Rescue

The alarm hit just after midday.

No one heard it first—it was felt.

The ground gave a short, sharp hum. Then the sound came.

A long, low tone cut through the mist. Followed by three sharp pulses. Then a voice, steady and loud, echoed from somewhere above the trees:

"All Valemont personnel. Emergency convergence protocol. Group at east coast evac points. Repeat—Group at east coast evac points. Island stability compromised. All students, faculty, and staff must report immediately."

Kaela froze mid-step. She turned to Toji, who had already stopped.

They looked at each other.

Then both moved.

Back at camp, the others had heard it too. The healer was already packing gear. Lian was helping roll Sen into a sling. Dain shouted over the camp: "We move in two minutes! Get what you can carry. Leave the rest."

Han appeared first from the north trail, Momo clinging to his hood.

Sera came behind him, wings half-formed, fading as she walked. Her face was pale but steady.

"What's happening?" she asked.

Toji answered without slowing. "The island's shifting. Probably collapse under the sky break. East coast's the rally."

Kaela threw her pack over one shoulder. "Are evac ships finally coming?"

"Maybe," Toji said. "Or just holding ground. Either way, we go now."

There wasn't panic. But no one spoke much either.

The urgency was real. Echo Field didn't give second chances.

As they moved down the trail together, other groups began to appear—three students from another camp, limping, one supporting a teacher with a broken arm. A small squad in uniform. Two staff members from containment security. All headed the same way.

Toward the coast.

Sera glanced over her shoulder once. Toward the trees.

Han noticed.

"Something back there?"

She shook her head.

"Not yet."

.

.

.

The trail narrowed as they headed southeast. Roots tangled across the path. The mist was thinner here, but the air felt sharp—like static pressing behind their eyes.

Kaela walked up front. Sera drifted to her side.

They didn't speak at first.

Then Sera asked, "What's Valemont like? Before this?"

Kaela didn't look over.

"Normal."

Sera waited.

Kaela finally added, "Classes. Duels. Echo drills. Assignments. Stress."

Sera said, "That doesn't sound normal."

"It is. For us."

Sera kicked a loose stone. "Did you like it?"

Kaela thought for a second.

"I didn't hate it."

That was the closest she could give to "yes."

Behind them, Han caught up to Toji. He gestured toward the front with his head.

"You and her ever talk before this field trip?"

Toji didn't answer.

Han smirked. "Right. Just combat partners with unresolved tension. Classic."

Toji gave him a look. "You want to scout the next blind turn alone?"

Han laughed once and dropped back.

Momo peeked out of his collar.

"If we die out here, I want it on record that I had better taste in conversation than either of you."

They hit the drop point by a dead ravine. The path curved under a bridge of twisted stone—part of the old mana-line conduit.

Something shimmered above it.

Kaela stopped. Hand up.

Everyone froze.

The shimmer pulsed—slow, rhythmic. Echo-tether energy. But wrong. Unstable.

Sera stepped beside her. "What is that?"

Toji spoke without looking away. "Collapsed Echo fragment. Probably spilled from a broken tether."

Han circled wide. Drew a glyph in the dirt.

"Bad news," he said. "It's scanning for signatures."

Dain muttered, "Like it's looking for someone?"

Toji's jaw tightened. "No. Like it's choosing."

The shimmer suddenly reached out.

A tendril of light, slow and smooth, pushed toward Kaela.

She stepped back. Her tails flickered once—instinct.

The light changed direction. Moved toward Sera.

Sera's Echo sparked. Steam hissed from her skin.

The light paused. Then receded.

Toji moved fast. "We're not going through. Around. Double time."

No one argued.

They rerouted east through an overgrown slope, half-sliding through gravel and roots. The air behind them pulsed again—but softer this time.

Watching. Waiting.

They reached the shore just after noon.

It wasn't quiet.

Hundreds of people—students, faculty, staff—filled the coastal flat. Tents had been deployed. Emergency platforms floated just offshore. Staff in black armbands managed lists and grouped teams.

Kaela scanned the crowd. Recognized faces. Injuries. Fear.

No evac ships.

Not yet.

Toji went straight to the command tent. Han peeled off to get water. Momo climbed out and darted toward a snack table. Someone shouted. Momo ignored them.

Sera stood still, eyes on the ocean.

Kaela came up beside her.

"They're waiting," she said.

"For what?"

Kaela looked at the horizon. The water shimmered faintly.

"Either for someone to open a way out… or for someone to finish locking this one down."

Sera didn't reply.

But her Echo stirred again.

A low breath. Not hers.

