It started with snow.
Not the soft kind, but sharp, unnatural flakes that cut through the smog-heavy sky like shards of glass. In the middle of Sector Nine—where heat shimmered off rooftops and tech glowed neon—snow didn't fall.
Caleb felt it before he saw it. The air grew still. Not cold—silent. The Aether around him pulled tight, like it was holding its breath.
He was tracking another anomaly with Jarek, but the veteran warrior froze in his tracks.
"That's not natural," Jarek murmured.
Then he turned slowly. His hand moved to the hilt of his blade. "He's here."
"Who?" Caleb asked.
A voice answered for him.
"Your reflection."
The snow parted like a curtain, revealing a lone figure standing atop a ruined transport. Cloak white as bone. Eyes pale silver. His breath didn't fog the air—he was colder than the ice around him.
Kael Vireyn.
Caleb's heart skipped. He didn't know how, but something about Kael's presence felt… familiar. Too familiar.
Kael didn't move. He simply looked at Caleb. Measured him.
"You're the Echo," Kael said softly. "I wanted to see what all the chaos was about."
Caleb narrowed his eyes. "And you are?"
Kael smiled—thin, almost kind. "The mistake that didn't stay buried."
He stepped down from the transport. With each movement, frost spread along the ground. Time felt slower, heavier. Even the wind didn't dare breathe near him.
Jarek stepped forward. "This isn't your fight, Kael."
"But it is." Kael didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. "He's unshaped. Untamed. Dangerous."
"I'm standing right here," Caleb snapped. "If you've got something to say—"
Kael vanished.
One blink, and he was behind Caleb.
Jarek barely deflected the strike that followed. Steel rang against frost-bladed ice, and sparks lit the snow.
Kael didn't attack again. "I'm not here to kill him. Not today. I came to test him."
Jarek growled. "This isn't a sparring arena."
"Every battlefield is a classroom." Kael turned his eyes back to Caleb. "Let's see if the storm favors you."
Caleb raised his hands. The Aether inside him stirred, coiling tighter, faster—responding to Kael's presence like it recognized something ancient.
Kael moved first.
Caleb reacted on instinct. He threw a wall of force forward, but Kael slid through it—like mist. His fist met Caleb's jaw and sent him skidding across the ground. Frost burned into his skin where he landed.
"Your reaction time is slow. Unfocused."
Caleb wiped blood from his lip. "Bite me."
He surged forward, this time weaving the Echo energy around his arms—learning from Kael's own precision. He didn't blast blindly. He shaped it.
They clashed. Aether against Aether. Ice cracked. Air warped.
And for a brief second, Caleb matched him.
Kael's expression didn't change. But his stance shifted.
Interesting.
Then Kael vanished again.
This time, he reappeared behind Jarek, blade aimed for the neck. It was a feint—but a pointed one.
"Let's not forget," Kael whispered, "he still needs a leash."
That's when Caleb snapped.
Energy exploded from him—not just a wave, but a pulse. Echo reacting to emotion, forming spikes of kinetic energy in all directions. Kael stumbled back—not from damage, but surprise.
"Good," he said quietly. "You're waking up."
And then he was gone.
No flash. No sound. Just falling snow.
Jarek exhaled. "That was Kael Vireyn. And if he's interested in you… the Council won't be far behind."
Caleb clenched his fists.
Kael hadn't come to kill him. Not yet.
He'd come to send a message:
You're not the only one changing. And the next time we meet, you'd better be ready.