Kael stood still beneath the flickering fluorescence of the chamber's high arched ceiling, the faint hum of dormant technology vibrating through the soles of his boots. The resonance wasn't foreign anymore; it pulsed in tandem with his heartbeat, as though the place itself acknowledged his presence now. Something had changed since the fate-seal completed. His perception had expanded. Time felt like a ribbon he could twist. Shadows danced differently around him. The burden of fate now breathed with him, rather than weighing him down.
He wasn't alone.
Across the chamber, leaning against the wall with arms folded and a grin curling her lips, Syra observed him. Her presence was a constant contradiction—light, yet cloaked in obscurity. She hadn't spoken since they entered the chamber together, allowing Kael to feel every shift within himself uninterrupted.
"You felt it too, didn't you?" Kael finally said.
Syra nodded. "Your tether to the weave. It's no longer passive. You're part of the Echo now."
"The Echo?"
"It's what we call the deeper layer of fate—a mirrored reality tethered to our own. Some believe it's a memory of what the world was meant to be before the Shatter. Others think it's a reflection of the world's will." She walked forward, footsteps echoing like a drumbeat. "It's alive, Kael. And now, it sees you."
Kael ran a hand through his hair, strands prickling like they held static. The fate-seal on his palm shimmered, the mark a swirl of ancient runes pulsing with faint light. "What does it want from me?"
"Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. But you'll need to control it before it controls you. That's what the Echo Protocol is for."
Kael furrowed his brow. "Echo Protocol?"
Syra tapped a series of commands into the brass-rimmed console embedded in the wall. The chamber rumbled. Walls separated, revealing a subterranean stairwell glowing with blue-glass torches that hadn't been lit in centuries.
"We descend into the Mirrorgate. This is where echoes become reality."
---
The descent was long and steep. Kael felt the air thicken with every step, as though time moved slower here. Every footfall triggered a soft chime, the hallway seemingly humming to their rhythm. He noticed Syra tense more as they approached the threshold.
At the bottom, an immense door loomed before them. Forged of mirrored obsidian and covered in archaic glyphs, it shimmered with trapped reflections—none of them theirs.
Kael stepped forward and reached out. The fate-seal on his palm flared, and the door responded.
"Kael, wait!" Syra grabbed his wrist, pulling him back.
The door groaned, creaking open a sliver on its own.
"You shouldn't have been able to do that alone," she whispered, eyes wide. "Only a key-bearer who's passed the Echo Trial can open the Mirrorgate."
Kael blinked. "What if the Trial has already begun?"
Syra didn't answer. The door opened fully.
---
Inside the chamber, time lost all meaning.
Kael stood amidst a hall of mirrors—thousands of them. Each panel reflected not just his face, but moments in time. In one, he saw himself as a child, laughing with a woman who bore his eyes. In another, a battlefield strewn with bodies, Kael drenched in blood. A third showed him kneeling as a crown was lowered onto his head.
"None of these are illusions," Syra said, her voice subdued. "They're threads. Realities that might be, or have been."
Kael walked slowly, drawn to a mirror unlike the rest. It was cracked, and from its fracture bled light. When he touched it, a vision overtook him.
---
He stood in a desolate city, towers broken like bones, skies darkened with ash. A younger version of himself knelt before a throne forged of glass and flame. On it sat a man with Kael's face—but colder, older, eyes ablaze with madness.
"You took the mantle," Future-Kael said. "And now you've doomed them all."
Kael stumbled back, gasping as the vision shattered.
Syra caught him. "What did you see?"
"A warning," Kael muttered. "Of what I could become."
Syra looked at the cracked mirror. "Then that's your Echo. Your trial begins now."
---
For the next hours—maybe days, time was warped—Kael faced mirror after mirror. Each one tested his will, his fear, his ambition. He saw himself as tyrant, martyr, savior, and monster. Some mirrors pulled him in, forcing him to live lifetimes in seconds. He drowned in choices, clawed through regrets, and stood trial before his own subconscious.
Through it all, Syra guided him, never interfering, but always near.
At last, Kael found himself before the final mirror. It bore no reflection, only a void.
"What's this one?" he asked.
Syra touched his shoulder. "The echo that hasn't been written yet. It's yours to create."
Kael reached out. Light exploded.
---
When he awoke, he was lying on the obsidian floor. The fate-seal had changed. It now spiraled around his arm, the markings deeper, flowing with color and life.
Syra knelt beside him, a soft smile on her lips. "You survived. You passed the Echo Protocol."
Kael sat up slowly. "What does it mean?"
"That you're no longer bound by fate. You're one of its authors now."
Kael stared into the chamber as the mirrors faded into mist.
He was ready.
For whatever came next.