The rooftop creaked beneath Valen's boots.
Ash swirled in the air, coating the broken concrete like snow. Fires burned in the distance, casting orange glows across shattered buildings. The city was groaning — wounded but not dead.
Valen Creed stood at the edge, silent.
Lira knelt behind him, arms wrapped around herself, still shaking. Her breathing was uneven. She hadn't said much since they escaped the alley. She was trying to be quiet. Smart.
Below, the streets were crawling.
Six-legged beasts the size of bears stalked the wreckage. Some dragged metal across their backs, armored like walking tanks. Others had no eyes, just mouths full of teeth and claws like rusted knives. They didn't speak. Didn't think. They just hunted.
"This is worse than I remember," Valen muttered.
He watched one of the creatures pounce on a fleeing man.
Screams followed.
Then silence.
Lira turned away.
"You said this was only the beginning," she whispered. "What did you mean?"
Valen's eyes stayed fixed on the chaos below.
"I've seen what comes next."
"You're talking like this has happened before."
"It has. For me."
Lira blinked, confused. "That's… not possible."
Valen didn't answer.
He didn't need to explain reincarnation to her. Not yet. Not when monsters were tearing through streets like paper.
He could feel the Echo of the End again.
A subtle heat just under his skin. Faint threads of black and silver curling along his forearm. It was stronger than before. It had reacted when he saved Lira. When he made a choice.
Emotion. Will. Combat. Those were the triggers.
But he needed more power.
The rooftop rumbled. Cracks formed beneath their feet.
Valen's head snapped toward the center of the building.
"Get back!"
Lira stumbled as the roof caved in behind them. A massive claw punched through the surface, followed by a jagged metal helm. A mutated beast dragged itself upward — half-machine, half-flesh. Its back was covered in thrumming wires and leaking steam.
A Titan-class.
Valen's breath caught. In his old life, these things wiped out squads of elite hunters. And now one was climbing toward him — when he didn't even have a real weapon.
Lira screamed.
The Titan smashed its way through the rooftop, standing tall in front of them. Steel plates jutted from its arms like blades. Its chest opened, revealing something that pulsed like a glowing red heart.
Valen gritted his teeth. The Echo surged.
"Stay behind me."
He raised his right arm.
The Echo of the End responded — faster than before.
A short blade formed in his grip, obsidian-black with cracks of glowing silver running along the edge. Still unstable. But stronger.
He dashed forward before the Titan could finish rising.
The sword slashed down on the monster's arm.
Clang!
The blade sparked off armor.
The Echo flickered, destabilizing in his hand. Not enough power.
The Titan roared and swiped. Valen ducked low, blade humming. He slid across the rubble, sliced at the creature's knee joint. Sparks flew — a shallow cut.
Valen moved again. Fast. Surgical.
Fight like you can't be hit. Strike like you don't need to kill.
That was how the rebels fought.
The Titan swung again. Valen jumped back — too slow.
The claw raked his side. Blood spilled. He staggered, gasping.
The sword trembled. The Echo pulsed harder.
Suddenly, he felt it — like a heartbeat not his own. A rhythm.
Time slowed.
His vision sharpened. Every gear inside the Titan moved in slow motion.
Now.
He lunged, using a burst of energy that burned through his bones. The sword extended slightly — just enough.
He stabbed deep into the Titan's eye socket.
The creature roared, flailing wildly. Sparks exploded.
Valen gritted his teeth and drove the blade deeper. The Echo responded — stabilizing, wrapping shadowy tendrils around his arm, syncing with his strike.
With a final cry, the Titan collapsed.
Valen dropped to his knees, breathing hard.
The sword dissolved into black mist.
Behind him, Lira rushed over.
"You're bleeding—"
"Let it be," he muttered. "It's not fatal."
She hesitated. "That thing… you killed it alone."
He nodded, eyes narrowed.
"I'll need to kill a hundred more before this city's even close to safe."
Hours Later
Valen and Lira moved through the ruins, avoiding the main roads. The monsters were everywhere now — searching, spreading, feeding. They didn't rest. And they were only the first wave.
Valen had seen the second wave.
Human ones.
He knew the timeline. The rifts would widen in less than 24 hours. Energy storms would sweep through the city. Survivors would be forced underground or die in the open.
And then the governments would start nuking everything they couldn't control.
They needed shelter.
Valen remembered something — an old safehouse. One he used before.
"Follow me," he said quietly.
They moved through shattered alleys, past corpses and collapsed buildings. Valen's body ached. His wound burned. But the Echo of the End had started responding faster. Every time he fought or chose survival, it adapted.
They reached a broken subway entrance. Stairs led downward into darkness.
Valen flicked his fingers.
A thread of black light sparked to life, hovering above his palm like a dim flame. He'd learned that trick in his first life — basic echo manipulation. Shadow-light.
They descended.
The walls were cracked but still standing. Rats scurried past. The hum of silence was thick.
Eventually, they reached a heavy security door.
Valen knelt, pulled open a hidden panel, and keyed in an old override code.
Click.
The door opened slowly.
A dim room with scattered crates, blankets, and old survival gear. Still intact.
He walked in, dropped his jacket, and sat down.
Lira followed silently.
"This was your place?" she asked.
"It was." He glanced at the dust. "Will be, I guess."
She looked at him. "You really are from the future, aren't you?"
Valen didn't speak.
The light from his Echo flickered faintly across the room, casting shadows on the wall.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
The monsters had arrived. His Echo was growing. And he had less than one day before the second wave.
But now, he wasn't a hunted rebel anymore.
He was starting earlier. Planning smarter. Getting stronger.
This time, he'd reshape the end.
One death at a time.