The proof came days later. Echo was deep in meditation in the grove, circulating energy through his Vitalis Core and the Quint-Bond, consciously practicing "Synthesis" by harmonizing the different energies of his mates within himself.
As he reached a state of profound, peaceful unity, something shifted.
Not in the Sanctuary. Not in the Gloom.
In his blood. In the deepest layer of his anomaly core, the spark born of the dead multiverses… vibrated.
It wasn't a sound. It was a sympathetic resonance. Like a tuning fork humming because another, identical fork was struck far away.
For a single, dizzying second, his consciousness was yanked across dimensions. He didn't see Earth, but he felt its cosmic address, its unique vibrational frequency in the multiversal choir. And within that frequency, he felt a null point. A perfect, silent hole where the Chaos Crystal rested, its infinite potential cancelling out all local reality waves.
The connection lasted a heartbeat before snapping. Echo slumped forward, his nose bleeding crimson and silver.
But he had felt it. He had locked on.
And as he came back to himself, gasping, the Sanctuary's long-range sensors, which Kiera had been obsessively monitoring, chimed in alarm.
"Multiple slip-space ruptures," Ryn announced, her voice tight. "At the extreme edge of the Gloom. Order battleship signatures. And… Corrupted hive-fleet tendrils. They're not fighting each other. They're just… arriving. And holding position."
Kiera's face was grim. "They felt it. The Grand Design has proxies in both fleets. Your little 'ping' just told them the key is active and in the Gloom. They're not attacking because they don't know where yet. They're bottling us up. Waiting for you to ring the dinner bell again."
They were now trapped in the Gloom, with two of the universe's most powerful armies waiting like sharks outside a reef.
Echo's growth was no longer just about healing. It was a race against time. He had to master Synthesis enough to control the resonance, to find the Crystal on his own terms, before the Design's armies triangulated his position and tore the Gloom apart to get to him.
The pressure was cosmic. The stakes were infinite.
And the only path forward was deeper into the very power that would make him the target of all creation.