The rain-slick alley narrowed as we followed Darius, his boots striking softly against the stones. The other two Echoes trailed behind us like shadows that refused to vanish, silent and watchful. Selene kept her hand close to her weapon, every step taut with suspicion. I could feel it in her posture—if this turned into a trap, she would cut her way out without hesitation.
But me? I wasn't sure yet if I wanted to run, or to hear what these people knew.
We passed through a rusted gate, its bars bent outward as if something had once tried to claw its way free. Beyond it, the ground sloped downward into the remains of a collapsed subway tunnel. The air grew damp, thick with the smell of mold and stagnant water. Faded posters clung to the walls, their words half-rotted away: The Council Protects. Obey and Prosper. Lies preserved in mildew.
Torches lit the way ahead, not electric light—fire. It flickered along the broken tile, casting jagged shadows across the tunnel's ribs.
Selene asked, her tone dripping with disdain.
Darius didn't look back. "The Council owns the skies, the towers, the streets. Down here is the only place they forget to watch. And forgetting… is their greatest mistake."
The tunnel opened into a cavernous chamber where the ceiling had collapsed long ago, leaving only shards of concrete and twisted rebar. A dozen figures moved among the rubble—some sharpening blades, some tending to makeshift machines that hummed with stolen power. Their eyes turned to us as we entered, sharp and hungry, but not hostile.
"This is one of our dens," Darius said simply. "The city thinks we're ghosts. Whispers. But whispers travel. And whispers cut deeper than the Council's chains."
I swallowed hard, scanning their faces. Some were young, barely older than me. Others bore scars that spoke of long years fighting battles I hadn't even known existed. None of them looked like saviors. They looked like survivors who had decided survival wasn't enough.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice echoing off the wet stone.
Darius turned then, his eyes catching the torchlight. "Not obedience. Not loyalty. Just a choice. You can keep running, hiding, hoping the Wardens won't corner you again. "You can join those who refuse to run."
Selene stiffened beside me. "Don't listen," she hissed. "They'll use you, just like Kael did. Different words, same chains."
Her distrust was sharp, but I couldn't ignore the thrum inside me. The Echoes weren't offering safety. They weren't promising freedom. They were offering something more dangerous: purpose.
And for the first time since Kael's betrayal,
I met Darius's gaze. "And if I refuse?"
He didn't smile this time. "And when it does, Kael will be waiting to pick at the bones."
His words struck like a blade I hadn't seen coming. Because I knew he was right.
the drip of water from the ceiling. Every Echo's eyes were on me now. Selene's hand hovered close to my arm, ready to pull me away. But she didn't stop me. She was waiting for me to decide.
And for the first time, I realized: survival wasn't just about escaping death. It was about choosing what you lived for.
Every gaze in the cavern pressed down on me like weight I wasn't ready to carry. The Echoes stood silent, expectant, their blades and scars telling stories I hadn't lived yet. Selene's presence at my side was the only anchor I had, and even that anchor.
"You don't owe them anything," she murmured, low enough for only me to hear. "They'll dress it up as freedom, but it's another leash. I've seen it before. You follow them, and you'll be bled dry for someone else's war."
Her words dug deep, because part of me wanted to believe them. To walk away, to keep surviving as we always had—alone, unseen, unclaimed.
But Kael's face burned in my mind. His calm, his hunger, the way he had measured my worth like I was a coin to be traded. If I walked away now, wasn't I proving him right? Just another piece waiting to be claimed by someone stronger?
I lifted my chin, letting my eyes sweep across the room, meeting the stares of those who waited. They weren't saints. They weren't saviors. But they weren't Kael either.
"I'm done running," I said, my voice sharper than I expected. "If the city wants to break me, it's going to choke on the pieces."
Darius's expression shifted—just slightly—but I caught it. Approval. A spark of something like respect.
Selene turned on me sharply. "Lysandra—"
I faced her, heart hammering. " To act. That's what I'm doing, Maybe they'll use me, maybe they'll bleed me dry—but at least I'll burn on my own terms."
Her jaw tightened, her silence heavier than anger. Finally, she looked away, muttering something under her breath I couldn't catch.
Darius extended his hand—not like a friend, but like someone sealing a contract. "Then you're Echo, now. Not by blood. Not by oath. By choice."
I stared at his hand for a long moment, then placed mine in his. His grip was firm, grounding, but cold. The chamber stirred—the Echoes nodding to one another, quiet acknowledgment rippling through them like a signal.
Selene didn't move, didn't speak. But I felt the distance open between us, sharper than any blade.
Darius leaned close, his voice low. "Then listen carefully, Lysandra. Kael hasn't abandoned you. He's hunting you. And if you've chosen to stand with us, that makes him your enemy as much as the Council."
My pulse spiked at his name, but I didn't pull away. I met Darius's eyes and let the fire in my chest burn hotter than the fear.
"If Kael's hunting me," I said, steady, "then he'll find I'm not prey anymore."
The chamber erupted with movement—the Echoes preparing, arming themselves, whispering of plans I couldn't yet follow. Darius stepped back into the shadows of his people. Selene lingered at the edge of the firelight, her face unreadable.
And me?all, for the first time feeling the weight of choice not as a burden… but as a weapon.
The game had shifted. And I had chosen to play.