At first light, Winterdeep’s ancient basilica stood tall and silent. The sun rose slowly, and its golden rays passed through the tall stained-glass windows, painting the marble floor with glowing patterns of red, blue, and green. Light danced like music across the faces of the gathered council.Inside, the Council of Echoes had gathered again. They sat in wide, curved rows,scholars, diplomats, guardians, and the strange glowing shapes called Vestige Echoes, who floated silently near the walls. Everyone looked toward the raised platform in the center, where a glowing object pulsed gently in a glass dome. It was the Echo of Possibility, the source of many changes in their world.At the front stood Oliver, tall and calm, dressed in a simple gray cloak that carried the weight of command. His voice echoed in the large chamber as he stepped forward.“We have worked hard,” Oliver said, his tone firm but thoughtful. “We’ve calmed the wild echoes. We’ve made it possibility safe. But now, the

The wind howled. Leaves scattered like frightened birds across the muddy battlefield. The ground was soaked with blood and rain. Shattered weapons lay forgotten among broken bodies. Fires hissed as the storm tried to smother them.Oliver stood in the center, shaking. He was alone. His sword, once bright and sharp, now hung heavy in his hand, chipped and covered in grime. His armor had cracks. Blood dripped from a wound on his forehead, running into his eyes and blinding him.“Get up, Oliver!” screamed a voice in his mind, faint, like a whisper behind a locked door.But he couldn't move. The beasts had come fast. Ugly, massive things with glowing red eyes, skin like rock, and claws like razors. No spell had stopped them. No blade had slowed them. They came through the trees like a flood of nightmares.His friends, gone. Lance, the archer, was the first to fall. One of the beasts grabbed him by the legs and smashed him into a tree. His body cracked like dry wood.Selena tried to prot

The world was still ringing from the voice. It wasn’t just a sound. It was a command that shook the bones of the earth and made the air feel heavy, like a storm pressing down.Oliver lay on the cracked ground, struggling to breathe. Every muscle in his body felt as if it had been turned to stone, every breath like pulling air through broken glass.He could still hear the echo of the shout in his mind. The words weren’t even in a language he understood, yet they burned with meaning: “Stop.” And the monsters… they had stopped.The swarm of creatures that had been closing in only seconds before now stood frozen. Their bodies twitched in place, claws halfway raised, teeth bared but unmoving. Their eyes, black pits filled with hunger, blinked rapidly, as if trying to fight against some invisible force.Oliver forced his head to the side. His vision swam, but he could just make out the figure descending from the sky. The archangel.Golden light spilled from every feather of its wings, brig

The old woman’s voice was sharp, almost a whisper, yet it carried through the dim room like a blade through silk.“Don’t go to the window,” she said again, her eyes fixed on the wooden shutters that rattled softly in the wind.Oliver froze mid-step. His breathing slowed, and a strange heaviness settled over his body. It wasn’t just fear. It was instinct, like his bones knew something his mind hadn’t yet caught up to.“What’s out there?” he asked. His voice was low, but it trembled despite his effort to sound calm.The old woman didn’t look at him. Her thin fingers twisted the edge of her shawl. “If you look, it will see you. And once it sees you…” She swallowed hard. “You won’t be able to leave.”A cold draft seeped into the room, carrying with it a faint smell, like wet earth mixed with something metallic. Blood.Oliver stepped back from the window, every muscle tight. “We can’t just sit here. If there’s something dangerous.”Her eyes darted toward him, sudden and fierce. “You think

The tunnel air was damp, carrying a chill that clung to Oliver’s skin. Every breath he took was heavy with the scent of wet stone and the faint, metallic tang of something older. It wasn’t just underground air; it was the kind of stillness that felt lived in, as if something had been waiting here for centuries.The man in the dark armor hadn’t moved since tossing him the coin. His hood and mask kept his face hidden, but Oliver could feel the weight of his gaze, sharp and measuring.The glowing moss above flickered faintly, casting the man’s armor in shifting shadows. Scratches and dents ran across the metal plates, each one telling a story of a fight survived or barely escaped.Oliver’s fingers closed tighter around the coin. “What do you mean, they found us?”The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he moved to the wall, pressing a gloved hand against the stone. His head tilted, as though listening to something deep inside the rock. A faint rumble echoed through the tunnel, fol