The image of the hollow-eyed man refused to leave my mind.
Even as I stepped back into the sunlight, even as the noise of the guild faded behind me, that brief moment of eye contact replayed again and again.
Not hostile.
Not curious.
Resigned.
Like someone who had already paid the price—and was still paying it.
[Guardian-adjacent entity: Unidentified.]
[Threat assessment: Inconclusive.]
That, somehow, was worse than a warning.
I moved through the streets without a destination, letting the crowd carry me while my thoughts churned.
Another Guardian.
Or something close enough to set the Authority Fragment trembling.
Which meant two things.
First—what I was had existed before.
Second—I wasn't special.
And that scared me more than being alone.
I stopped at the edge of a quiet plaza where an old stone monument stood half-buried in moss. Its inscription had been weathered beyond recognition, letters worn smooth by time and neglect.
Forgotten.
Fitting.
I sat on the edge of the monument and stared at my hands.
"Echo," I murmured.
The name felt… thin. Temporary. Like a placeholder slapped over a wound that hadn't healed.
But it was mine. For now.
[Notice.]
[Temporary Identifier accepted.]
I closed my eyes.
What am I going to do?
Hide, live quietly, take low-rank guild jobs. Avoid seals. Avoid fragments. Let the world rot at a safe distance.
I could survive that way.
Probably.
Then the memories from the ruined library surfaced again.
The seal cracking.
The construct forming.
The way forgotten magic didn't disappear—it decayed.
If I hadn't interfered, people would have died. And worse—no one would ever remember why.
I exhaled slowly.
"There's no safe path," I said quietly.
Only choices.
The Authority Fragment pulsed once, heavy and deliberate.
Not urging.
Waiting.
I stood.
"System," I whispered. "What happens if I stop acting as a Guardian?"
The response came instantly.
[Query accepted.]
[Result:]
[Forgotten magic will continue to surface unchecked.]
[Probability of large-scale erasure events: Increasing.]
I clenched my jaw.
"And if I keep interfering?"
A pause—longer this time.
[Result:]
[Memory erosion rate will increase.]
[Estimated outcome: Identity loss.]
I laughed softly.
"So either the world forgets itself… or I do."
The monument cast a long shadow across the plaza as clouds drifted overhead.
I thought of Lyra, reckless but alive because I'd stepped in.
I thought of the hollow-eyed man, still walking despite whatever he'd lost.
And I thought of my name—gone, but not the things it stood for.
I lifted my head.
"Then I choose," I said.
I placed a hand over my chest, over the fractured rune bound to my core.
"I'll keep interfering."
The Authority Fragment flared warmly—not in approval, but in acknowledgment.
[Guardian's Choice confirmed.]
[Role status: Active.]
[Consequence acceptance registered.]
A strange calm settled over me.
Fear didn't vanish—but it sharpened into resolve.
I turned away from the monument and walked back toward the heart of the city, toward noise, danger, and secrets buried beneath everyday life.
I would act from the shadows.
Seal what must be sealed.
Redirect what couldn't be destroyed.
Erase only when there was no other choice.
And when the price came due—
I would pay it with open eyes.
Because even if I forgot my name…
I would not forget why I stood here.
Somewhere, deep beneath the city, a seal weakened.
Somewhere else, another Guardian felt the shift.
And the world took its first step toward remembering what it had tried so hard to forget.