Walter looked at Ariel, curiosity brimming behind his gentle gaze.
"Companion?" Ariel raised a brow.
Walter chuckled. "What, surprised? I'm a Rank 2 as well, you know. Don't go underestimating me, young man."
"No! No, I didn't mean it like that!" Ariel said quickly, waving his hands. "It's just… you said you used to be. So I assumed..."
Walter smiled faintly, eyes distant. "There was an internal fallout in the team. Everyone went their own way after that. But enough about me. What about you? I'd like to know more."
Ariel paused for a moment, then nodded. "You already know my name. This here,"—he glanced at the girl lying unconscious nearby, his voice softening—"is my cute and lovely little sister, Ilya."
Walter grinned. "Lovely and cute indeed. If I were you, I'd be tugging those cheeks all day."
Ariel gave the faintest smile, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood.
He continued, voice more composed now. "Two months ago, we lost our only parent. After that, things got worse fast. The abnormalities spread. Our city fell. We were lucky the evacuation army found us... became refugees, and well... you know the rest."
Walter's expression shifted, guilt painting his features. "So you don't have any parents left?"
Ariel nodded.
"I'm sorry... That's far too much for someone your age." Walter sighed. "You're young, but fate's already been too cruel."
He tilted his head thoughtfully. "But—don't take this the wrong way—how is there such a huge age difference between you and your sister? I mean, you look like you're over 20, and she seems like she's not even six."
Ariel didn't flinch. "That's because I have Progeria Syndrome—a kind of genetic mutation. I don't know the science behind it, really. But... I'm actually 11 years old."
Walter stared at him.
Then blinked.
Then gawked like Ariel had grown a second head. "Wait... what did you just say?"
"I'm eleven," Ariel repeated calmly. "And Ilya is six."
Walter looked like he was about to choke—despite not eating anything.
"You're telling me... you're eleven years old?!"
Ariel gave a small, exhausted nod. "I get why it's hard to believe. Everyone thinks I'm over 20."
For a moment, Walter just stared.
Then, without warning, he lunged forward and wrapped Ariel in a tight, crushing hug.
"Wha—?! I—can't—breathe!" Ariel wheezed, flailing.
Walter immediately pulled back, apologetic. "Ah! Sorry! Sorry, I got carried away."
He exhaled, guilt in his voice. "But... dammit, kid. You should've told us. Eleven years old… no wonder. Everything makes more sense now—your choices, your reactions... and your silence."
His voice dropped lower, sincere and steady. "Ariel, I can't imagine the weight you're carrying. You're a child, forced to act like a man... in a world falling apart."
Walter placed a hand on Ariel's shoulder.
"You've done more than enough. Please... take some time to rest. Heal. You've earned that much."
Walter gave Ariel a soft, sympathetic look. "You've been through a lot, kid."
"But… aren't you supposed to tell me about my powers?" Ariel asked, still looking weary but curious.
Walter chuckled lightly. "We'll get to that, I promise. But right now, you should rest. Trust me, once things start moving, you won't get another peaceful moment. If you even want one."
He stood up, stretching his back slightly. "Oh—and since you've been unconscious for two whole days and haven't eaten a thing, how about we get a proper meal? It's on me. Might help settle your nerves."
As he spoke, Walter casually raised his hand and slipped the silencing device back into the air—returning it to whatever space it came from. The atmosphere in the room shifted, no longer cloaked in that strange stillness.
Ariel tilted his head. "Doctor… what was that? That thing you pulled from the air?"
"Oh, that?" Walter smiled. "Just part of my Origin Ability. Spatial distortion and storage. It's my second ability—I awakened it after I broke through. And that device? A little privacy magic tool you could say. Makes sure no one can eavesdrop, even with specialized techniques."
He walked to the door and held it open, motioning for Ariel to follow. Ariel, however, remained seated, glancing at Ilya with hesitant eyes.
"Doctor… can we have food here instead? I don't really want to leave her side."
Walter raised an eyebrow. "You're quite the overprotective big brother, aren't you?"
Ariel gave a faint smile. "It's just… I feel at ease when I'm near her."
Walter let out a soft chuckle. "What a lovely pair of siblings you two are. Alright, we'll eat here."
He made a quick call and ordered the food to be brought to the room. Then he returned to his seat beside Ariel.
"Food's on the way," he said. "Until then, how about we talk?"
Walter leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "Would you mind sharing what you've learned about your abilities so far? It'll help me explain what you're dealing with."
"I don't know what they are," Ariel admitted. "Not really. I just… did what I had to. I acted."
Walter nodded thoughtfully, then with a flick of his hand, summoned the silencing device once more. A pulse of stillness fell over the room like a soft blanket.
"Alright, listen carefully," he said. "Try to focus inward. Not like you're searching outside yourself—but like you're listening to your own thoughts. You'll hear it. The Echoes of Origin."
"The what?" Ariel frowned.
"The voice," Walter said. "Or rather… the soul's voice. It's not something external. It's you. Just... deeper."
He paused, letting Ariel process.
"The Echoes are memories. Power wrapped in instinct. What you're doing is remembering a part of yourself. Now go ahead—concentrate."
Ariel closed his eyes, uncertain—but he focused.
Suddenly, a voice that sounded eerily like his own echoed through his mind:
[Dormant power awakens.]
[Origin Ability remembered.]
[You have grown closer to the Echoes of Origin.]
Then more voices followed—dozens, hundreds—like ripples in his mind:
[You have killed a Forsaken Corrupted.]
[You have killed a Tainted Corrupted.]
[You have killed a Tainted Corrupted.]
[You have killed a Tainted Corrupted.]
[You have killed a Tainted Corrupted.]
[You have killed...
...
...
...
Eventually, the storm of echoes slowed. The whispers faded.
And then, one last phrase settled in the silence:
[You have grown closer to the Echoes of Origin.]
Ariel opened his eyes, blinking slowly. A strange calm followed the chaos.
'I… killed that many?' he thought. 'I don't even remember doing it. And what does it mean to grow closer to the Echoes of Origin?'
He looked down at his hands, now steady, but still unsure if they were his own anymore.