Li Ming's world was small, a patchwork of cobblestone alleys and crooked rooftops in the heart of Fei Long Village. The morning sun spilled across the square, painting the market stalls in golden hues. Merchants called out their wares, children darted between carts, and the aroma of freshly steamed buns filled the air.

For Li Ming, it was just another day.

He tightened the straps of a worn leather bag slung across his shoulder. Inside were the usual errands: scraps of parchment for the blacksmith, herbs for the apothecary, and a handful of coins he'd earned fixing the village elder's roof last week.

"Oi, Li Ming!" A voice rang out. Wei-Qing, the local tinkerer, leaned out of his shop window, smudged with soot and excitement. "You still owe me a favor, don't forget!"

Li Ming grinned and waved. "Add it to the list!"

The list was long, a running tally of debts he'd accumulated in a life spent scraping by. It didn't bother him much. He liked being useful, even if it meant being everyone's errand boy.

But today felt... different.

The air carried a strange hum, a vibration that seemed to settle deep in his chest. As he crossed the market, he noticed people shivering despite the warm sun, their eyes darting to the horizon. A whisper ran through the crowd.

"Another one... found dead near the river."

"They say the body was drained of life, like a husk."

"Do you think it's connected to those relics? The Echoes?"

Li Ming paused. The rumors of Echoes had always felt distant, like stories from another world. Mystical artifacts capable of granting unimaginable power, but at a cost. They were treasures fought over by great warriors in places far beyond this sleepy village.

Or so he thought.

The hum grew louder as Li Ming approached the riverbank. His errands forgotten, he found himself drawn to the sound, his footsteps quickening.

There, beneath the gnarled roots of an ancient willow, something gleamed—a shard of crystal, faintly pulsing with light.

The moment he touched it, the world fell away.

A torrent of images flashed before his eyes: a battlefield soaked in blood, a warrior's cry echoing across the heavens, and a name—Li Zhang—that resonated in his soul.

He gasped, pulling his hand away, but the shard's glow intensified, wrapping around him like a cocoon. The voices of the marketplace faded, replaced by a single phrase spoken in a language he didn't recognize yet somehow understood.

"You are not yet ready, but time waits for no one."

Li Ming staggered back, clutching his chest. The hum subsided, but the shard remained, nestled in the dirt like it had been waiting for him.

"What... what just happened?"

Before he could make sense of it, a shadow fell over him.

"You shouldn't be here," a deep voice growled.

Li Ming looked up to see a stranger clad in dark robes, his face obscured by a hood. The air around him crackled with energy, a dangerous aura that made Li Ming's skin crawl.

"Hand over the Echo," the stranger demanded.

Li Ming didn't know what an Echo truly was or why it had chosen him. But in that moment, something deep within him stirred—a memory, a reflex.

Without thinking, he stepped into a defensive stance, his fingers curling as energy surged through his veins.

"If you want it," he said, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him, "you'll have to take it."

The stranger smirked. "So be it."

And with that, Li Ming's ordinary life came to an end.