Not from cold—though the air was sharp enough to slice skin—but from a persistent sense of being watched.
Ash was already on his feet, hackles bristled. Lira, blade in hand, scanned the mists.
No birdsong.
No breeze.
Just that strange stillness that meant something had shifted.
System Alert:
Night Cycle Analysis Complete
Pulse Echo Adaptation – Passive Scan Active
Notable Discovery: Residual Essence Detected in Environmental Layer
Classification: Tier-2 Will Anchor [Dormant State]
Effect: Pulling Cognitive Intrusions From Echo-Tied Entities
Recommended Action: Investigate OR Leave Radius Immediately.
“Cognitive intrusions?” Khal mumbled, still groggy.
“What’s the system saying now?” Lira asked, frowning.
He rubbed his eyes. “Something about an anchor… a Will Anchor.”
Lira’s eyes widened. “That’s not minor. That’s ancient enchantment work—someone tied their presence to this place. You don’t find those by accident.”
“…Or it doesn’t want us to think it’s an accident,” Khal muttered.
They moved slowly toward the mist-filled pond. At its center, a single obsidian stone jutted from the ground—sleek, smooth, and very much out of place.
Even the light around it seemed stilled.
System Notice:
Will Anchor – Obsidian Type [Unclaimed]
Trait Synergy Detected: Pulse Echo (Sensitivity Threshold Surpassed)
Condition Met: Proximity → Mental Interface Available.
Warning: Emotional Turbulence May Occur. Proceed?
[Y/N]
Khal hesitated. “Every time I say yes to one of these, I either hallucinate or vomit.”
“Or both,” Lira added dryly.
“Thanks for the confidence.”
He selected [Y].
The world inverted.
Not literally—but internally.
He was still standing. Still breathing. But his thoughts weren’t just his own anymore.
He saw…
-
A throne of rusted iron, towering atop a desert of bones.
-
Eyes without faces, watching through mirrors that didn’t reflect.
-
A child screaming into a hollowed-out sun.
And then—
A voice.
Smooth. Polished. Wrong.
“Do you enjoy the taste of questions, Khal Dreikov?”
He staggered backward. The voice was inside him—but not his.
System Alert:
Mental Layer Intrusion Detected.
Will Anchor Owner Identified: “Mirai of the Glass Veil” – Observer Class Entity, Affiliated with Specter Division (Mirek’s Network)
Status: Deceased
Note: Echoes of this entity remain. Not hostile. Contains fragments of knowledge.
A dead observer? Khal steadied himself. “What do you want?”
“Want? Khal, we are past wanting. I was eyes and ears for a shadow no one remembers. I saw things Mirek buried, locked in echoes no one else could find.”
“You’re growing. But not fast enough. He doesn’t kill problems. He folds them into riddles and makes them kill themselves.”
The voice faded.
System Update:
New Subtrait Acquired – [Echo Requiem]
Type: Sensory/Interpretive
Effect: When exposed to spectral residues or anchored thoughts, user can extract pattern-based premonitions. Accuracy tied to stability.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Stability Rating: Low (17%) – Subject to hallucinations and misinterpretation.
Upgrade Conditions: Maintain Mental Clarity During Tier-3 Cognitive Event.
Khal swore. “So now I’m a walking creepy whisper translator.”
Lira handed him water. “And a charming one at that.”
He gulped it down and wiped his mouth. “They’re setting up something. I don’t know what. But it involves more than just me.”
Lira nodded. “And they’ve started moving.”
Far across the valley, deep within an underground crypt of mirrored corridors, Mirek stood over a glowing orb, watching as Khal pulled himself away from the anchor.
“Ah,” he murmured, “you touched Mirai’s echo after all.”
He turned to his gathered lieutenants—each unique in terror and temperament.
Solva, the Blade-Seamstress, who stitched corpses into dolls with combat routines.
Dren, the Face-Eater, who wore a new personality every sunrise.
Kaelren, the man with no shadow, but three smiles—none of them sincere.
“He’s adapting,” Mirek said, sipping crimson tea.
“Shall we accelerate the plan?” Solva asked, fingers twitching.
“No,” he whispered. “We let him grow. It makes the breaking so much more satisfying.”
Back at the camp, Khal sat beside Ash and whispered, “They're not just coming after me. They're playing something deeper.”
He looked up at the stars.
“I need to be better. Smarter. And… less scared.”
Ash licked his cheek.
“Thanks for the support. You’re a great therapy dog.”
System Prompt:
Emotional Alignment Check: [Steady]
Trait Stability: +5%
Hidden Trait Condition Progression: “Heart of Becoming” – Threshold 2/5 unlocked.
