The constructs didn't move again—not yet. But their heads had turned, and their stone faces watched Kael with silent intent.
He still held the mirrored shard, its glow now dim but pulsing in slow rhythm. The Echoheart beneath his shirt vibrated in sync with it, as if the two relics recognized one another.
"I don't like this," Elira said, her voice low. "That shard changed something."
Kael didn't argue. "It didn't change anything. It revealed it."
Tovan grunted. "Semantics. I say we walk away before something else wakes up."
Kael turned his gaze deeper into the city. "We're already inside. There's no turning back."
They passed under a crumbling arch, the plaza behind them growing still and silent once more. The city narrowed into winding streets, buildings rising like broken ribs on either side. But the light changed as they walked—not just dimming, but shifting.
A flash—and the street around them was whole. Clean stone, banners fluttering above. People walked the avenues in silken robes, soldiers in glimmering armor nodded as Kael passed.
He blinked—and it was gone.
Ruins again. Dust and silence.
"I just saw…" Kael's voice trailed.
"I saw it too," Elira said quietly. "This place is playing back its own memories."
"Or ours," Tovan muttered.
The further they walked, the stranger it became. Shadows moved where there was no light. The same woman passed them twice—once weeping, once smiling. A child laughed in the corner of Kael's vision, then vanished when he turned.
At the heart of a sunken courtyard stood a tall structure—a fractured monument of dark crystal and steel, surrounded by crumbled pillars. Glyphs circled its base, pulsing with faint color.
The Echoheart beat harder.
Kael stepped toward it without thinking.
"Careful," Elira warned. "It's active."
"I know," Kael said. "It's waiting for this."
As he approached, the shard in his hand flared—and the monument answered.
The world shattered.
Light. Noise. Wind like screaming voices.
Kael staggered forward, but he was no longer in the courtyard.
He stood on a high tower balcony, looking over the city—whole and shining.
His hands were not his own. Armor heavier. His breath, steadier.
From below, panic surged. People fled across the streets. The sky split open in the distance, a black crack spilling light. Energy bled through the wound in reality.
A voice called behind him. A woman—one Kael couldn't see—spoke in a rush.
"The Seal's failing. We can't hold it. If memory survives, the cycle begins again."
He turned—and the world collapsed into fire.
He fell to his knees in the present.
The monument pulsed once, then went dark.
Elira caught him. "What did you see?"
Kael could barely speak. "I was… I was one of them. One of the last. Before it all fell."
Tovan stood back, hand on his weapon. "So you're part of this city's memory now. Fantastic."
He stared hard at Kael. "You sure you're still you? Because that relic's starting to look like it knows you better than we do."
Kael looked down at the shard in his hand. The glow had faded—but the Echoheart was still pulsing. Faster now. Urgent.
The Echoheart beat faster, almost triumphant. Kael wasn't sure if it was calling him deeper... or driving him forward.
"I think I was meant to finish what they couldn't," he said. "And whatever they sealed… it's not gone."
A grinding sound echoed through the stone.
They turned.
One of the constructs from the plaza stood at the edge of the courtyard. Its eyes were lit with mirrored light—the same as the shard. It stepped forward slowly, stone limbs moving with mechanical grace.
Then it spoke, its voice layered and ancient:
"Bearer confirmed. Initiate threshold trial."
The ground trembled. Glyphs lit beneath their feet. Stone retracted around the monument, revealing a spiral staircase descending into the dark.
Kael met the construct's gaze.
"We're in it now," he said.
And the City remembered.