The central chamber felt colder than usual, the weight of Arin's words still hanging in the air. Vero stood still, trying to make sense of the situation. The Vaults, the memories, the strange vision of the woman with silver hair—it all felt like a distant dream, something that couldn't possibly be real. But deep within him, a gnawing suspicion festered.
"Are you sure about this?" Vero asked, his voice quieter than he intended. He glanced at Arin, whose eyes were locked on a flickering display panel.
Arin didn't immediately respond. Instead, he gestured for Vero to approach. Vero moved closer, his heart beating faster with each step. The display flickered again, showing an array of memory fragments, all seemingly perfect at first glance. But something was different about these memories—they shimmered, as if they were barely holding onto their shape, like reflections on a broken surface.
"Look at this," Arin said, his voice low but urgent.
Vero leaned in, scanning the data. The images on the screen were unfamiliar, faces he didn't recognize, places he had never seen. The memories were fragmented, pieced together in ways that defied explanation. One image caught his eye—a scene of Veridion, the city he knew so well, but the skyline was wrong. Buildings he recognized were missing, replaced with towering structures that seemed almost... alien.
"This isn't possible," Vero muttered. "These memories—they're not from our timeline."
Arin nodded gravely. "That's what I feared. These memories aren't from Veridion—or from any world we know. They're slipping through the cracks, merging with our reality."
Vero felt a chill run down his spine. "The Echo," he whispered, recalling the term from his conversation with Viren. The name had surfaced briefly in the reports, but it had always been dismissed as a myth, an old legend.
Arin turned to face him. "It's not a myth. Something is causing these fractures in the fabric of time. And I think it's getting worse. These memories—these 'echoes'—are bleeding through, affecting everything they touch."
Vero's mind raced. The anomalies in the Vaults, the memories he had encountered, the vision of the woman—it all pointed to something larger than he could comprehend. But what? And why was this happening now, when everything in Veridion had seemed so stable?
"You said it was getting worse," Vero said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "What does that mean?"
Arin's eyes narrowed, a hint of fear creeping into his expression. "It means that the Echo is spreading. And if we don't figure out what's causing it, we could lose everything. Our memories, our world... everything could unravel."
A heavy silence fell between them, the weight of the revelation settling in. Vero had always trusted the systems of Veridion—trusted that the memories they preserved were as stable as the city itself. But now, in the wake of Arin's words, it was clear that stability was an illusion.
Vero took a deep breath. "So, what do we do now?"
Arin met his gaze. "We need to find the source. The Echo doesn't just affect memories—it's affecting time itself. And if we don't stop it, we could be facing the collapse of everything we know."
Vero's thoughts flashed to the woman in the memory. Was she somehow connected to this? He couldn't shake the feeling that she was more than just a fleeting vision—that she had been trying to tell him something. The thought consumed him, and he knew, without a doubt, that he had to find her.
"How do we even begin to find this source?" Vero asked, his voice steadying with newfound determination.
Arin paused, then typed a few commands into the console. "There's one person who might know more about this. Her name is Iris Aeon. She's a scholar—a recluse, really. But she has knowledge of the Echo, and if anyone can help us understand what's happening, it's her."
Vero's eyes narrowed. "Where can we find her?"
Arin hesitated, then spoke quietly. "She lives outside the city, near the boundary of Veridion. But it won't be easy to get to her. The road to her home is dangerous—unpredictable. If we go, we may not return the same."
Vero didn't flinch. The weight of his discovery was enough to silence any hesitation. He had no choice. The strange visions, the fractured memories—these weren't just random glitches. Something was happening to him, and he needed answers.
"We'll go," Vero said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension in the room. "We leave at once."
---
Later That Night:
Vero packed his belongings quickly, the weight of his decision settling in. As he made his way through the narrow corridors of the Vaults, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him. The air felt different now—thicker, heavier, as though the very walls of Veridion were holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.
He emerged into the open streets of Veridion, the city illuminated by glowing, floating lanterns. The hum of energy from the city's power grid buzzed in the background, a constant reminder of the world he had always known. But tonight, the city felt distant, unfamiliar.
Vero's eyes scanned the skyline, the jagged edges of the towering buildings casting long shadows across the streets. It was all so pristine—so perfect. Yet beneath the surface, something was beginning to fray. The memories were slipping, the fabric of time itself unraveling.
His thoughts drifted to Iris Aeon, the mysterious scholar who might hold the key to everything. She had lived in isolation for years, shunning the advances of technology and the bustling life of Veridion. If anyone knew how to stop the Echo, it was her. But why had she chosen to hide herself away?
As Vero made his way toward the edge of the city, his wristband beeped, signaling an incoming message. It was from Arin.
Stay alert, Vero. The road ahead isn't safe. And don't trust everything you see.
Vero's eyes flicked toward the distant horizon, where the boundary of Veridion loomed. A feeling of unease crept up his spine, but he pushed it aside. He had no time for doubts.
He had a destination now. And the mysteries waiting for him were only just beginning