Whispers in the Fog

The Echo remained motionless, its elongated skull tilting ever so slightly as if studying Ryn from the inside out. The pulsating engravings along its form glowed in rhythmic waves, matching the erratic thrum of the abyss stirring within him. It was not merely watching—it was waiting.

‎The hooded figure took a cautious step back. "Kid, do not engage. It exists outside the laws of this world. Any action could—"

‎Too late.

‎A single twitch from Ryn's fingers sent a ripple through the air, and the Echo reacted in kind. Its body convulsed, limbs twisting as if reality struggled to keep it whole. The mist thickened, wrapping around the clearing like a living shroud. The whispers in Ryn's mind surged, their intensity growing unbearable.

‎" You are like us."

‎The words crashed through his skull, a thousand voices speaking in unison. Ryn gritted his teeth, willing himself to resist the pull. He felt the abyss shift, responding not to his command, but to something far older, far greater than himself.

‎The stranger observed with intrigue, amusement flickering across his face. "It's speaking to you. That's rare. I wonder… can you understand it?"

Ryn inhaled sharply. "It's not speaking in words. It's speaking in intent."

‎" And what does it intend?" the hooded figure asked, voice tight with apprehension.

‎Ryn hesitated. The Echo was not attacking. It was probing, seeking… recognizing.

‎It knew what he had done.

‎A realization struck him then, cold and unrelenting. The abyss was not just inside him—it had marked him. He was no longer merely an engraver wielding an inscription. He was part of it now.

‎The Echo took a step forward, each motion a distortion in reality. Its outstretched claws pulsed with raw energy. The air quivered around it, and the abyss within Ryn answered, its whispers forming coherent words at last.

‎" Unravel the thread."

‎His heart pounded. The abyss was giving him a command. A choice.

‎He could refuse, fight against the current pulling him into something beyond mortal comprehension.

‎Or he could listen.

‎And become something else entirely.

The Echo did not move, yet its presence loomed over him, its elongated skull pulsing with cryptic engravings. Ryn felt his heartbeat slow, his breath coming in measured, deliberate intervals. The abyss inside him did not stir with fear—it pulsed with recognition.

‎The stranger leaned against a withered tree, arms crossed. "I don't suppose you'll tell us what that thing just said?"

‎Ryn exhaled, steadying himself. "It wants something. Something that I don't understand yet."

‎The hooded figure's silver eyes narrowed. "That's dangerous. If it sees you as something familiar, it may seek to pull you further in."

‎The Echo tilted its head again, as if contemplating their words. Then, it took another step forward. The air around it shimmered, distorting like heat rising from stone, yet the temperature plummeted. Frost crept along the edges of Ryn's boots, spiderwebbing outward in intricate, unnatural patterns.

‎A test. A lure. A demand.

‎The abyss within him trembled—not in resistance, but in response.

‎Ryn extended his hand cautiously, his fingers tingling as unseen energy crackled between them. The markings on the Echo's form pulsed in unison with the abyss inside him. It was synchronizing with him, seeking alignment.

‎The hooded figure stiffened. "Kid—don't. You don't know what will happen."

‎The stranger, however, smirked. "Oh, but that's what makes it interesting."

‎Ryn ignored them both. He had already crossed the threshold long ago; there was no turning back now.

‎His fingers brushed against the Echo's outstretched limb.

‎A flood of foreign memories slammed into his mind—

‎A ruined city, its towers crumbling under an unseen force. A sky was torn asunder, abyssal tendrils writhing through the heavens. A figure standing alone amidst the chaos, their body etched with engravings that glowed like dying embers. And in the distance, a door—massive, intricate, sealed shut by chains woven from inscriptions beyond mortal comprehension.

‎The vision shattered. Ryn staggered back, his breath ragged, the echoes of that fragmented world still burning behind his eyes.

‎The Echo did not follow. It simply watched.

‎And then, as if satisfied, it began to dissolve, its form unraveling into thin, curling tendrils of shadow. Within moments, it was gone, leaving only the frost-laced ground as proof it had ever existed.

