The shards floated.Each one spun around Vael.Each one whispered.
Not words.Images.Feelings.
He saw a city in gold.A throne untouched by blood.Children laughing in streets without war.
Then—Fire.A crown raised.The same crown he now wore.
Nyra gasped beside him."The Echo… it's not showing the future. It's showing what was lost."
Reylen stared into the light.His hand trembled."Why does it hurt to look?"
Eron didn't speak.His one eye was wide.He had seen this before.
The figure formed fully.No face.Just shifting light and shadow.
The Echo stepped forward.Not walking.Flowing.
"You wear the weight.But do you remember the promise?"
Vael's voice was raw."What promise?"
The room pulsed.
And suddenly—Vael was no longer there.
He stood on a battlefield.
Not as Vael.As someone else.
Older.Stronger.Alone.
Soldiers cried his name.Worshiped him.Feared him.
He wore the crown.He ruled.
And then—he broke it.
Smashed it against the ground.Screamed into the sky.
"ENOUGH!"
Vael staggered back.Returned to the present.
He fell to one knee.Sweating.Breathing like he'd run for miles.
Nyra held him."What did you see?"
Vael stared at the shards."I was him. The first."
Eron approached slowly."Then you saw why this place is sealed."
"The crown… it was broken," Vael whispered."But someone remade it."
The Echo's voice returned.Colder now.
"You are walking the same path.You will end the same way."
"No," Vael said.
"You cannot change your end.You are the crown now."
Reylen drew his blade."You speak like a god."
"I am not god," the Echo replied."I am the truth you bury."
Then—It attacked.
Light and shadow became blades.The room shook.
Vael rose, eyes black.The crown responded.Dark tendrils lashed out.
But this time—He wasn't fighting to win.
He was fighting to break free.