The silence was heavier than death itself.
When Adrian opened his eyes, he was no longer standing on the battlefield, nor beneath the violet storm that had once devoured Paris.Instead, he lay on a cold surface that felt like polished glass, endless and weightless.
The world around him was a pale void, tinted by shifting hues of white and faint gold.He sat up slowly, every breath echoing like a whisper through a cathedral made of memory.
So this is it, he thought. The space between worlds.
There was no horizon, no wind, no sound — only the distant shimmer of particles suspended in eternity. It wasn't life, and yet it wasn't death.
Then, the faintest ripple crossed the surface beneath him — and he realized he wasn't alone.
A soft, melodic hum filled the emptiness.From the nothingness ahead, figures began to take form — human silhouettes composed of fractured light. Their bodies shimmered with faint traces of armor, tattered cloaks, and old wounds that would never heal.
The Echoes.
The countless souls he had absorbed to contain the storm.
They circled him silently, each one holding an emotion that bled through the still air — grief, gratitude, anger, regret. It was overwhelming, like being drowned by feelings that weren't his own.
Adrian stood. "Where am I?"
"In the cradle between memory and reality," said a voice — calm, clear, ancient.
He turned.A woman stood there, taller than any mortal, her hair cascading like a river of white flame. She wore the armor of a knight from a forgotten age — one Adrian had seen once in an old archive of the Heroic Academy.
"The First Hero," he murmured.
She inclined her head slightly. "You remember me. Good."
"I thought… I became the seal," he said, his voice low. "I thought that was the end."
"It was the beginning," she replied. "When you took the burden of the Echoes, your soul was rewritten. You now exist beyond the constraints of flesh and time. You are no longer bound to the world — but neither are you free of it."
Adrian looked around at the drifting souls. "So this… this is what I've become a part of."
She stepped closer. "You are their guardian now. Their memory. Their voice."
He closed his eyes, listening.The Echoes whispered — fragments of lives long gone. Some cried for forgiveness, others begged to be remembered, others still raged at the fate that had abandoned them.
"I can hear them all," he said softly. "It's too much."
"It always is," the First Hero said gently. "That's why no one before you could bear it. But you are different, Adrian Valen. You carry both hatred and compassion in equal measure. You are the balance this realm needed."
Adrian turned to her, eyes hard. "You talk like this was all planned."
Her gaze didn't waver. "It was not planned. But it was foreseen."
He frowned. "Foreseen by who?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she lifted her hand — and the void around them began to shift.
The endless glass floor turned transparent, revealing an image below — the real world.
Adrian saw it as if from a god's perspective.The ruins of the Heroic Academy had been reduced to a crater of silver ash, surrounded by collapsed buildings. The storm was gone, but the land still trembled.
He saw Selene, kneeling beside the remains, clutching Lucienne's unconscious body.Her face was streaked with tears and soot, her voice hoarse as she called his name into the wind.
Adrian's chest tightened. "Selene…"
"She cannot hear you," the First Hero said. "To her, you are gone. But she still carries a piece of your essence. That bond may one day bridge the realms."
He pressed a hand against the glass. "She doesn't deserve this."
"Neither did you," the Hero replied softly. "But fate is not mercy. It is balance."
Adrian stared down at the shattered world.People were rebuilding — scavenging through ruins, pulling survivors from debris, tending to the wounded.For a moment, hope glimmered in the smoke.
Then, he saw something that froze his heart.
A dark mist creeping from the edges of the crater — faint, nearly invisible. It slithered across the ruins, coiling into shadows that began to take shape.
The First Hero's tone hardened. "They come."
Adrian looked at her. "Who?"
"The Remnants. The fragments of Echoes that refused to be purified. They were too corrupted, too consumed by their own hatred. They escaped the seal."
He clenched his fists. "And they're in my world."
"They are hunting for anchors," she said. "For bodies to inhabit — vessels strong enough to contain their power."
He stared back down at Selene, realizing the danger."She's near the epicenter…"
"Yes," the Hero said gravely. "And they will be drawn to her — to anyone touched by your essence."
Adrian's pulse quickened. "Then send me back."
She looked at him with pity. "It's not that simple. You are not alive in the way you were. You can influence the physical world only through echoes of your own power. You must learn to shape it, to manifest from the void."
"Then teach me," Adrian said. "If I can't walk among them, I'll protect them from here."
The Hero regarded him for a long moment — then nodded. "Very well. But know this, Adrian Valen: every time you reach into the mortal plane, you will lose a part of yourself. Memory, emotion, identity — they will erode, piece by piece."
He smirked faintly. "I've already lost everything once. I can do it again."
She raised her hand, and the void began to pulse with energy. Symbols — ancient runes of light — appeared around him, spinning like a constellation.
"These are the Laments," she explained. "Echo techniques. They are not spells, but invocations of memory — fragments of the lives within you. Each one carries meaning, and cost."
Adrian reached out, touching one. It burned faintly, resonating with his heartbeat.
He saw flashes of memory — a knight defending a city gate, a healer sacrificing herself to save a friend, a child holding a broken sword with trembling hands.
Their strength flowed into him — raw, emotional, real.
He gasped. "It feels… alive."
The Hero nodded. "It is. They lend you their will. But do not forget — they are not weapons. They are people. When you call upon them, remember their names."
Adrian lowered his hand, breathing heavily. "And if I don't?"
"Then you become what you swore to destroy — a vessel without humanity."
He stood there for a long time, silent, the echoing souls around him watching like a thousand unseen eyes.
Finally, he looked up. "Then let's begin."
The First Hero smiled faintly. "Good. You will need strength — because something else stirs beyond the veil."
Adrian frowned. "Something else?"
Her expression darkened. "A remnant not born of your mistake — but of mine. The oldest Echo, the one who refused even death itself."
A rumble tore through the void. The white horizon cracked, revealing streaks of black and crimson underneath. The souls around them screamed as the air trembled with raw hatred.
Adrian felt it — an ancient presence awakening far below the world, deeper than the Core itself.
The Hero whispered, "He was once known as Aurelian, the Radiant King. The first to bear the Heroic Emblem — and the first to betray it."
Adrian's eyes widened. "You mean—"
"Yes," she said grimly. "The one who created the cycle of heroes and villains. The one who made your suffering possible."
The crack in the sky widened, bleeding shadow and flame.
Adrian clenched his fists, feeling the surge of Echo energy inside him responding like a tidal wave.
"So he's alive," Adrian said. "Then I'll end what you couldn't."
The Hero looked at him, both proud and sorrowful. "You will try. But know this — he is the Echo of Truth itself. To destroy him, you must first confront every lie you've ever told yourself."
The void began to fade, the light dimming. The First Hero's image flickered, fading like mist in the morning.
Her last words lingered in the air as she vanished:
"When the dawn rises again, remember, Adrian Valen — ashes are where new heroes are born."
Adrian stood alone in the shifting light, staring down at the mortal world below — at Selene, at the Remnants, at the fragile hope beginning to flicker again.
He extended his hand.Energy coiled around it — faint, unstable, but growing stronger with every heartbeat.
The first of his Laments.
He whispered a single word:"Requiem."
The air cracked — and for the first time since his death, a spark of Adrian's power reached the world of the living.
Far below, Selene looked up as a streak of violet light tore across the dawn sky — faint, beautiful, and filled with familiar warmth.
Her lips parted in disbelief."…Adrian?"
And somewhere in the void, the Rejected Hero smiled.