‎Silence stretched between them.

‎The hooded figure spoke first. "What did you see?"

‎Ryn's jaw clenched. He wasn't sure how to explain it. He had glimpsed something beyond time, beyond space. A past, or perhaps a future—one where the abyss had already consumed all.

‎The stranger chuckled. "That was quite the experience, wasn't it?"

‎Ryn didn't respond. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

‎The Echo was gone, but its presence lingered like an afterimage burned into Ryn's mind. He still felt the chill on his skin, the whisper of the abyss threading through his thoughts. The vision—no, the memory—had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

‎The hooded figure stepped closer, his silver eyes gleaming under the dim glow of the sky. "You saw something, didn't you?"

‎Ryn hesitated. He had glimpsed a world undone, a sky shattered, inscriptions coiling like living things around a sealed door. He had no way of knowing whether it was a warning or an inevitability.

‎"It was... nothing," Ryn finally said, pushing the thoughts aside.

‎The hooded figure let out a dry chuckle. "Nothing, huh? You're a terrible liar. But suit yourself."

‎The stranger, who had remained silent until now, smiled faintly. "You're learning, Ryn. But I wonder… are you beginning to listen?"

‎Ryn's gaze snapped to him. Something was unsettling in the way the stranger spoke—as if he knew something Ryn didn't. He had seen the way the Echo had reacted, the way it had recognized him. Had the stranger known this would happen?

‎Before Ryn could speak, the mist around them thickened. A cold wind stirred the trees, making their branches creak like the bones of a dying beast. The hooded figure tensed.

‎" We're not alone."

‎The three of them moved instinctively, forming a loose triangle. The trees groaned, the mist shifting unnaturally, curling around their feet like searching tendrils. Ryn felt the abyss stir inside him, its whispers growing insistent.

‎Then—footsteps.

‎Soft at first, then deliberate. The sound of boots crushing damp earth, the scrape of metal against leather. A silhouette emerged from the fog, its form draped in a dark cloak, a sigil etched into the chestplate beneath.

‎Ryn's eyes narrowed. The engraving on the sigil pulsed faintly, its lines shifting in ways that defied the natural eye. Whoever this was, they weren't ordinary.

‎The stranger exhaled, his smirk deepening. "Ah. This just got interesting."

‎The figure stepped forward, their voice calm yet weighted with authority. "You carry the mark of the abyss."

‎Ryn felt a chill crawl up his spine.

‎The hooded figure's fingers twitched near his belt, where a concealed blade waited. "And who are you to speak of such things?"

‎The figure ignored the question, their eyes locked onto Ryn. "You have seen the Echo. That means the path ahead has already begun to unfold."

‎Ryn clenched his fists. "And what path is that?"

‎The figure's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "The unraveling of all things."

‎For a moment, silence reigned. The abyss within Ryn surged, reacting to the words like a beast roused from slumber. He gritted his teeth, steadying himself.

‎The hooded figure exhaled. "You speak in riddles. If you have something to say, say it plainly."

‎The stranger, however, tilted his head, intrigued. "No, let them continue. I enjoy a good mystery."

‎The figure turned, their cloak shifting as if the mist itself clung to them. "The abyss does not choose lightly. You have been marked, and that mark will not fade. It will either consume you… or you will become something else entirely."

‎Ryn felt the weight of their words settles deep in his bones. He had suspected as much—but hearing it aloud made it all the more real.

‎" And what if I refuse?" Ryn asked, voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him.

‎The figure let out a quiet laugh, one devoid of humor. "There is no refusal. Only delay."

‎Then, without another word, the mist swallowed them whole, and they were gone.

‎Ryn stood there, the echoes of their voice lingering in his mind. The hooded figure let out a slow breath. "Well. That was unsettling."

‎The stranger simply grinned. "No, that was a promise."

‎Ryn closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the whispers of the abyss settle into a dull hum. He didn't understand what was happening to him yet. But one thing was clear.

‎He was no longer just a bystander in this world.

‎He was marked, and that meant the path ahead would only grow darker.

‎

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