The first crow landed on a tent pole.

Then another.

Then a third—perched on the rope line above the medical canopy, its beak twitching like it was listening to something no one else could hear.

Kaela noticed first.

She elbowed Sera gently and nodded at the birds.

"Those weren't here a minute ago."

Sera turned her head.

More had arrived. At least a dozen now. Black feathers. Bright eyes. Silent.

One of the staff shouted across the field—something about checking the perimeter. Their voice cracked halfway through.

Another tent rope snapped.

A crow flapped upward, circled once, then settled again.

Then the air changed.

People near the water started arguing. No reason. Just raised voices. One student accused another of stealing their gear. A staff member snapped at a healer. Two teachers disagreed about priority evac order—loudly.

Kaela's grip tightened on her belt.

Sera blinked. "Something's wrong."

Han jogged back from the food line. "Why is everyone suddenly pissed off?"

Kaela's Echo twitched without warning. Her tails flickered half-formed.

Toji reappeared from the command tent. He took one look around, then snapped to the Mnemo-Eye: "Scan for psychic interference. Immediate."

It pulsed once.

Then the voice came.

Not loud. But everyone heard it.

"Oh, finally. I was wondering how long it would take for someone to notice the birds."

The sound didn't come from one place. It came from inside their own heads. Layered, echoing, casual.

Something stepped out from the treeline behind the eastern platform.

Barefoot. Pale skin. Long black coat. Black feathers woven into her hair.

Strife.

Her smile was wide, but her eyes weren't smiling at all.

"You brought so many tasty little tensions here. Guilt. Suspicion. Jealousy. Self-hate. Delicious."

Kaela drew her blade. Tails flared to half-length.

Toji raised a hand—but not to attack.

Not yet.

"Don't engage," he said. "She's feeding on it."

Strife twirled once in place, arms open.

"Come on. I'm only here to talk. Maybe lie. Maybe whisper something in your ear until you don't trust your friends anymore."

Murmurs spread through the camp. People backed away—but not far. Some looked toward her. Some toward each other.

Han moved closer to Sera.

She looked tense.

"What are you?" Sera asked aloud.

Strife smiled wider.

"A memory you made up to hate yourself. A question you never answered. A fight you never finished. A little bit of everything. But mostly—"

She lifted one hand.

Blackbirds swarmed the sky. Circling.

"I'm here to watch everything fall apart."

Strife tilted her head toward Kaela first.

"You still think you're the quiet one. The one who observes. The one who controls things. But you're not."

Kaela's jaw tightened. Her tails flickered again. One dragged across the dirt.

"You're just angry that you're in your sisters shadow and you can outgrow that. You think if you stay work hard enough, it won't happen anymore. You're wrong."

Kaela stepped forward.

Sera grabbed her arm.

Kaela shook her off.

Strife turned.

"Oh, don't worry. You'll get your turn too."

She pointed at Sera.

"You're pretending this is new. But your Echo's been watching for years. You just refused to look. And now that it's coming out, you're scared it's not actually yours."

Sera flinched—not much. But her shoulders folded inward.

Han stepped between them.

Strife gave him a look.

"Still hiding behind the jokes?"

Then she looked at Toji.

"And you. The golden child. Valemont's echo of a better version. All logic, no feeling. You think you care. You think you're steady. But you're not. You're tired. And part of you wants to walk away. Let them fall. Just once."

Toji didn't move.

But his grip on the hilt of Phantom Edge changed. A shift of fingers. Barely visible.

Strife grinned.

"Yes. There it is. Let's make it bloom."

She raised a hand.

Blackbirds screamed overhead.

Kaela started forward.

And then—

A sharp crack hit the air.

Like space itself had been struck.

A bolt of red light slammed into the ground between Strife and the students.

The birds scattered.

Strife stepped back, frowning now.

From the other side of the camp, a figure approached. Long coat. Twin glaives strapped to her back. White glyphs floated around her arms like drifting paper.

Instructor Amarin.

A-Class.

No one spoke.

You didn't talk when Amarin showed up. You watched.

She walked slowly, like she had all the time in the world.

"You've spoken enough," she said to Strife.

Strife smiled—but less wide now.

"Oh. You."

Amarin didn't respond.

She rolled one shoulder. The air bent with the movement.

The glyphs ignited.

Then she was gone.

Not teleported.

Just… moved.

One moment she stood ten meters away.

The next—her glaive was swinging across Strife's torso.

The demon screamed—not in pain, but in surprise.

Amarin didn't let her recover.

