The city of Chronos pulsed faintly against the chaos surrounding it, a flickering light in a world consumed by fractures. For Rheika, the events of the past few days had unraveled her once-ordinary life, leaving her tethered to a truth she barely understood. She was an Echo—a person capable of slipping between fractured moments of time. The weight of this revelation pressed heavily on her, yet she couldn't deny the pull of something larger.
Rheika stood at the edge of the Rift, the swirling abyss of fragmented time that bordered Chronos. Here, the walls of reality blurred, the air charged with an unnatural energy. She had avoided this place her entire life, heeding the warnings of the Time Keepers. The Rift was dangerous, they said, a force that consumed anything that wandered too close.
Now, it fascinated her.
Kai's voice interrupted her thoughts. "The Rift doesn't just pull things in," he said, standing beside her. "Sometimes, it spits them back out. Things that don't belong. Moments that should never have existed."
Rheika glanced at him, noting the tension in his posture. "How do you deal with it?" she asked.
"You don't," Kai replied, his expression grim. "You just learn to move through it without losing yourself."
Before Rheika could respond, the Rift shuddered violently, its edges flaring with light. A deep, guttural sound echoed from within, a low hum that resonated in her chest.
"What was that?" she asked, taking an instinctive step back.
Kai's jaw tightened. "The Erasure."
Back in the hidden chambers of the Echos, Kai gathered the group to explain what Rheika had just witnessed. Around them, the room buzzed with a nervous energy, the other Echos murmuring among themselves.
"The Erasure is growing," Kai said, pacing in front of a crude map of the Rift. Red lines spread outward from its center like cracks in glass, converging on Chronos. "It's no longer just taking pieces of the past. Entire events, entire moments are disappearing."
Rheika frowned. "What do you mean by 'moments'?"
Kai met her gaze, his expression grave. "Think of a memory—a fragment of time tied to a specific place and person. Now imagine that memory erased, not just from your mind, but from the timeline itself. No one remembers it. No one even knows it was supposed to exist."
The scarred woman, whom Rheika had learned was named Lyra, crossed her arms and spoke up. "The Erasure isn't random. It targets moments that destabilize the flow of time. The Keepers think they're containing it, but they're just delaying the inevitable."
Rheika shivered at the thought. "And you think it's connected to me? To the Echos?"
"We don't know," Kai admitted. "But your abilities make you more attuned to the fractures. If the Erasure is growing, you might be the key to understanding why."
Lyra snorted. "Or the reason it's growing in the first place."
The accusation stung, but Rheika couldn't dismiss it entirely. She thought of the visions she'd seen—of herself, older and filled with sorrow, standing on the edge of destruction. What if Lyra was right? What if her presence was accelerating the collapse of time?
That night, Rheika couldn't sleep. The weight of her new reality kept her awake, her mind racing with questions. Unable to stay still, she wandered the streets of Chronos, the city's uneven pulse a constant reminder of its fragility.
Her feet carried her to a quiet plaza near the center of the city. Here, an ancient sundial stood as a relic of a time when Chronos was whole. Its shadow didn't move naturally but instead shifted erratically, jumping between positions that defied logic.
As Rheika stared at it, a familiar sensation washed over her—the pull of time slipping. The plaza around her flickered, its edges blurring like a reflection on disturbed water.
In a heartbeat, she was somewhere else.
The plaza was the same, yet different. The sundial was pristine, its edges sharp and unweathered. The air was warm, filled with the sounds of bustling activity. People moved through the square, their clothing a mix of styles from different centuries, yet none of them seemed out of place.
At the center of the crowd stood a figure in silver robes—a Time Keeper, their presence commanding. They were addressing the gathered crowd, their voice carrying with unnatural clarity.
"Chronos is the last stronghold against chaos," the Time Keeper declared. "But even here, we are not immune. The Rift grows, and with it, the threat of collapse. We must remain vigilant."
Rheika watched in awe, realizing she was witnessing a moment from Chronos' past. This was a time before the fractures had consumed the world, before the city had become a patchwork of eras.
The scene shimmered again, the edges folding in on themselves. Rheika braced herself for the disorienting pull, but instead of returning to the present, she found herself in darkness.
The darkness was suffocating, yet Rheika could feel the weight of something massive pressing against her senses. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against nothingness.
And then she saw it—a void, vast and consuming, stretching endlessly in every direction. Within it, fragments of light flickered like dying stars, each one a moment being swallowed. She tried to focus, but the void seemed alive, shifting and twisting as if aware of her presence.
A voice echoed in her mind, low and distant. "You do not belong here."
Rheika gasped, the sound ripped from her throat as the void seemed to press closer. She could feel its pull, like a tide dragging her into its depths. Desperate, she focused on the currents of time Kai had taught her to sense.
The flow was chaotic, fractured, but she found an anchor—a single thread of light cutting through the void. She reached for it, and the darkness shattered.
When she opened her eyes, she was back in the plaza. The sundial was broken, its shadow frozen. Rheika collapsed to her knees, gasping for air.
Kai appeared moments later, his face etched with worry. "What happened?" he asked, pulling her to her feet.
"I saw it," Rheika whispered. "The Erasure. It's not just a force—it's alive."
Kai's expression darkened. "Then we have less time than we thought."
Back in the Echos' chamber, Rheika recounted what she had seen. The others listened in silence, their faces a mix of fear and determination.
"The Erasure isn't just consuming moments," Rheika said. "It's targeting them. I think it knows what it's doing."
Lyra leaned forward, her scarred face set in a grim line. "If that's true, then we're already losing. The Erasure isn't just chaos—it's strategy."
Kai placed a hand on Rheika's shoulder. "We'll figure this out. You're stronger than you think."
But Rheika wasn't sure. The void's voice still echoed in her mind, its warning clear: You do not belong here.
As the Echos planned their next move, Rheika stared at the map of Chronos, the red lines creeping ever closer to the city's heart. She couldn't shake the feeling that her connection to the Erasure was deeper than anyone realized.
And if she was the key to stopping it, she might also be the reason it existed in the first place.