The security guards' boots pounded against the metal floor as they closed in on Kael. Three of them, clad in black tactical armor with the insignia of Neptune-7 Security Division emblazoned on their shoulders. Their energy rifles glowed with lethal blue charge, barrels unwavering as they trained them on his chest.
"Hold position!" the lead guard barked, his face obscured by a reinforced helmet. "Place your hands on your head and kneel!"
Kael's heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. He should comply. He should surrender. One night in a detention cell was better than being shot. But something inside him—something new and alien—rebelled against that thought.
[Echo Core active. Multiple potential outcomes detected.]
The voice in his mind wasn't mechanical anymore. It had texture. Depth. Almost like another person speaking directly into his consciousness.
[Analysis: Three hostiles. Energy weapons set to non-lethal stun. 87.3% probability of containment if compliance is chosen.]
Kael blinked. How did he know that? He hadn't seen the weapon settings. He hadn't calculated probabilities. Yet the information was there, as if he'd always known it.
[Alternative: Echo synchronization available. Subject: Kael Virex. Timeline designation: Gamma-7. Status: deceased 0.47 seconds ago in this reality branch.]
Images flooded his mind—not memories, but possibilities. A version of himself ducking left just as the guards fired. The searing pain of an energy blast across his shoulder. Stumbling backward into the server bank. Falling. Darkness.
"No," Kael whispered, not sure if he was talking to the voice or the guards.
"Quiet!" the lead guard snapped, stepping closer. "Last warning—"
Kael moved.
His body responded before his conscious mind could process the decision. He dropped low, spinning to his right just as the first stun blast sizzled through the air where his chest had been. The movement felt alien yet completely natural, as if his muscles remembered this exact sequence from somewhere else.
[Echo synchronization: 23% complete. Skill transfer: combat evasion.]
Pain lanced through Kael's temples like a white-hot needle. He gasped but didn't stop moving. The second guard fired, and Kael twisted his body with impossible precision, the energy blast grazing his forearm. The smell of burnt fabric filled his nostrils.
"Target is enhanced!" one of the guards shouted into his comm. "Requesting backup in Sector Gamma, Chamber 7!"
Kael's vision blurred at the edges. The voice in his head was shouting warnings he couldn't quite understand. The chamber seemed to tilt and shift around him. Two of the guards were moving to flank him, cutting off his escape routes.
[Critical: Synchronization failure imminent. Psychological rejection detected.]
Kael staggered against a console, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Blood trickled from his nose, dripping onto the metal floor in perfect, crimson droplets. The world had taken on a strange double-vision quality, as if he was seeing both the chamber and some other place simultaneously.
"Stop resisting!" the lead guard ordered, advancing slowly. "Whatever you've done to yourself, it's over. The Corporation doesn't take kindly to trespassers in restricted zones."
Corporation. The word triggered something in Kael's fractured mind. He remembered Mei's nervous expression, the strange symbols on the chip, the way she'd avoided his questions. She'd set him up. But why?
[Memory fragment detected: Mei Lin. Probability of betrayal: 68.2%. Motivation analysis: incomplete.]
A wave of nausea washed over Kael. He doubled over, retching but nothing came up. His fingers dug into the metal grating of the floor as he fought to maintain consciousness.
"Approach with caution," the lead guard instructed his team. "He's glitching hard. Probably jacked some restricted tech."
Kael raised his head, wiping blood from his chin. Through his blurred vision, he saw the guards forming a perfect triangle around him, their weapons steady despite his apparent collapse. Professional. Trained. No amateurs.
Then, through the pain and confusion, a single clear thought emerged: There was a maintenance shaft behind the server bank. An old emergency access point that wouldn't show on current security schematics. It led to a decommissioned coolant system that ran parallel to the main corridors for three levels.
How did he know that?
[Echo synchronization resuming. Memory integration: structural knowledge of Neptune-7, pre-renovation blueprints. Timeline designation: Gamma-7. Status: acquired before subject's death from security forces.]
Another flash—a different Kael, older, with a shaved head and a barcode tattoo on his neck, crawling through narrow metal passages in complete darkness. The memory wasn't just visual; Kael felt the cold metal against his skin, smelled the stale air, heard the distant hum of machinery.
He was going to die if he stayed here.
With a surge of desperate energy, Kael pushed himself backward, knocking over a stack of old data drives that clattered across the floor. In the momentary distraction, he rolled behind the massive server unit.
