Chapter 6: The Echo Within
There was no light.
No sound.
No end.
Kellan floated in the abyss, untethered, unmade.
At first, he thought it was a dream.
Then the pain began.
It didn't strike all at once.
It grew a slow, blooming fire that started in his chest and crawled outward, searing nerve from nerve, thought from thought. His body convulsed, but there was no ground beneath him, no sky above him just the endless dark, swallowing every scream before it could leave his throat.
Shapes flickered at the edge of his vision not things, but impressions.
Hands reaching.
Mouths whispering.
Eyes, endless and hollow, staring into him, through him.
"You do not belong."
The voice wasn't spoken. It was carved directly into the marrow of his bones, a vibration that made his teeth ache and his mind bleed.
He fought against it, tried to wrench free but the more he struggled, the deeper the agony sank. His memories unraveled, twisted apart like wet paper.
He saw flashes of Technopolis the streets he once called home swallowed by shadow.
He saw Aria, Dex their faces warped into broken, wailing masks.
He saw himself a hollow man, a puppet dangling from a thousand unseen strings.
"You are nothing."
The words battered him, relentless.
Every doubt he had ever whispered to himself in the dark was thrown back at him, louder, sharper.
"You were left behind because you were weak."
" You survived because you were forgettable."
" You are alone because no one could ever need you."
He tried to scream, but the void ate the sound.
He sank deeper.
And deeper.
Until there was nothing left but the burning.
Kellan's mind was a battlefield, each thought a casualty in the war against the overwhelming darkness. The voices grew louder, a cacophony of accusations and doubts:
"You are a failure."
"They never needed you."
"You should stop before you make everything worse."
Each word was a dagger, slicing through the remnants of his sanity. Visions assaulted his memories twisted into nightmares. He saw his past mistakes magnified, his regrets personified, taunting him.
He clutched his head, trying to shut out the torment, but the Echo was relentless. It fed on his insecurities, amplifying them until they were all he could perceive.
In a moment of clarity amidst the chaos, a single thought emerged: "This isn't real." But the pain felt real, the voices felt real, and the despair was all consuming.
He screamed, a raw, primal sound that echoed into the void, swallowed by the darkness. Tears streamed down his face, unnoticed, as he curled into himself, seeking solace that wouldn't come.
Time lost meaning. Minutes felt like hours, hours like days. The Echo had no end, and Kellan's will was eroding.
But somewhere, deep within, a spark remained a flicker of resistance, a whisper of hope. It was faint, but it was there, waiting for him to grasp
The spark barely survived the next onslaught.
Before Kellan could reach it, the visions shifted again.
This time, they bled color into the darkness sickly greens and rotting golds that stained the endless black.
He saw strange things: tall, brown pillars rising from the ground, reaching for the sky with countless green arms that swayed and rustled. Massive and proud, their branches clawing at an endless blue blanket stretched far above.he didn't recognize.
A soft green carpet covering the ground, made of countless thin blades that sway together in the breeze. under a blindingly bright disc in the sky, radiating light across everything. It was too warm to be real.
Imagine small bursts of vibrant color erupting from the green carpet blooming in impossible shapes. Their delicate shapes unfolding into soft petals splashing color across the world like someone had spilled a painter's dreams.
Kellan staggered, reaching toward it awed, confused, desperate. He had never seen anything like this. Not in the metallic wastelands of Technopolis, not in the broken scraps of memory he clung to.
Was this real? Was this what the world once was?
But even as he marveled, the rot began.
He watched helplessly as everything twisted, blackening from within, the pillars splitting open with screams he could feel but not hear. The carpet shriveled, curling into ash. The clusters of petals melted into slick, oozing puddles, their vibrant colors bleeding away into dull gray sludge.
The warm ball of light itself flickered, sputtered, and died.
And the world withered with it.
Kellan fell to his knees in the fading field, hands clutching at soil that crumbled into dust between his fingers.
The air grew heavy with decay. The scent of death choked him, bitter and final.
"Filthy human, youare a ruin," the voices hissed. "You destroy all you touch."