She moved with clean, exact strikes. Her glaives weren't glowing. Weren't flashy. Just fast. Efficient. Each hit sent out a pressure wave. Tent poles snapped. A bird exploded midair.

Strife backed up fast. She tried to speak again—but Amarin cut across her voice.

"You will not touch my students."

For the first time, Strife looked unsure.

Then she vanished in a burst of feathers.

Gone.

The air stilled.

Amarin stood in the cratered earth where Strife had been.

Kaela, Sera, and Toji didn't move.

Amarin turned to them. Her voice was quiet but hard.

"You see now," she said. "What we keep from getting to you."

The blackbirds were gone.

So was Strife.

But the tension in the air didn't fade. It just flattened. Like the silence after thunder.

Instructor Amarin stood still for a moment. Glaives across her back. Eyes sharp.

Then she turned toward the group.

Her voice was even. Clear. Almost cold.

"She's not gone. Just weakened."

No one spoke.

Amarin looked directly at Kaela.

"You would've engaged her. Alone."

Kaela met her eyes. "She was pushing too far."

"That's the point," Amarin said. "She makes you want to fight. You lose the second you believe it's your choice."

Then she looked at Sera.

"Your Echo is unstable. It's old. Possibly older than you. If it turns on us during a panic, I will act."

Sera tensed but didn't speak.

Han opened his mouth—Amarin shot him a look. He closed it.

Toji stepped forward. "They held their ground."

"Barely," Amarin said. "You're not Echo Knights yet. You're not even through the second tier. Stop thinking your instincts are enough."

She looked at all of them.

"You are not ready yet for what's buried here."

Then she walked away. No more words.

The wind picked up after she left. Light, but cold.

No one moved for a while.

It was night.

Memory-night.

The academy halls were quiet. Blue tiles underfoot. The echo of her own boots too loud.

Kaela stood outside the dueling chamber.

She could hear the crowd inside. Cheers. Applause.

Not for her.

For Raiden.

Inside, her sister moved like wind wrapped in flame. Green hair with streaks of white tied back. Glyph-light dancing on her arms. Every step clean. Every strike elegant.

A perfect form.

Kaela watched from the shadow between stone pillars. She knew the moves. She'd practiced them too. The spacing. The pressure control. The Echo integration.

But it always looked different on Raiden.

Cleaner.

More… important.

Someone clapped beside her.

She turned.

One of the instructors nodded toward the match. "That's what a top-tier echo student looks like."

Kaela didn't answer.

The instructor looked at her badge. "You're her sister, right?"

Kaela nodded.

He smiled, polite but distant. "Must be something—growing up with a shadow like that."

He walked off.

Kaela stayed.

Watched Raiden win.

Again.

⸻

She woke from the memory with her jaw clenched and her fists tight around the blanket.

The birds were gone.

The air was quiet.

But the pressure?

Still there.

Always.

——

It came without warning.

No blaring horn. No spellcast flare.

Just the wind shifting—cold and fast—and the mist along the eastern coast pulling back like a tide.

Then the ship broke through.

Massive. Black-steel hull lined with white mana-thread. Floating just above the waterline. No sails. No noise. Only glyphlight pulsing along the bottom of its hull—steady, controlled.

A command construct-class vessel.

Valemont Evac-Carrier 4.

Kaela stood beside Sera near the camp's perimeter.

They both watched the ship come in.

No one cheered.

Some students stepped closer. Others just stared. One girl started crying quietly. A teacher pulled her close.

The platform at the front of the ship extended out across the bay. Floating like a bridge. Five clean lines of mana carved through the mist to anchor it.

Drones and handlers stepped off first. Staff in black coats. Silent. Precise.

They began scanning for wounds, tether disruptions, unstable Echo readings.

Han muttered, "Took them long enough."

Toji didn't respond.

His eyes were on the trees.

Sera whispered, "It doesn't feel over."

Kaela nodded. "It's not."

⸻

Thirty minutes later, they were loading on.

Sen was carried on a stretcher. Lian stayed close.

Han helped two younger students who could barely stand. Momo rode in his hood, tail sticking out, muttering curses about the waiting queue.

Kaela kept her hand on her pack the whole time. Her Echo didn't stir—but it wasn't resting either.

Sera paused at the top of the loading platform. Looked back once.

"I think Strife is still here," she said.

Kaela didn't argue.

"She'll follow," Kaela said. "If not now, later."

Sera nodded. Then stepped onto the deck.

Kaela followed.

Toji came last.

When the final students were secured, the platform drew back.

The ship lifted—smooth, quiet.

Below, Sanctum Island grew small. But the mist still moved.

Still watching.