Elias stood at the threshold of the forsaken ruins, his breath shallow as the weight of unseen eyes pressed upon him. The remnants of a lost civilization loomed around him—crumbling pillars, faded inscriptions, and an eerie silence that felt almost alive. The Dreamscape had led him here, but for what purpose? His every step echoed in the desolate expanse, stirring up dust that shimmered unnaturally in the dim light.
A whisper slithered through the air, curling around his thoughts like a serpent. "You seek the truth, but do you truly wish to know it?"
He spun, his pulse quickening. A shadow moved between the ruins, indistinct yet familiar. It was not the Guardian of Paradoxes, nor was it one of the countless figments of his fractured memories. This presence was different—older, heavier, and filled with something Elias could not yet name.
"Show yourself!" His voice rang with determination, though doubt lurked beneath it.
The shadow twisted, coalescing into a form that defied logic. It was both there and not, flickering like a mirage in the shifting dream. "You have come far, but you have not seen the whole of it. What you seek is buried beneath the echoes of the forsaken."
Elias took a cautious step forward. "What are you? Another illusion? Another trick of this endless nightmare?"
A pause. Then, the shadow laughed—a hollow, aching sound that sent chills down his spine. "I am the truth you refuse to accept. I am the cost of your defiance."
A sudden force gripped Elias's mind, dragging him into a flood of visions. He saw the past unfold in jagged, fragmented pieces. The fall of the Dreamscape, the choices that had led him here, the ones he had failed. And at the center of it all—Lyra. Her outstretched hand, reaching for him through the rift of oblivion. He had abandoned her once. Could he afford to do so again?
Pain lanced through his skull as the visions shattered. He stumbled back, gasping for air. The shadow had faded, but its words lingered.
Elias clenched his fists. He had spent too long running from the past. If he was to break the cycle, he needed to face it—no matter the cost.
The ruins trembled as if acknowledging his resolve. The path ahead remained uncertain, but one thing was clear: he would not walk away this time.
There was no turning back. Not anymore.