The Echoform screeched as [Hollow Flare I] hit, staggering back with a hiss that cracked the air.
Riven didn't wait.
He sprinted straight at the creature while it was off-balance. No weapon. Just momentum. His shoulder slammed into its gut and drove it back into the low wall beside the tram rail.
The impact rang through his bones.
It didn't fall.
It snarled.
Its skin—if it could be called that—shimmered in and out of focus. For a second, it looked like flesh. Then metal. Then a warped statue of his old instructor, cracked open and unfinished.
"Failed again," it rasped.
He ignored it.
The crowd was already scattering. Screams rose around him like static, growing louder, sharper. A man yelled something incoherent from behind a food stall. Someone dropped their phone. A car slammed to a stop.
And the creature—
It was still changing.
Still remembering him.
Still trying to become something worse.
It lunged.
Riven rolled aside, barely clearing its grasp as one clawed hand tore through concrete like paper.
[Cooldown: 21s]
Not enough time to use the flare again.
He ducked under a second swipe and drove his elbow into what passed for its ribs. It didn't flinch. Didn't bleed. Just shifted—like it was learning from him. Like it was syncing.
A mimic.
Of his own past.
His failure.
Its voice turned guttural. "You watched her die."
He grabbed a broken pipe from the ground and swung.
The pipe bent.
The Echoform didn't.
[Cooldown: 11s]
The creature snarled and backhanded him into a bench.
Pain lanced up his spine. His vision blurred.
Someone screamed his name.
He blinked.
No.
No one here knew his name.
But—
A child's voice?
No, a memory.
Kara?
He pushed himself up, coughing. Blood filled his mouth. The creature was closing in, faster now.
[Cooldown: 3s]
He raised his hand.
"Come on…"
[Hollow Flare I – ACTIVATED]
The pulse struck the Echoform in the face at point-blank range.
This time, it staggered fully. A crack split down its form like shattered glass refracting through water.
Riven grabbed the bent pipe again and drove it through the gap.
The Echoform shrieked.
Not words this time—just noise. Feedback. Static.
The crowd had thinned. Some still watched from behind parked cars or frozen mid-escape. A few recorded. Too many eyes.
The System had warned him.
Visibility.
[System Alert: Civilian Exposure Threshold – 13%]
[Instability Rating Increased]
He didn't have time to care.
The Echoform twisted around the pipe like it was absorbing it. Its body flexed, snapped, and reformed. The human shape was fading now, replaced by something more primal—jagged, crawling, smoke-wrapped.
Riven stepped back, breathing hard.
His mark pulsed.
[Skill Amplifier Available – First Use Bonus: Echo Surge]
He didn't know what that was.
But he didn't hesitate.
[Echo Surge – Activated]
The flare in his palm exploded into something brighter. Stronger. A silver-white rush of anchor energy burst outward like a wave.
The Echoform didn't resist this time.
It cracked.
Fractured.
Collapsed in on itself like a dying star.
And vanished.
[Thread Collapse Complete.]
[System Sync: 9% → 13%]
[Echo Surge Consumed – Cooldown Locked]
Riven dropped to one knee.
His breath came hard. His ribs burned. His hand was shaking.
But it was done.
The ripple was gone.
The thread sealed.
Around him, civilians were murmuring, filming, screaming, or frozen in place.
One man took a step forward. "What the hell was that?"
Another said, "Did anyone else see it? That—thing?"
Someone shouted, "He killed it!"
He rose slowly.
Not in triumph.
In dread.
[System Warning: Public Exposure Risk High]
[You Are Now Being Observed]
A new window appeared. This one darker. Sharper.
[Warden-Class Surveillance Node Engaged]
Riven turned in a slow circle.
No drones in sight.
No cameras active.
But something was watching.
A cold presence—like a fingerprint pressed to the base of his neck.
He walked.
Not fast.
Just away.
Let them think what they wanted.
Hero.
Terrorist.
Freak.
None of it mattered.
What mattered was that he'd stopped the ripple. That no one had died. That this timeline still had a chance.
[Thread Status: STABLE]
[Next Detected Fluctuation: Unknown]
He passed through the edge of the plaza and into the side streets beyond.
Some civilians pointed. Some stared. One woman tried to stop him.
He didn't answer.
The Mark on his wrist glowed faintly, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. His steps slowed as he reached a quiet stretch of brick wall beside a café under construction.
He leaned against it and breathed.
And there she was.
Elira.
She stepped out from behind the far corner, arms crossed, silver hair catching the wind.
"You're not supposed to be visible yet," she said.
"I didn't have a choice."
"I know."
He looked up at her. "They saw it. All of it."
"They'll forget. Or they'll be forced to."
"What do you mean?"
"The System has protocols to suppress memory. But it's fragmenting. Breaking. It can't cover everything anymore."
He looked back toward the plaza. "Then what happens next?"
"You'll be noticed. You already are."
"By who?"
She didn't answer right away.
Then: "By those who survive off the failure of threads. Wardens. Observers. Entities that don't want this version to succeed."
"Then I'll make sure it does."
"That's not a promise you can keep."
"I don't care."
Elira looked at him for a long time.
Then nodded.
"You'll need to be stronger."
"I will be."
A pause.
Then—
"There's another ripple," she said.
He didn't flinch. "Where?"
She tilted her head toward the skyline. "Not far. But this one's not like the others."
"How bad?"
"It echoes something personal. Something older."
"Then I'll face it."
"You don't have to go alone."
He paused. "You're offering to come?"
"No." She turned. "I'm offering to stay just long enough."
With that, she vanished into the wind like she was never there.
Riven looked down at his hands.
At the flickering Mark.
At the blood on his sleeve that hadn't been there an hour ago.
He straightened.
And walked toward the next ripple.
Whatever waited there—
He would not run.
Not again.