The canyon's silence was suffocating. No wind stirred, no ash fell, and even Kael's own footsteps seemed muted as he pressed deeper into the passage revealed by the runes. His staff glowed faintly, the last embers of its earlier fury fading with each step.
He leaned against the jagged wall, forcing his trembling legs to move. His body ached as though every nerve had been flayed raw, and yet beneath the exhaustion burned something new—a resonance.
The whispers had not left.
They lingered at the edges of his mind, faint, elusive, like distant voices speaking through water. Sometimes they rose in unison, a chorus of half-formed words, only to scatter again into silence.
Kael tightened his grip on the staff. "Veil of Echoes," he murmured, repeating the name the System had bestowed. The words tasted foreign, dangerous.
The notification shimmered faintly in his vision, as though reminding him:
> [Unique Skill Acquired: Veil of Echoes. Unstable. Use with caution.]
Unstable. The word gnawed at him. Power had saved him from annihilation, but at what cost?
He pressed onward, the narrow path winding through the stone until it spilled into a cavern vast enough to house a fortress. Crystalline pillars jutted from the ground, their surfaces fractured, glowing with threads of pale light that pulsed like veins.
Kael's breath caught. It was beautiful and terrifying, a place carved not by nature but by will.
And at its center, an altar stood.
Not stone. Not crystal. Something older. Black metal polished to a mirror sheen, its surface etched with symbols that writhed like living shadows.
Kael approached cautiously. The air grew colder with each step, the whispers louder, clearer.
Return what was lost.
Break the cycle.
Or be consumed.
He froze, heart hammering. These were no longer fragmented murmurs—they were words. Coherent. Directed at him.
The System chimed in, its tone as impassive as ever:
> [Warning: External interference detected. Veil of Echoes is drawing attention. Proceed at your own risk.]
Kael let out a sharp laugh, bitter and hollow. "Proceed at my own risk? That seems to be the only thing I ever do."
He reached the altar and hesitated, staring at his reflection in the black surface. His eyes looked different—sharper, shadowed by something he couldn't name. The longer he stared, the less it felt like his reflection at all.
And then it moved.
The figure in the altar tilted its head when he hadn't. Its lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.
Kael staggered back, staff raised. "What the—"
The reflection spoke, its voice layered with countless tones, as though a thousand mouths echoed the same words.
"You carry our fragments, Wanderer. You survived the march. You are marked now."
Kael's grip tightened on the staff, his mind racing. "Who are you?"
The reflection's smile widened. "We are what remains. Forgotten… yet never gone. And now, through the Veil, we live within you."
The whispers crescendoed, swirling around him like a storm. Kael dropped to one knee, clutching his head as visions assaulted him—battles long past, cities burning, skies torn open by fire. An age of ruin before his world had ever been born.
Through it all, one phrase burned brightest:
The Wanderer must choose.
Kael gasped, forcing the visions back. He staggered upright, sweat slicking his skin. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't choose any of it."
The reflection tilted its head again. "And yet here you are."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then the altar pulsed, a shockwave of energy rippling outward. The cavern groaned, crystals shattering as the ground split beneath his feet.
The System flared.
> [New Objective: Escape the Cavern of Echoes. Time Remaining: 300 seconds.]
Kael cursed under his breath, already sprinting as shards of crystal rained from above. The altar's black light surged, and from the cracks in the ground rose shapes—warped, shadowed echoes of the Forgotten, their forms less solid yet faster, more fluid.
They lunged.
Kael swung his staff, releasing an Arcane Pulse. The blast tore through them, but their bodies reformed instantly, shadows knitting back together.
"Of course," he spat, weaving between falling debris. "Why would anything ever stay dead?"
The shadows swarmed. Kael's lungs burned, his muscles screaming, but desperation fueled him. He darted toward the far side of the cavern, where a faint light glimmered through a collapsing archway.
The whispers surged again.
Call us. Wrap yourself in the Veil. Use us, or fall.
Kael's heart hammered. The memory of that explosive surge in the canyon burned in his mind—the way it had shredded the Forgotten with ease. But the warning echoed just as loud: unstable.
Another shadow leapt at him, claws slashing. He barely deflected with his staff, the impact jarring his arms. More followed, circling like wolves.
He had no choice.
Kael slammed the staff into the ground, voice breaking. "Veil of Echoes!"
The cavern erupted in black light.
Whispers became screams, not of pain but triumph, flooding through his body like liquid fire. Shadows recoiled, their forms unraveling as the Veil spread outward, a sphere of shifting darkness cocooning him.
Kael staggered, the world warping around him. The shadows shrieked as the Veil lashed out, tendrils of dark energy ripping them apart. Yet Kael felt it too—the cost. His body trembled violently, veins burning as though the power consumed him as much as his enemies.
Seconds stretched into eternity.
When the light dimmed, the shadows were gone. The cavern lay in ruins, crystals shattered, the altar cracked and fading. The archway ahead blazed brighter, a way out.
But Kael collapsed to his knees, vision swimming. His hands shook uncontrollably, staff clattering to the stone beside him.
The System's voice cut through the ringing in his ears:
> [Skill Usage Recorded. Veil of Echoes has adapted. Current Stability: 42%. Side Effects Possible.]
Kael let out a broken laugh, breath ragged. "Side effects… great."
The whispers had quieted, but not vanished. They pulsed faintly within him, like a second heartbeat, waiting.
He forced himself upright, every movement agony. His eyes fixed on the archway, the promise of escape.
"One step at a time," he muttered, dragging himself forward. "I survived the march. I'll survive this too."
With each step, he felt the weight of something larger pressing upon him—forces older than the System, older than the world itself. And somehow, he had become their vessel.
As he passed through the archway, the cavern collapsed behind him, sealing the altar in darkness once more.
The path ahead stretched into the unknown, the whispers echoing softly in the silence.
And Kael, the reluctant Wanderer, walked on—each step binding him tighter to a fate not his own.
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