The Veil pulsed like a living wound in the distance, and I stood just outside its reach. There was something about it—like stepping through would mean stepping out of who I was. So I waited.
But waiting didn't mean nothing was happening.
The Breathing Forest whispered differently now. Not with danger—but with stories. Through the Adaptive Soul, I began to feel... others. Not faces or names, but flickers of memory. Pressure. Strain. Pain.
It was like hearing footsteps across a dream.
And then, I saw them—not in front of me, but in some deeper layer of the LAW. Their LAW marks were alive. And through the connection, I glimpsed them. Not fully. But enough.
---
The first vision came with fire and sorrow.
A man knelt beside a pile of ash. He wore a long black coat, a smooth silver mask, and his hands trembled as they hovered over the burned remains of what looked like a child's tunic.
He didn't cry.
"Forge," he whispered.
His LAW trait pulsed—silver lines glowing across his forearms. The ashes shimmered, and from them, a shape formed in his hand: a blade, pale and flickering, carved from memory.
Images spilled out. A child's laugh. A blue scarf. A wooden sword.
"I'll remember you," Syrien said, standing. "And I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
Behind him, the air split—something massive stepped through, dragging chains made of rusted echoes. A corrupted Called. An Echo.
Syrien turned, raising the blade of memory.
"No more forgetting."
---
The second vision was rain and rust.
A half-shattered tower, far from any road. Rain dripped through holes in the stone roof. A girl sat inside, swinging her legs over a ledge, humming a broken tune.
She wore mismatched boots, a dull blade at her side, and a long red scarf she clutched tightly. Her LAW mark pulsed faintly on her collarbone: mirror-shaped, silver-blue.
She wasn't sad—but there was a heaviness to her.
Her name whispered into my mind: Maika Rho.
Her brother had been Called too. Once. She hadn't seen him since his trial. She feared the worst—that he'd become an Echo. But she refused to give up.
"If I ever see you again," she said softly to the wind, "I'll remind you who you were."
Then—a sound. Footsteps.
Someone was in the tower.
She stood, drew her blade, and her LAW shimmered—her body glinting like a reflection catching light.
"If you're here to kill me," she said, "wait until the song ends."
And then the power lit in her eyes—someone else's power. Copied. Mirrored.
---
The last vision was war and silence.
Korr stood in a field of broken stone. Five bodies around him. All Called. All dead.
His armor groaned as it shifted, growing, fusing with the last man's broken weapon. His LAW trait, Iron Requiem, let him absorb traits of those he defeated—but at a cost. He was slower now. Heavier. Colder.
He looked at his reflection in a shard of a helmet.
Less man. More machine.
Behind a fallen wall, a child trembled—no older than ten. Not a Called. Just a witness.
Korr walked to him and knelt.
"Take this," he said, offering a small silver coin.
The boy looked up, scared.
"Live. Grow strong. If you're Chosen… find me."
Then Korr rose, turned toward the dark skies, and marched on.
---
I sat near the Veil, heartbeat slow.
I didn't know why I could see them. Maybe it was my LAW awakening more. Maybe it was a side effect of nearing the Veil. Or maybe… these people were like me. The LAW was pulling us together.
I didn't know them yet.
But I would.
Because something was building in this world. I could feel it every time I breathed. LAW wasn't just a gift or a trial—it was a gravity. A force pulling Called together. To test us. To break us.
Or to change us.
The forest rustled softly behind me. But I didn't turn to look.
I was no longer afraid of what walked behind me.
I was curious about what waited ahead.