The Echo's chains rattled, tearing through the air with a screech of twisted metal.
But Cael didn't move.
The whispers were louder now, thrumming through his chest like a heartbeat out of sync with his own. His mind was clouded with something ancient, something that felt like it had been waiting, forever—waiting for him.
The runes on the walls sparked again, lighting in bright gold. The stone beneath him groaned, as if responding to his presence. His shadow stretched unnaturally, darkening the ground around him.
Eren's eyes widened, just slightly, as Cael's aura crackled to life. Even the Echo paused, its chains quivering in hesitation.
Speak the name… speak it… break it…
Without thinking, Cael whispered—no, commanded—a single word.
"Bind."
The air shifted. The ground buckled beneath the Echo's feet, and with an almost audible snap, the chains tightened—drawing the construct toward the center, as if something invisible had bound it in place.
Cael stumbled, his hand clutching his head as the whispers screamed in his mind. The power was too much. It surged through him in waves—cold, burning, suffocating.
Eren took a step forward, eyes sharp, studying Cael like a wolf watching prey. "What the hell are you doing?" His voice was low, barely a growl.
But Cael didn't answer. He couldn't. He was fighting to keep the connection, to hold the Echo in place. His skin was crawling, his muscles tense with the pressure of something he didn't fully understand.
The Echo writhed, thrashing against the invisible chains, but it couldn't break free. Slowly, its movements grew weaker. The glow from its chest flickered, its form sagging like a puppet with cut strings.
Then, with a final, shuddering groan, it collapsed to the ground in a heap of broken bone and ash.
Cael's breath was ragged. His hands were shaking, his body burning with exhaustion.
"What the hell was that?" Eren said again, this time louder, more urgent. "Who the hell are you?"
Cael's knees buckled, but he didn't fall. He stood, fighting the dizziness that spun his vision. The echo of the command still hummed in his mind. The power—the connection—it hadn't fully faded. It was still there, like a cold flame burning beneath his skin.
"I… don't know," Cael admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
Eren stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Cael. The respect was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous: caution. "You don't know? You're a liability."
"I didn't ask for this," Cael snapped, his breath still ragged. "I didn't—"
Eren held up a hand, cutting him off. "I don't care. What matters is that you've got something dangerous. And you're not the only one who's noticed."
The last words lingered in the air between them. Something unspoken. Something that could turn from potential ally to threat in an instant.
Cael took a slow breath, forcing himself to stay upright. The whispers still lingered, but now they had an edge. A purpose. He wasn't sure he was ready for this. Not at all.
But it was too late. The power was already awake.
"Let's move," Eren said, his tone all business again, though his eyes still flicked warily toward Cael. "This place is crawling with more than just Echoes. If you're done playing with things you don't understand, we can head to a safer spot."
Nyra, who had been watching in silence, finally spoke up, her voice sharp. "And if we don't trust you?"
Eren's eyes flicked to her, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Then you'll learn something real quick: the Wastes don't care if you trust me. They'll eat you alive either way."
For a moment, Cael considered his options. But only one stood out—survival. And if Eren was the only one who could help him survive the growing darkness he felt clawing at him, then so be it.
"Lead the way," Cael muttered.
Eren gave him a curt nod, his gaze flicking once more to Cael's exhausted, shaking form. "You'll need more than that if you're planning on living."