He slammed his fists into the ground or what was left of it but there was no resistance, no weight. Only the endless collapse of everything beautiful into ruin.
I didn't do this! he tried to shout, but his mouth refused to work. His voice had been stolen by the void.
The images sharpened wounds carved into his mind.
Cities drowning in rivers of fire.
People turning to statues of salt and ash.
Familiar faces Aria, Dex, Juno each crumbling, reaching for him with hands he could never catch.
He sobbed, a broken sound that went nowhere, lost in the endless fall.
And somewhere beyond the rot and ruin, deeper still, something watched him.
Something ancient.
Something patient.
Something waiting for him to break completely.
The decay paused, replaced by a sudden, jarring stillness. Then, from the remnants of the withered landscape, figures emerged translucent, ethereal, and hauntingly familiar. They were not people he recognized, yet they exuded a sense of profound loss and desperation.
"Please help us," they whispered, voices like the rustling of dead leaves. "You are the key."
Kellan recoiled, the plea slicing through the cacophony of his mind. The figures reached out, their hands disintegrating into ash before they could touch him.
"Restore what was lost," another voice implored, echoing from the void. "Only you can mend the weave."
The visions intensified, bombarding him with images of a world teetering on the brink of collapse. Oceans boiling, skies torn asunder, and life extinguished in an instant. Amidst the chaos, the spectral figures continued their lament, their cries growing more urgent and sorrowful.
"We are the remnants," they chorused. "Fragments of a world forgotten."
Kellan clutched his head, the weight of their despair threatening to crush him. The line between his thoughts and the voices blurred, leaving him adrift in a sea of anguish.
"I can't... I don't understand," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
The figures began to fade, their forms dissolving into the darkness. Yet, their final words lingered, etched into his consciousness:
"Find the Anchors. Restore the balance."
As the last echo faded, Kellan was left alone in the void, the burden of their plea pressing heavily upon him.
"KELLAN!"
A voice thundered through the void, shattering the oppressive silence.
"KELLAN!"
He turned, disoriented, searching for the source. The darkness around him began to shift, coalescing into a landscape both alien and familiar. Dark towering pillars rising from the ground, their many arms reaching upwards, covered in countless flat, sharp shapes that gleam like polished black stone. These dark arms twist together high above, creating a canopy that flickers with a soft, strange light.
In the center of this surreal forest stood a figure a man with similar features to what Kellan saw when he looked in a mirror. The same brown hair and hazel eyes. He looked older, perhaps in his late 30s or early 40s, with a more mature appearance. He had a slightly weathered face with some lines around his eyes, and a strong jawline. He was wearing worn clothes he looked like he'd been running from someone or something.
"Dad?" Kellan whispered, his voice trembling.
The man spoke, a sorrowful smile playing on his lips. " Kellan, my son. I am sorry I wasn't there to see you grow, to guide you. If I was there with you I would have put your life in danger. I'm really sorry."
Kellan stepped closer, emotions swirling within him. "Why now? Why here?"
" The time has come for you to understand your purpose," his father continued and Kellan realized that this wasn't real it was either this space playing tricks on him or a recorded message.
Reaching into his robe, Kellan's father produced a pendant made of shimmering sapphire. "You possess the obsidian pendant, one of six. Each is linked to a corresponding Anchor like the one you came across before. They are ancient artifacts that can grow the different remnants of the old world and strengthen the Veil."
He paused, letting the information sink in before continuing. "The Enclave has taken one, the ruby pendant. If the Veil is lifted before the old world is strong enough, the remnants will be destroyed."
Kellan's mind raced, trying to grasp the magnitude of his father's words. "What must I do?" He whispered
"Seek out the remaining pendants: emerald, diamond, topaz, and amethyst. Unite them with their Anchors to restore balance. Only then can the Veil be lifted safely. Then you'll find me in you'll find me in synthos city."
As his father's form began to fade, the forest around them dissolved into mist. " When you get back talk to Juno tell her everything that has happened so far. You have to get stronger before you leave Technopolis." his voice echoed, "Remember, Kellan, you are the key to our salvation."