Echoes of the Fallen

Raiyan's footsteps echoed against the cracked stone as he followed Aelira through the ruins. The air was thick with dust and something heavier—the weight of a forgotten past.

The buildings that still stood were broken husks, their once-grand walls scarred by battle. Faded banners fluttered in the wind, their symbols long eroded. The bones of the past lay scattered across the streets, untouched by time.

And yet… something about this place felt wrong.

Why does it feel familiar?

He had never been here before. And yet, every shadow, every broken street, every ruined monument whispered to him in a voice he couldn't quite hear.

The feeling made his skin crawl.

> "You haven't asked the question."

Aelira's voice cut through his thoughts. She hadn't looked back, her stride smooth, confident.

> "What question?" Raiyan muttered.

She glanced over her shoulder, her silver eyes catching the faint glow of his sword.

> "Why does everyone here know your name?"

Raiyan stiffened. That question had been clawing at him since the Hollow Sun warrior spoke it.

Why did they expect him?

Aelira continued, her voice calm but sharp.

> "The name Raiyan does not belong to a single man. It is a name written into the history of this land, spoken in fear, in reverence, in hatred."

His breath caught.

> "That's… impossible."

He wasn't anyone. He was just a weak, half-Japanese boy from Osaka who had been killed trying to play hero.

What history?

What fear?

Aelira finally stopped walking. She turned, staring at him, studying him.

> "Tell me, Raiyan."

> "When you grasped that sword, did it feel foreign in your hands?"

The question struck him like a blade.

Because he knew the answer.

> No.

The sword had felt right. It had moved with him like an extension of his body, responding to his grip, his intent, his emotions.

It was as if his hands remembered something his mind did not.

He exhaled slowly.

> "What are you saying?"

Aelira stepped closer.

> "I am saying that this city fell long ago."

She gestured at the ruins around them.

> "And the one who led the charge against it… was a man named Raiyan."

---

Raiyan felt like the ground beneath him had disappeared.

His pulse pounded in his ears.

> "That's insane. That can't be true. I don't—"

He stopped himself.

Because a part of him knew she wasn't lying.

The strange familiarity. The whispers in the dark. The way his body remembered the sword's weight.

It wasn't just a coincidence.

Aelira turned, walking toward what had once been a great plaza. The stone was shattered, but in its center, something remained.

A monument.

Half-buried in rubble, broken and forgotten.

Raiyan stepped forward, his hands trembling.

When he saw what it was, his breath caught in his throat.

It was a statue.

Or rather, what remained of one.

The stone figure was shattered beyond recognition, its features eroded, its form ruined by centuries of decay.

But one thing was unmistakable.

The figure held a sword.

And that sword… was the exact same one in Raiyan's hands.

His stomach twisted.

> "This city…" He swallowed hard. "Who destroyed it?"

Aelira exhaled.

> "The Hollow Sun."

> "And the one who led them… was Raiyan."

---

> "No… That's—"

Raiyan stepped back, heart hammering in his chest.

Was she saying he was that Raiyan?

> "You think this is reincarnation?" Aelira mused. "Perhaps. Or perhaps something else entirely."

> "But what matters is this."

She turned to him fully, shadows curling around her fingertips.

> "You are walking the same path."

Raiyan gritted his teeth.

> "I don't remember any of this."

> "You don't have to."

Aelira's expression was unreadable.

> "Because the past does not care if you remember."

She gestured to the ruins around them.

> "It only cares if you repeat it."

The words sent a chill down Raiyan's spine.

Because deep in his heart, he knew—

This was just the beginning.

And whatever truth lay buried here…

It would not stay buried for long.

---

To Be Continued…