The air outside Veridion was colder than Vero expected. The smooth, polished streets of the city gave way to rough, uneven terrain as he stepped past the towering gates. Beyond the city's boundaries, the world stretched into an expanse of shadows and forgotten ruins. Few ventured this far—not because of physical danger, but because of the unknown. Veridion had been a self-contained haven for centuries, and the lands outside it were considered unnecessary, a relic of a bygone age.
The gates hummed softly as they closed behind him, sealing the city from the wilderness. Vero turned back once, his gaze lingering on the towering skyline of Veridion. The city's lights glowed faintly against the horizon, a reminder of the life he was leaving behind. Ahead of him lay uncertainty, but his resolve held firm. If the Echo was spreading, he needed to find answers—and Iris Aeon was the only lead he had.
The road stretched before him, winding through dense forests and jagged cliffs. The bioluminescent flora that grew in this region bathed the landscape in an eerie green light, casting strange, shifting shadows across the path. Vero adjusted the straps of his pack, feeling the weight of the supplies he had hastily gathered.
He walked for hours, the silence broken only by the crunch of his boots against the gravel. Yet, as the night deepened, he began to feel it—a presence. It was subtle at first, a faint prickle at the back of his neck. But as he pressed on, it grew stronger, an unshakable sense that he was being watched.
Vero paused, scanning his surroundings. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches entwined like skeletal fingers. The shadows danced and shifted, but there was nothing there—nothing he could see, at least.
"You're imagining things," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. But the unease lingered.
---
The First Rift
It wasn't long before he came across the first sign of something unusual. The path ahead seemed to shimmer, as though heat waves were rising from the ground. Vero stopped, narrowing his eyes. The air around the shimmer was distorted, bending light in strange ways. He stepped closer, cautiously reaching out with one hand.
As his fingers brushed the edge of the distortion, a jolt shot through his body. He staggered back, his vision blurring. For a moment, the world around him seemed to shift—trees melting into towering spires, the sky darkening to a deep, starless void. He saw flashes of a world that wasn't his, a city bathed in silver light, with beings that looked human but weren't. And then, just as quickly as it began, the vision was gone.
Vero fell to his knees, gasping for breath. His head throbbed, and his heart pounded in his chest. "What was that?" he whispered, his voice trembling. He had read about anomalies in the data streams, but this was different. This wasn't a memory fragment—this was something else entirely.
He looked up at the shimmer again, his mind racing. Could this be connected to the Echo? Was this one of the fractures Arin had mentioned? Whatever it was, it was growing more unstable. The distortion pulsed faintly, emitting a low hum that seemed to vibrate in his bones.
"I can't turn back now," he told himself, rising to his feet. The distortion was a sign—of what, he didn't yet know, but it confirmed that the Echo was real. And it was spreading.
---
The Stranger
As Vero pressed on, the forest began to thin, giving way to open plains. The bioluminescent glow faded, replaced by the pale light of the twin moons overhead. He was alone now—or so he thought.
A rustling sound caught his attention. He froze, his hand instinctively moving to the small blade strapped to his side. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. His eyes scanned the darkness, searching for the source of the noise.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, a figure stepped out of the shadows. It was a man, cloaked in dark, tattered robes that billowed slightly in the breeze. His face was obscured by a hood, but his presence was unmistakably human—or at least, it appeared that way.
"Traveling alone, are we?" the man said, his voice low and gravelly. He took a step closer, and Vero tightened his grip on the blade.
"Who are you?" Vero demanded, his eyes narrowing. "What do you want?"
The man chuckled softly, a sound that sent a chill down Vero's spine. "Questions, always questions," he said. "But perhaps I should be the one asking. What brings someone like you so far from the safety of the city?"
Vero hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he should reveal. The Echo, the anomalies, his search for Iris—none of it seemed like information he should share with a stranger.
"That's none of your concern," Vero said firmly. "Now move aside."
The man tilted his head, as if studying him. "Brave words for someone standing on the edge of the unknown," he said. "But be careful, traveler. The path you're on is treacherous. And not all who walk it find their way back."
Before Vero could respond, the man turned and disappeared into the shadows, as silently as he had appeared. Vero stood frozen for a moment, his heart racing. Who was that man? And how had he known about the dangers ahead?
Shaking off his unease, Vero continued down the path. The encounter had left him shaken, but it also fueled his determination. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it head-on. He had no other choice.
---
The Watcher
Unbeknownst to Vero, a figure stood in the distance, hidden among the trees. They watched him intently, their presence masked by the darkness. The air around them shimmered faintly, like the distortion Vero had encountered earlier.
"Interesting," the figure murmured, their voice barely audible. "He's more resilient than I expected."
The figure turned away, vanishing into the shadows as quickly as they had appeared. Whatever their intentions, one thing was clear—they were watching Vero. And they wouldn't be the last.