The ground trembled beneath their feet as Eren and Jace neared the pulse—the source of the strange energy that had begun to saturate the air around them. The figure standing in the distance radiated a sickening energy, a presence that immediately set their nerves on edge.
"It's not another contestant," Eren muttered under his breath, eyeing the figure warily.
Jace didn't answer right away. His eyes narrowed, and his hand hovered near his weapon. "No. It's not."
The figure shimmered, the edges of its form flickering and distorting in the air, as though it existed in two places at once. It was a man—or something pretending to be one—standing at the heart of a golden fracture in the ground. The cracks pulsed, erratically but steadily, like the throb of a dying heart.
Eren's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. "What is this?"
Jace's voice was low, but urgent. "We shouldn't be meeting this one."
The figure took a step forward. The golden light around it flickered again, warping and shimmering in an unsettling way. The air felt heavier with each movement. A deep, unnatural voice rumbled from it, sounding as though it came from every direction at once.
"Vessel… You've returned."
Eren's chest tightened. "Who—"
Jace cut him off, his eyes locked onto the figure. "We know it."
The figure stepped closer, the shifting golden light making its features almost impossible to focus on. It was a man—tall, with an empty gaze. His expression was weary, his body distorted as though time itself had been unkind to him.
"I was you," it said, the voice echoing across the space. "And now... I am what remains."
Eren glanced at Jace, confusion flickering across his face. "What the hell is it talking about?"
But Jace didn't look away from the figure. His jaw was clenched, and his voice was tight with something else. "I remember it," he muttered.
The figure's eyes locked on Jace now, narrowing as if seeing right through him. "You're the one who broke, but you came back, didn't you? You can feel it—the pull of the game, even after all this time."
Jace took a slow breath, but didn't answer immediately. There was no need to. The truth was in the air between them, thick and suffocating.
"Everything you know—everything you think you know—is a lie," the Echo continued, the words laced with a haunting clarity. "You were never meant to remember. You were meant to be a cog in their machine."
Eren's grip on his blade tightened. "We already know the gods are dying. You think we don't see the cracks? The cycle? It's all just a trap."
The Echo's lips curled into a bitter smile, but there was no humor in it. "You think you understand? This is no mere game. You've been born for it. Over and over again. And now…" The figure's form rippled and flickered violently, as though the very air rejected it. "Now you're just like me."
Before either of them could react, the air itself warped violently. The figure's body exploded in a burst of gold, only to twist and shift into something monstrous—something twisted by the very gods they had been fighting against. The figure no longer resembled a man, but a hulking mass of corrupted divine energy, a creature of warped power.
The ground shook violently as the creature's voice boomed, low and distorted. "You should have stayed blind. But now... you're part of it."
Jace didn't flinch. He simply drew his blade, his face set in stone. His voice was cold, cutting through the tension with precision. "Then let's finish this."
The creature roared, a deafening, world-shattering sound, as it charged at them with the full weight of corrupted godly power. There was no hesitation, no grand speech—just raw destruction coming their way.
Eren met Jace's gaze for the briefest of moments, understanding passing between them. There were no words left. Only the fight.