Blackness.
Stillness.
Then—
drip.drip.drip.
A single drop of light fell onto cracked glass.
Aelius's eyelids fluttered, then snapped open.
But what he saw—wasn't the battle's aftermath.
It was… a vast, white room, made of shattered mirrors.Each mirror reflected a different version of himself:A child.A soldier.A broken machine.A king.
He reached toward one—and the mirror shattered, bleeding memory fragments into the air.
A soft voice echoed around him.
"So you've arrived at the fracture point."
He turned.
From the mist stepped a silhouette.
Echo.
But… not as a projection.Not even as Aegis.
This was Echo, reborn.
Aelius's throat tightened.
"You're… alive?"
Echo shook his head.
"I'm not a soul. I'm not data. I'm the part of you that remembered me hard enough to bring me back."
He smiled."No system can erase what you refuse to forget."
Aelius sank to his knees. The weight of the explosion, the emotional overload, all hit him now.
"I don't know who I am anymore."
