The spire loomed taller with every step Ren took—yet no matter how far he walked, it never seemed closer.
It didn't rise.
It hovered—like a memory that refused to fade.
The grass beneath his feet bent with each footfall, but Ren wasn't sure if it was real or just being polite. El'therra, this "soul-made world," still pulsed faintly with his thoughts, but now… something else bled into the seams. Something that didn't belong.
Beside him, Gloop hopped erratically—jittering, pulsing, and making wet blorp sounds every few seconds. The little slime wasn't scared, but excited. His normally bouncy form was quivering with neon glimmers.
Ren raised an eyebrow. "You know something I don't, buddy?"
Blorp!
"Right. That narrows it down."
Lys caught up beside them, expression cold. "That tower doesn't come from this world. Or from you. Which means something external forced its way in."
"You said this place mirrors the traveler's soul, right?" Ren asked, slowing down. "So… if it's not mine—whose echo is it?"
The answer came from the air.
A hum. A tone. A note, long and deep, like a monk chanting through a cathedral of bones.
Then the sky tore.
Not cracked. Not rippled.
Tore—a jagged slit peeling back the atmosphere like paper, revealing something beyond the curtain.
Out of the tear stepped a figure.
But not a man.
Not a monster.
An echo.
A silhouette made of light, shadows, and glitching memories. Its body shimmered in broken frames, flickering between a thousand appearances: cloaked traveler, scaled beast, crowned hero, masked executioner, and once—for the briefest heartbeat—a figure that looked exactly like Ren.
It stood still.
Watching him.
Mirroring him.
Ren's mouth went dry.
"That's—"
"The Echo That Walks," Lys whispered. "A fragment left behind by a traveler who lost himself in the multiverse."
The Echo moved.
One step. No sound. No breath. But the world bent where it stood, like even El'therra didn't know how to handle it.
Gloop immediately slammed into Ren's leg and shimmered bright red.
Ren's heart raced—but he didn't move. "Is it alive?"
"It's what happens," Lys said slowly, "when someone journeys too far across realities without anchoring their soul. They… split. Echoes get left behind. Some harmless. Some hungry."
The Echo tilted its head.
Then it spoke—but not in words.
Images. Memories. Bursts of Ren's childhood, fears, and moments he hadn't thought about in years. A memory of a mountain hike with his mom. A scene of him giving up during high school exams. A flash of his first time teleporting in Cindale.
Then it projected something new.
A world Ren had never seen.
A future—possibly his own—where cities floated in rings of golden flame, and his name was written in the sky as Catalyst of Collapse.
The Echo didn't wait for reaction.
It lunged.
No warning. No buildup. Just a flicker of motion and then—BOOM—
The field shattered.
Ren tumbled backward, slamming into the dirt. A pain bloomed in his ribs. Gloop screeched and swelled into a wobbling wall of jelly, shielding him from a second pulse of raw psychic force.
Lys raised both hands. "Ren! You can't fight it like a monster! You have to anchor yourself—remind this world who you are!"
"I'm trying!" Ren shouted, coughing. "But apparently there are like seventeen versions of me, and one of them wants to punch my future in the face!"
The Echo loomed over him.
It didn't move like a person. It moved like a question—constantly changing form, constantly asking:
Is this you? Is this who you'll become?
Ren's hand closed around the ground. Dirt. Real or imagined. Didn't matter.
"I'm not a prophecy."
His voice echoed.
"I'm not a ghost."
The air rippled.
"I'm me. Right here. Right now."
A light burst from his chest.
Not a spell. Not a weapon.
Just clarity.
The Echo froze.
Its forms flickered, glitching, shaking—until the version that looked like him stuck. A perfect mirror. Same expression. Same clothes. Same burn on the right sleeve.
Ren stood slowly.
The two locked eyes.
And then—without a word—the Echo nodded…
…and vanished.
Not banished. Not destroyed.
Just… remembered.
As if acknowledging: You passed this time.
The sky stitched itself shut. The tower dissolved like mist. El'therra slowly returned to its dreamlike calm.
Ren fell to his knees, gasping.
Gloop immediately climbed onto his shoulder and let out a smug little gluuuup.
Lys exhaled. "You just faced an Echo and lived."
"I'm starting to think this world is too honest."
"You survived because you believed in the version of yourself that mattered. That's the first step to anchoring across universes."
Ren stood. "How many more steps are there?"
Lys gave a sly smile. "Oh, you'll lose count."