Echoes of the Lost

Leon's world came apart.

He had no idea how long he had been falling. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time had lost all meaning the moment the ground beneath him disappeared, leaving him weightless in a sea of shifting darkness. There was no up or down, no air rushing past his ears—just a crushing silence, pressing against his skull like an invisible force.

And through it all, Lira's scream still echoed.

It wasn't just a sound. It was a rupture, a wound torn through the very fabric of existence. The moment she had opened her mouth, the world had cracked, pulling them all into the abyss.

Then, all at once, the fall ended.

Leon hit the ground hard.

His body slammed into something solid, a violent impact that sent pain lancing through his ribs and up his spine. He gasped, lungs seizing, his fingers curling against the rough surface beneath him. His mind reeled, still spinning from the weightlessness, from the sheer impossibility of what had just happened.

For a moment, he couldn't move. His limbs refused to cooperate, his breath coming in ragged bursts. Everything felt wrong—as if his body had been pulled apart mid-fall and hastily reassembled in the wrong order.

Then, a low groan reached his ears.

Leon's instincts kicked in.

Ignoring the pain, he pushed himself up, turning sharply toward the sound.

Selene was sprawled on the cracked ground a few feet away, one arm wrapped around her ribs, her breathing shallow. She looked dazed but alive.

Leon exhaled hard, tension draining from his shoulders.

"Selene," he rasped, his voice raw.

She coughed, wincing as she sat up. "Yeah… I'm here," she muttered, pressing a hand to her temple. "What the hell just happened?"

Leon had no answer.

Instead, he forced himself onto his feet, his body protesting with every movement. His hands brushed against the ground—it was rough, uneven, warm. That last part made his stomach turn.

Something was pulsing beneath them.

Slowly, his vision adjusted.

And the world around them came into horrifying focus.

The sky was a swirling mass of fractured colors, bleeding into one another like oil on water. Streaks of light twisted unnaturally, flickering in and out of existence. The horizon itself seemed to breathe, stretching and contracting as if the very fabric of reality couldn't hold itself together.

The ground beneath them was no better.

It was cracked, shifting, like an old mosaic barely keeping its pieces in place. Some sections flickered—solid one moment, transparent the next. In the distance, massive structures hovered in midair, buildings that looked familiar yet completely alien, as if stolen from different timelines and stitched together in a crude, broken patchwork.

Leon felt his stomach churn.

"This isn't real," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Selene, still scanning their surroundings, let out a humorless laugh. "Feels real enough." She inhaled, her expression grim. "Leon… I don't think we're anywhere in time anymore."

Leon clenched his jaw. He had suspected as much.

Then, his breath caught.

Not far ahead, standing at the edge of a jagged cliff, was a figure.

Small. Still.

Familiar.

His chest locked.

"Lira."

Selene tensed beside him. "Leon, wait—"

But he was already moving.

His body lurched forward before his mind could stop him, his steps uneven, desperate. The ground beneath him felt unstable, like it could crack open at any second, but he didn't care.

She was right there.

Dark hair drifting in the wind. Small frame barely moving.

Just like he remembered.

"Lira!" His voice cracked.

She didn't turn.

Leon swallowed hard, his chest tightening. "Lira, it's me!"

Still, no response.

His breath came faster. His fingers trembled as he reached out, hovering just above her shoulder.

Something inside him whispered—don't.

Then—she moved.

Slowly, unnaturally, like time itself was resisting the action, Lira turned to face him.

And Leon froze.

She looked exactly the same.

Not older. Not changed by time.

Fifteen. The same as the day she died.

But her eyes.

They weren't right.

Dark. Hollow.

Empty.

A cold wave of dread crawled up Leon's spine.

"Lira…"

She blinked.

And for a single, impossible moment—her expression softened.

"Leon?"

Leon's breath shuddered.

It was her voice.

The way she used to say his name.

It was real.

"Lira—" He took a step forward.

Her face twisted.

The warmth vanished. Her features contorted, warping into something unnatural. Cracks spread across her skin, deep and jagged, like shattered porcelain struggling to hold itself together.

Then she screamed.

The sound wasn't human.

It was jagged, layered, a thousand voices crashing into each other, distorted and wrong.

The world ruptured.

A pulse of raw temporal energy exploded outward, knocking Leon off his feet.

The ground beneath them shattered.

Glowing veins of instability raced through the terrain, splitting it apart piece by piece.

"Lira!" His scream was lost in the chaos.

Selene grabbed him, her grip iron-tight as she yanked him back.

"Leon, we have to go!" Her voice was sharp, desperate.

Leon struggled against her hold.

He had just seen her—she had looked at him, spoken his name—

And then she had shattered.

Selene's grip tightened painfully. "Leon, MOVE!"

Something shifted in the distance.

Leon barely had time to turn before a new presence emerged.

Dark. Shifting. Watching.

Not human.

Not alive.

But aware.

Leon's pulse stalled.

Selene's grip on his wrist turned to steel.

"Run."

Leon ran.

The ground collapsed behind them, devoured by the unraveling world.

And somewhere—deep in the distance—something followed.