I sat there for a long time.
Back against the cold stone.
Hands curled into fists against my legs.
My body still ached, the aftershocks of that power crackling under my skin like dying embers. The air in the chamber felt heavier now, thick with something I couldn't place.
Aiden hadn't said a word since I woke up.
I hadn't either.
Because I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to say.
I let out a slow breath, staring up at the cracked ceiling.
'That wasn't supposed to happen.'
Not like that.
The Echo, the beast's essence, had fought me. I had felt it clawing at my mind, resisting, refusing to submit. That wasn't how Echo absorption was supposed to work. Not for me. Not for anyone.
It had been painful. Violent.
Like the power wasn't just rejecting me, like it was angry.
I swallowed hard, rubbing at my wrist. The mark there had dimmed, the violent glow of the Primordial Echo no longer raging across my skin. But I could still feel it.
Lurking.
Waiting.
I closed my eyes, trying to push past the lingering headache, trying to think through what had happened.
The beast.
It was supposed to be long dead.
It was supposed to be just another remnant of power, left behind for the strongest to claim.
That's how it had played out before.
When the protagonist's party arrived in the Blood Pit, they had found the beast's corpse, not its lingering will. Its Echo had been a prize waiting to be taken, not something that resisted, not something that remembered.
They had fought for it, of course. The Blood Pit was full of warriors desperate for power, and something like this was bound to attract attention.
But in the end, the protagonist won.
They absorbed the Echo without incident. No visions, no resistance.
Just power.
That's how it was supposed to go.
So why the hell had I seen something different?
I gritted my teeth, the memory of that battlefield flashing behind my eyes.
The beast had been alive. Fighting.
Not against some challenger in the pit, not against a rival predator.
Against something worse.
A shadowed figure, its voice cutting through the sky like a blade.
Kneel.
I shuddered. That single word carried more weight than anything else I had heard since coming to this world.
Had that been the beast's final moments? Had I somehow glimpsed its death, the very moment its Echo had been torn away?
That wasn't something Echoes were supposed to remember.
I exhaled, pressing my palm to my forehead.
'Alright. Maybe it was just… different. A stronger Echo. A rare case.'
That made sense, right?
There had been unique Echoes before, ones that reacted strangely to certain wielders. Maybe this was one of them. Maybe I just didn't understand the full extent of its nature.
Maybe I was overthinking it.
I lowered my hand, my gaze drifting to my wrist.
The sigil was still there.
Faint.
Dormant.
Waiting.
Emil.
I had almost forgotten.
He had left me with this, a lingering mark, a connection. Something I could use when I needed to.
Or when he wanted me to.
I clenched my fist.
I could activate it.
Call out to him.
Ask him what the hell had just happened.
Who that had been.
If this was the only thing that had changed.
But could I trust the answer?
Would Emil even tell me the truth?
I already knew what he was. Manipulative. Vague. Always holding back the real information until it suited him.
If I called him now, what would he say?
That this was all part of his plan?
That I was right where I needed to be?
Or worse…
That he didn't know either.
I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temple.
'No. Not yet.'
I wasn't desperate enough to rely on him.
Not yet.
I had to figure this out on my own first.
I flexed my fingers, trying to summon the Echo again, to force it to obey.
The energy within me barely responded.
It wasn't gone.
But it wasn't mine either.
Not fully.
Something was missing.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to think.
The beast's power—what had made it special—wasn't just raw strength.
It was Resonance.
In the original story, this Echo had belonged to a warrior who wielded a blade known as Howl.
With it, the power of the beast didn't just enhance their physical strength.
It echoed.
A single strike from the sword would ripple, splitting into aftershocks, delayed echoes of the original attack.
A blade swing became three.
A thrust became a storm.
It was an ability that overwhelmed its enemies through sheer relentless force, every attack haunting its target like a phantom of the original strike.
But I had no sword.
And without one, the Echo felt… incomplete.
I gritted my teeth, my hands curling into fists.
'That doesn't make sense.'
Echoes weren't supposed to be locked to a weapon.
They weren't supposed to feel like they were missing something.
So why did this one?
My fingers twitched.
No.
Something was wrong.
Something was off.
Not just with the Echo.
With all of this.
I exhaled, tilting my head back.
The sigil on my wrist pulsed faintly, as if waiting.
Mocking me.
Emil had said he couldn't stay.
But that didn't mean he wasn't still watching.
And if he was watching…
Had he known this would happen?
Had he planned for it?
Or was I alone in this?
I closed my eyes.
For now, there were too many questions.
And no good answers.