"Contain him!" the lead guard shouted.
Energy blasts sizzled against the metal casing of the server, sending sparks showering down on Kael. The heat seared his back through his thin uniform. He scrambled on hands and knees toward the rear of the server bank, ignoring the pain screaming through his body.
[Echo synchronization: 42% complete. Warning: neural stress at critical levels.]
His fingers found the nearly invisible seam in the wall—a panel that hadn't been opened in decades. The other Kael's memory guided his hands to the release mechanism hidden beneath three inches of dust. With a grunt of effort, he pulled the lever down.
The panel slid open with a protesting shriek of metal, revealing a narrow shaft barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through.
"He's accessing the old maintenance grid!" one guard yelled. "He'll be trapped in there!"
Kael didn't hesitate. He threw himself into the darkness just as another energy blast seared the edge of the opening. The panel automatically began to close behind him, sealing with a final metallic clang that echoed in the narrow space.
Darkness. Absolute and complete.
Kael collapsed against the wall of the shaft, gasping for breath. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Blood continued to trickle from his nose, and when he touched his forehead, his fingers came away wet.
[Echo synchronization: complete. First integration successful. Warning: psychological adaptation period required.]
"What... what was that?" Kael whispered into the darkness, his voice trembling.
[Explanation: The Echo Core has synchronized with a collapsed timeline variant of yourself. You have absorbed select skills, memories, and experiences from Timeline Gamma-7, where you died approximately 47 seconds ago in this reality branch.]
Kael pressed his palms against his temples, trying to sort through the flood of foreign memories. There was so much—procedures for bypassing security systems, knowledge of Neptune-7's forgotten passages, combat techniques he'd never learned. But beneath the useful information was something darker: fear, desperation, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth as he died in that other timeline.
"Why? Why would I..." Kael struggled to form the question. "Why would I die?"
[Analysis: In Timeline Gamma-7, you attempted to escape security forces without Echo Core assistance. Probability of survival was 3.8%. Cause of death: multiple stun blasts to vital organs, followed by neural shutdown.]
Kael shuddered. He was living because of a version of himself who had died. The concept made his stomach churn. He fumbled in his pockets, finding his small emergency flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.
He needed to move. The guards would find another way into the shaft soon enough.
As he began crawling through the narrow passage, memories from the other Kael surfaced unbidden. This shaft led to a junction point two levels down, where it connected to an abandoned hydroponics maintenance route. From there, he could reach the civilian sectors through a series of service tunnels that weren't monitored by security cameras.
The knowledge was there, as if he'd walked this path a hundred times.
"Mei set me up," Kael muttered, the realization hitting him with fresh anger. "She knew what was in that sector. She knew what the server would do."
[Probability analysis: 91.4% certainty that Mei Lin was aware of Echo Core's presence. Motivation remains unclear.]
Kael's head throbbed with every heartbeat. The pain was different now—not just physical, but something deeper, as if parts of his mind were being rewired. He paused to rest, leaning against the cold metal wall of the shaft.
[System notification: First adaptation period beginning. Sleep required within next 4.3 hours to prevent permanent neural damage.]
"Great," Kael whispered bitterly. "Just what I needed."
He continued crawling, the beam of his flashlight revealing strange symbols etched into the walls of the shaft—symbols that matched those on the chip Mei had given him. Ancient, angular marks that seemed to glow faintly in the darkness.
[Recognition: Temporal markers. Placed by previous Echo Core users. Warning signs and navigation aids.]
Kael traced one of the symbols with his finger. It felt warm to the touch, humming with energy that vibrated up his arm. The Echo Core responded immediately.
[Historical data fragment recovered: This station was built over a research facility destroyed during the First Temporal War. Echo Core technology was banned under the Chronos Accords of 2135.]
"The Chronos Accords..." Kael repeated. He'd heard the term in history class, vague references to a conflict that had nearly destroyed humanity's first attempts at time manipulation. Official records claimed all time technology had been destroyed.
Yet here he was, carrying something forbidden in his very mind.
The shaft began to slope downward, and after what felt like hours of crawling, Kael spotted a junction ahead. Three passages branched off in different directions. According to the other Kael's memories, the left path led to safety. The middle to a dead end filled with toxic coolant leaks. The right to a security checkpoint.
Kael chose left.
The passage widened slightly, allowing him to crouch rather than crawl. His flashlight beam caught something ahead—a figure standing in the shadows.
