*"…what we took?"* Jin repeated, gripping his own blade. *"…I don't know what you're talking about."*
*"You know enough,**"* the man replied, and there was just the slightest glint there in his eyes—almost like *hope*.
"I see…" Jin muttered, realizing something. "You're a memory."
*"…yes."*
But there was no joy in that answer, or bitterness either.
Just a quiet, solemn acceptance.
*"You're what's called an echo."* Jin said quietly, eyes narrowed. *"The echo memory of a world that never was… but almost was."*
The man smiled again—a flicker of understanding between shadows.
*"…or will be,"* he said softly. *"We're alike, Jin. You and I."*
Jin tensed. *"Alike?"*"
*"You think you're the only one who sees the world differently?"* The man asked. *"Who is… different?"*
*"It's not the same,"* Jin said curtly. *"You're an echo. I
*"Perhaps not,"* he acknowledged. *"But even echoes have their uses."*