I stayed like that for a while.
Sitting in the dim glow of the chamber, surrounded by silence, my own thoughts louder than anything else.
Aiden hadn't interrupted.
He was still there, a few feet away, leaned back against a broken stone column, arms crossed, watching. He hadn't spoken since I woke up, just let me sit in it, let me think.
Like he knew I needed time.
Or maybe he just didn't care enough to fill the silence.
Either way, I wasn't about to complain.
The Echo inside me still pulsed, a steady, unnatural hum beneath my skin.
Incomplete.
Like an instrument missing half its strings.
I needed to understand it. To control it.
But right now?
Right now, we needed to get the hell out of here.
I pushed myself up, ignoring the ache in my limbs. The chamber around us was quiet, but the Blood Pit was above us, and I didn't doubt that someone had noticed the tremors from earlier.
Aiden's gaze flicked to me as I moved.
"Done thinking?"
His tone was easy, but there was something sharp underneath.
I rolled my shoulders, testing the stiffness.
"For now."
Aiden hummed, like he wasn't convinced, but he didn't push it.
I turned toward the tunnel leading out.
"We need to leave before someone comes looking."
Aiden smirked, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.
"Now you're thinking."
The underground paths stretched ahead, winding and dim.
I took the lead, my steps sure, even though my mind wasn't.
I knew these tunnels.
I had written them.
But something about walking them now made my skin crawl.
Like I was retracing a path I had taken before—only something had shifted when I wasn't looking.
"Where exactly are we going?"
Aiden's voice broke through the quiet.
I didn't slow.
"An old maintenance route. Sealed off years ago, but it still connects to the lower sectors of the city."
Aiden tilted his head slightly.
"You're sure about that?"
I met his gaze briefly.
"Yes."
The truth was, I wasn't.
Not entirely.
But I had to be.
Because if something else had changed—if even this wasn't the same—then I wasn't ready to face what that meant.
Not yet.
We reached the passage I remembered, a narrow opening in the rock barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through.
Aiden stopped beside it, eyeing the gap.
"...You've gotta be kidding me."
I ignored him, crouching down and slipping inside. The stone scraped against my back as I pushed through, the air colder here, stale from years of neglect.
A second later, Aiden followed with a low grunt.
The tunnel stretched ahead in a winding path, sloping upward.
I focused on the path ahead, on counting the turns, the steps.
Trying to ignore the way my Echo still felt… wrong.
Like it was waiting for something I didn't have.
Aiden was quiet as we walked, but he was watching.
Not just me.
Everything.
His gaze flicked over the walls, the ceiling, the way the tunnels curved. Like he was mapping it all in his head, making sure we weren't being led into a trap.
I almost scoffed.
As if I would let us walk into a dead-end.
But the thought made something uneasy settle in my chest.
If I wasn't in control of this power…
How much else could I be wrong about?
We reached the last stretch of the tunnel, a small service station built into the rock—an old checkpoint that hadn't been used in decades.
A rusted ladder led up toward a metal grate.
Our way out.
Aiden tilted his head back, eyeing the exit.
"Think it still opens?"
I didn't answer. Just climbed.
The metal groaned under my weight, dust raining down as I pushed against the grate.
It resisted at first.
Then—
A heavy creak as it gave way.
Cold air rushed in.
The dim glow of the Demon Realm's sky flickered above—deep reds and oranges blending into the ever-present smog.
We were out.
I pulled myself onto the rooftop of an abandoned storage building, Aiden following a second later.
For the first time since waking up, I let myself exhale.
We were far enough from the Pit now.
Safe.
For the moment.
Aiden stretched, rolling out his shoulders with a lazy grin.
"Well. That was fun."
I shot him a flat look.
He chuckled.
I turned toward the city below, watching as demons moved through the streets.
The Blood Pit wasn't far from here. But we had put enough distance between us.
No one was following.
No one had caught up yet.
We had made it.
And yet—
I felt no relief.
The sigil on my wrist still pulsed faintly, the Echo inside me still coiled like a beast waiting for something it would never receive.
A sword.
A weapon that wasn't here.
I flexed my fingers, trying to summon the power again.
It stirred.
Hesitated.
Then stilled.
Incomplete.
I swallowed hard, pressing a hand to my temple.
I still didn't know what had happened down there.
Did Emil?
Had he known?
Had he planned for it?
Or was I on my own?
Too many questions.
No good answers.
And now, with this new power tangled inside me, one thing was certain—
I had just stepped into something far bigger than I'd ever planned for.
And I wasn't sure if I could get out.