Kael froze, his heart pounding. Had the guards anticipated his route? Was this a trap?
The figure stepped forward slowly, hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. Not a security guard. A woman in a maintenance uniform similar to his own, though cleaner and better fitted. Her face was partially hidden by shadow, but he could see she was young, perhaps his age, with sharp features and intense eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness.
"I've been waiting for you, Kael Virex," she said, her voice calm despite the circumstances. "I felt the activation. The Echo Core has chosen poorly this time."
Kael kept his distance, ready to retreat back down the shaft. "Who are you?"
"My name is Lysara," she said. "Lysara Kain. And unlike your friend Mei, I don't set up people to die."
The mention of Mei's name made Kael flinch. "What do you know about Mei? About any of this?"
Lysara's expression softened slightly. "More than you, apparently. You look terrible, by the way. First synchronization always hits hard." She stepped closer, studying his face. "You're bleeding. And your eyes—they're flickering with blue light. Classic sign of Core bonding."
Kael wiped blood from his nose again, his fingers coming away stained. "What do you want?"
"To help you survive the next twenty-four hours," Lysara said simply. "Because right now, three separate organizations are hunting you. Neptune-7 Security is the least of your worries."
"Who else?" Kael asked, his voice hoarse.
Lysara's smile was humorless. "The Chronos Division—the secret branch of the Corporation that enforces the time manipulation bans. And something worse. Something that shouldn't exist outside of theory."
"What's that?"
"The Echo Hunters," she whispered. "They're not human anymore. They're... echoes themselves. Failed hosts who were consumed by their cores. They hunt new activations like predators sensing blood in water."
Kael leaned against the wall for support, his vision swimming. The pain in his head was intensifying, and a strange numbness was spreading through his limbs.
"We need to get you somewhere safe," Lysara said, her professional demeanor cracking slightly with concern. "You're crashing hard. Without proper recovery, the Echo Core will reject your mind completely."
"I don't even know if I want this thing in my head," Kael muttered, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. "It showed me... another me. Dying."
"That's how it works," Lysara said, crouching beside him. "The Core learns from every possible future. It shows you the paths that failed so you can choose the one that works. But it comes at a cost."
"What cost?" Kael asked, though he feared the answer.
Lysara's eyes grew distant. "The cost of becoming someone else. Every echo you absorb changes you. Eventually, you might not recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror."
Kael closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he saw flashes of memories that weren't his—other lives, other deaths, other choices. A kaleidoscope of possibilities, each one ending in failure except this one. The one where he was still alive.
"Why me?" he whispered.
"The Core chooses based on genetic compatibility and psychological resilience," Lysara explained. "Your family line has a history with this technology. Your father—"
Kael's head snapped up. "What about my father? He disappeared when I was five."
Lysara's expression closed off instantly. "I shouldn't have mentioned that. Focus on staying conscious. We have maybe an hour before the Hunters triangulate your position."
She helped him to his feet, supporting his weight when his legs threatened to buckle. "There's a safe house three levels down. An old resistance cell from the Corporate Wars. It's shielded against detection."
Kael stumbled as they began moving down the corridor. "Why are you helping me?"
Lysara's grip tightened on his arm. "Because someone helped me when my Echo Core activated. And because the Hunters killed everyone I ever cared about. Revenge is a powerful motivator."
They navigated through a series of forgotten passages, Lysara moving with confidence through the maze of the station's underbelly. Kael noticed she occasionally checked symbols on the walls—similar to the ones he'd seen earlier, but with subtle differences.
"Those markers," he said between gasps of pain. "What do they mean?"
"Warning system," Lysara explained. "Previous Echo users left them. Red means danger ahead. Blue means safe passage. Yellow means... complicated." She paused at a junction where three different colored symbols overlapped. "This one means Hunters were here recently."
Kael's blood ran cold. "How recent?"
Lysara studied the symbols closely. "Within the last six hours. We need to take the long way around."
As they detoured through narrower passages, Kael's condition worsened. His vision blurred in and out, and he began to hear voices—whispers that weren't there. Some sounded like his own, speaking in languages he didn't know. Others were completely alien.
[Warning: Neural degradation at 62%. Psychological fragmentation beginning.]
"The voices," Kael gasped, clutching his head. "They won't stop."
"Hold on," Lysara urged, half-dragging him through a narrow opening. "We're almost there."
