The tower loomed in the distance, its surface shimmering faintly with shifting runes. Vero felt its pull, a deep, almost magnetic force urging him forward. Each step he took across the jagged cliffs and swirling mists seemed to bring him closer to something vast and unknowable.
The shard in his hand continued to pulse, its faint glow casting soft light on the path ahead. Though the guardians were gone, their presence lingered in his mind, a reminder of the dangers that lay ahead.
As he walked, the terrain began to change. The sharp cliffs softened into rolling hills, and the mists parted to reveal a landscape bathed in an ethereal light. Strange, alien plants dotted the ground, their leaves glowing faintly as though drawing energy from the air itself.
Vero paused, his gaze drifting to the horizon. The tower was closer now, its sheer size becoming more apparent. It wasn't just tall—it was impossibly massive, its spire piercing the heavens like a needle threading through the fabric of reality.
"That's no ordinary structure," Vero muttered to himself.
"You're right," a voice said behind him.
Vero spun around, his blade instinctively drawn. Standing a few paces away was a figure cloaked in white, their face obscured by a mask that shimmered like liquid metal.
"Who are you?" Vero demanded, his eyes narrowing.
The figure tilted their head, their voice calm and measured. "A guide. Or, perhaps, a distraction. It depends on what you make of me."
Vero didn't lower his blade. "If you're here to stop me, you'll regret it."
The figure chuckled softly. "No, I'm not here to stop you. Quite the opposite, actually. I've been watching you, Vero Zenith. You've survived the guardians and claimed the first shard. That's no small feat."
Vero frowned. "How do you know my name? And what do you mean by 'first shard'?"
The figure gestured toward the tower. "The Echo's fragments are scattered across many fractures. What you hold is but a single piece of the puzzle. The tower you see ahead is another nexus point, a place where reality thins and the Echo's influence grows stronger."
"Another test," Vero said, his tone grim.
"Perhaps," the figure replied. "Or perhaps an opportunity. The Echo is not inherently your enemy, Vero. It's a force—a mirror, reflecting the truths you carry within yourself. If you seek to understand it, you must first understand yourself."
Vero tightened his grip on his blade. "I didn't come here for riddles. If you're not going to help, then get out of my way."
The figure nodded, their masked face unreadable. "Very well. But be warned: the path ahead will not just test your strength. It will test your resolve, your memories, and your very sense of self."
Without another word, the figure turned and disappeared into the mist, their form fading as though they had never been there.
---
The base of the tower was vast, its surface covered in intricate carvings that seemed to shift and writhe when Vero looked at them. A massive doorway stood open, revealing a dark, yawning entrance. The shard in his hand pulsed more strongly now, as though urging him forward.
Taking a deep breath, Vero stepped inside.
The interior of the tower was unlike anything he had ever seen. The walls were lined with glowing panels, each displaying scenes that seemed to flicker between past, present, and future. He saw glimpses of himself—standing in battle, speaking with the silver-haired woman, and staring into a void of endless light.
"What is this place?" Vero whispered, his voice echoing in the vast chamber.
The shard in his hand flared, and the scenes on the panels changed. Now, they showed a younger version of himself—training with a wooden sword, laughing with faces he couldn't recognize, and standing alone in a field as a storm raged overhead.
Memories.
Vero clenched his jaw, his steps faltering. These were pieces of a life he couldn't fully remember, fragments of a past that felt both familiar and alien.
The shard pulsed again, drawing his attention to a staircase spiraling upward. Its steps were made of the same glowing material as the panels, their light illuminating the path ahead.
Steeling himself, Vero began to climb.
---
The higher he climbed, the stronger the pull of the shard became. The air grew heavier, charged with energy that made his skin tingle. The staircase seemed endless, winding upward with no end in sight.
Finally, he reached a landing. Before him stood another door, smaller than the entrance but no less imposing. Its surface was inscribed with runes that glowed faintly, their patterns shifting as he approached.
Vero reached out, the shard in his hand reacting to the door's presence. The runes flared brightly, and the door began to open, its massive panels sliding apart with a low, resonant hum.
Beyond the door was a circular chamber, its walls lined with more glowing panels. At the center of the room floated another shard, larger than the one he carried and pulsing with a deep, rhythmic light.
Vero stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the shard. As he approached, the air seemed to vibrate, the energy in the room building to a crescendo.
"Step carefully," a voice said, echoing through the chamber.
Vero froze, his eyes darting around the room. "Who's there?"
The voice didn't respond. Instead, the shard at the center of the room flared, and a figure began to emerge from its light.
It was humanoid, but its features were indistinct, its form shifting like smoke caught in a breeze. Its eyes glowed with the same eerie brilliance as the shard, and its presence filled the room with an overwhelming sense of power.
"You seek the truth," the figure said, its voice resonant and layered. "But truth is not a gift—it is a burden. Are you prepared to bear it?"
Vero didn't hesitate. "I am."
The figure extended a hand, and the larger shard began to descend, its light growing brighter with each passing second.
"Then let us see if you are worthy," the figure said.
As the shard's light enveloped him, Vero felt the world shift once more.