Chapter 119 The Battle Against the Echo
The sky cracked open like a wound.
Violet lightning forked across the horizon, and the eastern border of Aeloria—already unstable—shimmered, then tore. From the rift came the Echo: a storm of Void-born constructs, twisted memories, and something worse.
Something that sounded like us. Something that even our worst nightmares couldn’t conjure up.
We stood on the cliffs above the breach, weapons drawn, spells humming, hearts pounding.
“Well,” Thessa said, cracking her knuckles. “Looks like Milo’s emotional baggage just got a sequel.”
Kael drew both swords. “Void 2: Echo Boogaloo.”
Zeke grinned. “I’ve been waiting for this. I brought snacks.”
“You brought snacks?” Yuel asked, incredulous.
“Battle snacks,” Zeke said, pulling a pouch of candied fireberries from his belt. “For morale. You can’t fight on an empty stomach so of course I came prepared. What did you bring?”
Yuel opens his satchel and shows it full of nuts, berries and muffins.
“Aww, I forgot to grab muffins, can I have one” Zeke asks as she reaches over to Yuels’s bag.
Yuel quickly snatches it away out of Zeke’s reach.
Lira rolled her eyes. “If we die because you were chewing too loud, I’m haunting you.”
Ellira finished sketching a containment rune in the dirt. “Focus. The Echo is feeding off instability. If we don’t hold the line, it’ll spread to the capital.”
Aine stood beside Milo, her hand hovering near his shoulder. “We fight. But we don’t lose ourselves.”
Milo didn’t respond.
He just stared at the rift, eyes wide, lips parted.
And then he smiled.
His smile turned to laughter that rang out across the battlefield.
The first wave hit like a scream.
Echo-constructs surged from the rift—twisted versions of us, made of shadow and memory. One looked like Thessa, but her flames were black and cold. Another was Kael, but his swords dripped with blood that never hit the ground.
Thessa hurled a fireball. “I am so done fighting metaphorical versions of myself.”
Her Echo twin caught the fireball and swallowed it.
“Oh, that’s new,” she muttered.
Kael charged his doppelgänger. “If I kill myself, does that count as self-improvement?”
“Only if you do it with flair,” Lira called, launching a barrage of flame sigils at her own Echo, which hissed and split into three.
Zeke swung his staff like a club. “Mine’s just standing there judging me.”
“Maybe it’s accurate,” Yuel said, stabbing his own Echo in the leg. “Mine keeps whispering my insecurities. It’s like fighting a therapist.”
Ellira’s runes flared. “They’re not just constructs. They’re reflections. They know us.”
Aine’s voice was calm. “Then show them who we are.”
I fought my Echo in silence.
She looked like me—but colder. Sharper. Her eyes were empty, her smile cruel.
“You’ll never save him,” she whispered.
“I already have,” I said, slashing through her with a blade of flame.
She reformed instantly.
“Then why is he smiling?”
I turned.
And saw Milo.
Laughing.
Laughing as he fought.
Laughing as he killed.
Laughing at the chaos.
He moved through the battlefield like a storm.
Void magic crackled around him, elegant and terrifying. He tore through the Echoes with ease—no hesitation, no mercy. His eyes glowed, and his smile widened with every strike.
“Milo!” I shouted.
He didn’t hear me.
Or maybe he did.
And didn’t care.
He was enjoying the battle, he was enjoying hurting.
This wasn’t Milo.
Or.
Was it?
Thessa noticed too. “Uh, is anyone else seeing the whole ‘Milo’s enjoying this’ thing?”
Kael grunted, parrying a blow. “Yeah. It’s… unsettling.”
Zeke ducked a blast of shadow. “I mean, I get it. It’s cathartic. But also? Terrifying.”
Yuel frowned. “He’s not fighting to protect us. He’s fighting to win.”
Lira cursed. “He’s feeding off the Echo.”
Aine’s expression didn’t change, but her voice dropped. “He’s slipping again.”
I ran to him.
Dodging Echoes, leaping over broken ground, ignoring the pain in my chest.
“Milo!” I shouted again.
He turned.
His smile faltered.
“Mo,” he said, voice distant. “You’re here.”
“I’ve always been here,” I said. “But where are you?”
He blinked.
And for a moment, the glow in his eyes dimmed.
Then an Echo lunged at me.
Milo reacted instantly—too fast, too violently. He obliterated it with a wave of Void energy that knocked me off my feet.
I hit the ground hard.
He didn’t come to help me up.
He just stood there.
Watching.
Thessa reached me first. “You okay?”
“Physically? Sure,” I said, wincing. “Emotionally? I think I just got ghosted mid-battle.”
Kael helped me up. “He’s not gone. Not yet.”
Lira joined us, blood on her cheek. “But he’s close.”
Zeke tossed me a fireberry. “Sugar helps with heartbreak.”
Yuel rolled his eyes. “You’re not helping.”
Ellira’s runes pulsed. “The rift is widening. We need to end this.”
Aine stepped forward, her light flaring. “Then we go to the source.”
We pushed toward the rift.
The Echoes grew stronger, more desperate. They screamed our names, our fears, ourfailures.
Thessa’s Echo whispered, “You killed your mentor.”
Kael’s said, “You’ll never be Talon.”
Lira’s hissed, “You’re just a weapon.”
Zeke’s muttered, “You’re a joke.”
Yuel’s said nothing.
Just stared.
Ellira’s whispered, “You’ll never fix it.”
Mine?
Mine said, “He doesn’t love you anymore. You have lost your only family.”
I stabbed her through the heart.
And kept walking.
We reached the rift.
It pulsed like a heartbeat.
Milo stood at its edge, arms outstretched, Void swirling around him.
“I can end it,” he said.
“End what?” I asked.
“Everything,” he said. “The pain. The fear. The noise.”
Aine stepped beside me. “That’s not peace, Milo. That’s erasure.”
He looked at her.
Then at me.
“I’m tired of being broken.”
“You’re not broken,” I said. “You’re healing.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m becoming. Nothing is going to fix this. More to the point, I don’t want to fix this. I like it. I like the power.”
And then he stepped into the rift.
The Echo screamed.
I screamed.
The ground split.
My heart cracked.
The sky shattered.
My tears fell.
Milo jumped.
And we followed him in.