Kael's legs gave out completely. He collapsed to his knees, retching violently. When he looked up, his vision had split—he was seeing both the tunnel and another place simultaneously. A white room with glass walls. People in lab coats watching him through the glass. A man who looked like him, but older, with a scar across his throat, smiling sadly before turning away.
"Kael!" Lysara's voice cut through the hallucination. "Focus on my voice. You're not there. You're here. With me."
She knelt beside him, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her touch grounded him slightly, pulling him back from the edge of the abyss.
"Tell me about the real world," she instructed firmly. "Describe exactly what you see right now."
Kael blinked rapidly, trying to focus. "Metal walls. Dust. Your face—I see your face. You have a scar under your left eye."
Lysara nodded approvingly. "Good. Keep going."
"The floor is grating. Cold. There's a leak somewhere—dripping water. Three meters behind you."
"That's it," Lysara said, relief in her voice. "You're coming back."
Kael leaned against her, exhaustion threatening to pull him under. "The other Kael—before I absorbed him—he was running from something worse than security guards. Something that wasn't human."
Lysara's expression hardened. "The Echo Hunters leave a signature. A kind of psychic residue that the Core can detect. Your echo was right to fear them. They don't just kill you—they consume your Core and absorb your echoes. They become stronger with each one they take."
Kael shuddered. "How many are there?"
"No one knows for sure. They move between timelines, hunting new activations. Most people who get a Core never survive their first week." Lysara helped him stand again. "You're lucky I found you when I did."
"Lucky," Kael repeated bitterly. "I have a forbidden time technology in my head, I'm wanted by security, hunted by monsters, and my only friend betrayed me. This doesn't feel lucky."
Lysara actually smiled at that. "You're still alive when most wouldn't be. That's lucky in my book. Now come on—you're heavier than you look."
They continued through the tunnels, Kael growing weaker with each step. The safe house was an unmarked door in a forgotten corridor, disguised as a storage closet. Lysara activated a hidden panel with a complex series of taps, and the door slid open silently.
Inside was a small but well-equipped space—bunk beds, a compact kitchen unit, medical supplies, and walls covered in data pads and maps. The air hummed with the sound of signal jammers and shield generators.
"Home sweet home," Lysara said, lowering Kael onto one of the bunks. "For now, anyway."
She moved efficiently, preparing a sedative while checking his vital signs with a portable scanner. "You need to sleep. The Core needs to integrate properly, or you'll suffer permanent damage."
Kael fought to keep his eyes open. "Will I dream?"
Lysara's expression grew somber. "Yes. You'll dream of all the lives you could have lived. All the ways you could have died. It's part of the process."
"And when I wake up?"
"You'll be different," Lysara admitted. "Stronger in some ways. Broken in others. The Echo Core doesn't just give you skills—it gives you the weight of every failure that led to your success."
Kael's eyes were already closing despite his efforts to stay awake. "Promise me something?"
"Depends on what it is."
"Don't let them take the Core. Even if I... if I'm not myself anymore."
Lysara hesitated, then nodded. "I promise."
As the sedative took effect, Kael's last conscious thought was of Mei's face—the worry in her eyes that he now recognized as guilt. She'd known exactly what would happen. And somewhere, in one of those other timelines, another Kael had paid the price for this knowledge.
Before darkness claimed him completely, he heard the Echo Core's voice one last time:
[First echo fully integrated. New abilities available upon awakening. Warning: Echo signature detected by external source. Proximity: 7.3 kilometers and closing.]
Kael tried to warn Lysara, but the words wouldn't form. His body had already surrendered to the inevitable sleep.
As consciousness faded, he felt something new within him—not just the Echo Core's presence, but a distinct awareness. A personality. An echo that hadn't just been absorbed, but had taken root.
Hello, brother, the voice whispered in his mind, different from the Core's mechanical tone. Let me show you what we can really do.
Then, nothing.
Lysara watched over him through the night, her scanner occasionally beeping with concerning readings. She didn't sleep. She knew what was coming. The Hunters always found their prey eventually.
She checked her weapons, ensuring each one was fully charged. Then she activated a small device that projected a holographic display of Neptune-7's schematics. Red dots were converging on their position from three different directions.
"Come on then," she whispered to the empty room. "Let's see who finds him first."
Outside the shielded room, in the darkness of the orbital station, something ancient and hungry stirred. It had tasted a new Core activation, fresh and powerful. It would have this one. It would have them all.
The Echo Hunters were coming.