The stars blinked above.
But somewhere… beneath them… shadows blinked back.
Sleep didn’t come easy that night.
Even with the Will Anchor deactivated and no further cognitive intrusions detected, Khal felt like his head was an overstuffed satchel—buzzing, spinning, too full of things that didn’t belong.
Ash was curled up beside him, warmth radiating through the young hound’s thick fur. Lira had taken first watch. Her silhouette, backlit by the soft glow of a small flame charm, cast long shadows on the tree bark.
The camp was silent. But Khal’s mind was loud.
“You’re adapting… but not fast enough.”
That voice haunted him. Not because it was threatening—but because it sounded tired. Like a warning whispered too late.
Khal sat up and activated the system interface with a thought.
System Interface: Active
Core Trait – Heart of Becoming [Threshold Progress: 2/5]
Subtraits Unlocked:
– Pulse Echo [Sensory]
– Echo Requiem [Interpretive – Unstable]
– Adversity Bloom [Locked: Unlock Condition Pending]
– ??? [Sealed]
Suggested Next Path: Trait Synergy Testing – Combine Pulse Echo + Echo Requiem in a controlled environment. Risk: Moderate. Potential: Unknown.
"Controlled environment," Khal muttered, glancing at the fog-stained forest around them. “Yeah. This is the perfect place.”
Ash opened one eye and gave him a “you’re an idiot” look.
He chuckled quietly, rubbing the hound’s ears. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to throw myself into any more brain-eating rocks tonight.”
Still, he stood. Walked a little away from camp. Just enough to feel like he was alone.
He took a deep breath.
“Okay. Let’s try something.”
Initiating Synergy Mode…
Subtraits Selected:
Pulse Echo + Echo Requiem
Warning: Echo Requiem Instability at 83%. Expect emotional fragmentation.
Proceed? [Y/N]
Khal didn’t hesitate this time. [Y]
The moment he accepted, the world vibrated.
Not shook—vibrated.
Like a tuning fork had been struck inside his bones.
The air became thick, tinged with color. Every tree shimmered slightly, like it was almost transparent. Khal’s eyes widened.
He could feel resonance in the land around him. Echoes of actions past.
In the clearing he stood in, something had happened months ago. A skirmish. He could hear grunts. A blade slicing wind. A scream—
“Wait—don’t—!” A child’s voice.
Then silence.
A flicker.
A ghost of a moment. A red-haired boy swinging a wooden sword… facing off against a black-armored figure.
Then gone.
System Update:
Echo Residue Interpreted: 37% Clarity
Memory Fragment Reconstructed: Battle Drill Gone Awry. Local Loss – One Casualty.
Emotional Tagging: Regret / Misunderstanding / Resolve
Bonus XP Gained: +42 (Emotion-Aligned Analysis)
Trait Progress: Echo Requiem Instability Dropped to 73%
Khal gasped.
“This… this is incredible,” he whispered.
It wasn’t just sight—it was feelings. He could feel what the land remembered. Like walking into a story someone forgot to finish.
But more than that—
It was training.
He took out his practice dagger. “Let’s see if I can react to an echo.”
He focused again. Another shimmer.
Two figures. Sparring. One faintly resembled a woman with dual daggers. The other, slower but stronger, used a hammer.
They danced. Moved with purpose.
Khal shadowed their steps. Mimicked the movements. Failed. Tried again.
Slipped.
Fell.
Got up.
System Note:
Adaptive Muscle Pattern Detected – Memory Combat Emulation
Trait Synergy Path Unlocked: “Echo Mirror – Formless Style” [0.2% Mastery]
Progression Requires: Repeat motion under increasing stress.
Khal grinned, panting.
This—this was how he trained. Not just by swinging until his arms gave out. But learning from the echoes.
And the system wasn’t giving him power.
It was giving him context. Framework. A blueprint for becoming more than just a survivor.
When he finally returned to camp, Lira was resting with one eye open.
“You okay?” she asked.
Khal smiled, wiping sweat from his brow. “I think I figured out a training method. It involves ghost kung fu.”
She blinked. “What.”
“I’ll explain in the morning.”
Ash whined like he wanted no part of any ghost kung fu nonsense.
Far beyond the valley, in Mirek’s hidden hall, a massive mirror fogged over. It displayed a flicker of Khal mimicking spectral warriors.
Mirek’s smirk thinned.
“He’s starting to read echoes. That’s dangerous.”
Kaelren spoke, tone light. “You said we let him grow.”
“I did,” Mirek nodded. “But I never said how far.”
He tapped a chess piece—shaped like a child’s toy soldier—and knocked it from the board.
“Time to see what he does when the past fights back.”