beyond his years. His black eyes were intense, deep pools that seemed to carry the weight of countless horrors — older than his eighteen years, older than any normal soul should be.
A jagged scar etched his chest, burnt and raw — a reminder of the day the sky cracked open and the apocalypse began.
"Where… am I?" His voice was low, rough, like a whisper swallowed by the wind.
The city was broken.
Skyscrapers groaned and crumbled, glass shattered and falling like rain. Streets were littered with debris—twisted cars, broken glass, fallen power lines sparking faintly. Fires flickered here and there, casting dancing shadows against blackened walls.
Thunder rolled above, lightning flashing, revealing glimpses of the ruined world in harsh bursts of light.
A distant roar ripped through the air — a sound like metal grinding on bone.
Valen's heart hammered in his chest.
He forced his trembling limbs to move, pushing himself into a sitting position despite the searing pain in his ribs.
His body ached from old wounds and new. He had lived through hell once, survived betrayal by humanity's last defenders — a rebel hunted and broken. Now, he was back. Returned before the end, carrying knowledge of a future that had burned billions alive.
He was a ghost of that future, walking among the living.
His breath came fast and shallow.
He scanned the ruined streets with sharp, calculating eyes.
Then, movement.
A monstrous figure staggered through the wreckage — half-metal, half-flesh, eyes glowing a hungry red.
Monsters. The things that had torn his world apart.
Valen's fingers curled as shadowy strands flickered around his hand.
The Echo of the End, weak and flickering like a dying candle.
He tried to summon it fully, but the power trembled in his veins.
A jagged blade of dark energy formed in his palm — thin, unstable.
The creature charged.
Valen barely raised the blade as the monster's claw slammed into his arm, burning with jagged pain.
The blade shattered like glass.
He stumbled, gasping for air, heart racing.
The creature growled, eyes blazing with savage hunger.
Valen rolled away, dodging the next attack.
His body was weak, but his mind was cold and tactical.
Survival wasn't about strength yet — it was about outthinking the enemy.
He pushed himself to his feet and ran, dodging debris and shattered glass.
The Echo flickered weakly beside him — a fragile shadow barely protecting his back.
Ahead, a narrow alley offered refuge.
He slipped inside and froze.
A soft cry came from the darkness.
Valen's sharp gaze found her.
A young woman, trapped beneath a fallen beam, her face pale and streaked with dirt, eyes wide with terror.
"Help… please," she whispered.
For a moment, Valen hesitated.
The years of betrayal, the loss of billions — trust was a luxury he no longer had.
But something stirred in him.
A flicker of something older than fear — a stubborn spark of hope.
He rushed forward, hands trembling as he lifted the heavy beam.
The woman gasped, coughing on dust.
She looked up, eyes locking with his — fear mixed with fragile trust.
"I'm Lira," she said, voice shaking.
Valen nodded, swallowing the knot in his throat.
"Come on," she urged. "More of those things are coming."
He clenched his teeth, pain lancing his side with every movement.
Summoning the Echo again, a thin shimmering shield flickered into existence between them — a fragile veil of shadow energy.
Just as a clawed hand smashed toward them, the barrier held for a breath.
The creature snarled and slammed again until the shield shattered.
Valen caught Lira's arm, voice low.
"We have to move."
They sprinted through the broken streets, monsters howling in pursuit.
Each step drained Valen's strength.
The Echo pulsed painfully beneath his skin, sapping him with every beat.
They reached a broken rooftop overlooking the city.
Valen leaned heavily on the jagged wall, gasping for breath.
Lira steadied herself beside him, trembling.
"We can't keep running," she said softly.
Valen's cold eyes scanned the horizon.
The Rift above the city tore wider, bleeding dark energy into the sky.
The air shimmered with destruction.
He felt the weight of a world ending — fires, screams, shadows that hunger for the last light.
The Echo pulsed stronger now — a fragile ember ready to ignite.
He swallowed hard, staring into the bleeding sky.
"This… this is only the beginning."
He didn't know why he had been given this power, or why he was alive again.
But one thing was clear —
He would fight.
Even broken.
Even weak.
Because inside him, a spark still burned.
The last flicker of hope before the end.