High atop the Citadel of Orders, Arch-Reclaimer Nyssan watched the footage in silence.
"He survived the transition," she whispered. "No... he mastered it."
A council of Reclaimers murmured.
"A Null Host activating a Tier-0 Gate? Impossible."
"He must be contained."
"He must be weaponized."
Nyssan rose. "He must be understood."
Meanwhile, Eron limped into the abandoned sprawl of Old Meridian. The system had gone quiet. Vira remained silent, as if allowing him space to think.
But thoughts didn't come easily.
Instead, he was haunted—by memories not his own. A battlefield of glass towers. A sword made of gravity. A scream that turned mountains to ash.
He collapsed beside a ruined fountain. The water shimmered unnaturally.
Then a hand reached out.
A girl—no older than him, in tattered robes and strange lenses across her eyes. "You're Echo-linked, aren't you?"
He tensed.
"Relax," she said. "I'm Arin. I've been tracking your signal since the Gate bloomed. You've got something inside you—and I think I can help you survive it."