Eclipsed Horizon — Chapter 41: "Echo Protocol"
(POV: Cael Drayen)
The infirmary lights dimmed to a twilight pulse. The steady rhythm of machinery hummed in sync with his Pulseband, each flicker a reminder that his body was alive—but his resonance was fractured.
Cael sat upright, staring at his reflection in the sterile glass. The veins of blue light that once pulsed steady beneath his skin now flared erratically—sometimes white, sometimes dark as obsidian. Each fluctuation came with whispers. Not voices. Not quite. Fragments of his own thoughts… except they didn't sound like his.
> "You left me behind."
"No. I came back for you."
"Then why can't you remember what you promised?"
The door slid open. Lyra entered quietly, her coat draped around her shoulders like a cloak of light. Her expression was softer than usual, but her eyes—those silver-ringed irises—shone with concern.
"Still hearing them?" she asked.
He nodded. "They're not… external. I think they're memory echoes."
Lyra placed a data drive on the counter. "Seraphine ran an analysis on your neural map. Your Echo signature's been looping since the Breach event. Whatever merged with you—your own Echo or something else—it's trying to stabilize."
"Stabilize?" Cael muttered. "It feels more like it's arguing with me."
Lyra smiled faintly. "Sounds familiar."
He wanted to laugh, but it came out hollow. "You're not wrong."
Lyra leaned closer, the faint hum of her own resonance syncing with his. The Pulseband on her wrist began to glow, forming the mirrored pattern of his own intertwined rings.
Their resonance link—still unstable, but undeniable.
"I talked to Seraphine," she continued. "She's activating something called Echo Protocol. It's an experimental override—she thinks it might help you realign."
Cael frowned. "Experimental meaning…?"
"Meaning no one's survived it before," she said, too calmly.
Silence filled the room.
Outside, Zephyr's skyline was flickering again—holograms phasing in and out, the city breathing like it had a pulse of its own. The awakening from the Breach had spread deeper than anyone expected.
Cael looked at Lyra. "If this fails—"
"It won't."
"Lyra—"
She placed a hand over his chest, where his Pulseband's light glowed brightest. "If you fall again, I'll pull you back. Just like last time."
The door opened again. Seraphine Aurel entered, her eyes gleaming with unreadable calm. Her presence shifted the air—measured, resonant, almost divine in precision.
"Cael Drayen," she said. "You've crossed the Breach once. Now, to survive your Echo, you'll have to enter it willingly."
Lyra's hand tightened around his.
Seraphine raised a device that looked like a neural key. "Echo Protocol begins at dawn. Try not to lose yourself this time."
And as the light around them dimmed, Cael felt the voices grow louder—layered, fractured versions of himself, whispering a truth he wasn't ready to hear.
> "You can't realign what was never yours to begin with."