For the first time in weeks, Auron found himself walking alone.
No guild banners flapped beside him, no system notifications interrupted his thoughts, and the constant hum of the Ascension Grid had faded into the background. Just the crunch of gravel beneath his boots and the quiet rustling of wind through jagged rocks accompanied him.
He had left the others behind at the Emberlight Outpost. Elira protested, of course—said they needed a plan, a united front. Even Magnus, ever the blade-before-brain type, had warned him not to wander into the Hollow Verge alone.
But Auron couldn't shake the feeling. That gnawing pull in his chest, like a string being tugged from deep within. Something was waiting for him. Not a quest marker. Not a bounty. Something older than either.
The Verge was dead land.
No trees. No creatures. Just craggy stone and an occasional flicker of blue flame that danced along the cliffs like memories trying to escape. Ancient runes carved into the rock hummed faintly, not enough to trigger any alert from his HUD—but Auron didn't need a prompt to know: this place was awake.
He paused near a narrow ravine, where the wind was strongest. The stone beneath his feet was cracked, layered with dark mineral lines that pulsed faintly under the moonlight. It looked… almost like a scar.
And that's when he heard it.
Not a voice, exactly. More like a pressure behind his ears. A rhythm. Like breath echoing from beneath the surface. Slow. Deliberate.
He knelt, pressing his palm to the rock.
System Notification: Unknown Signature Detected. No Data Available.
Of course there wasn't. This wasn't part of the system. This was something it couldn't catalog.
Then came the whisper.
Auron…
His name, soft and drawn like wind over bone. He flinched back, eyes darting across the cliffs. Nothing. No movement. No trace of anyone nearby.
The voice came again, but this time inside him. Not in his mind, not like telepathy from another player—but deeper. Somewhere between his heart and his soul, if such a thing existed in this world anymore.
"You are unbound. You are the breach."
He staggered back.
And then the ground cracked.
Not like in the dungeons—this wasn't scripted. There was no cinematic. Just a raw, primal tearing sound as the stone beneath him split apart, forming a narrow chasm. Auron jumped back just in time, landing on his back, dust rising around him in choking clouds.
From the opening, a dim violet glow pulsed, and a shape began to emerge.
Not a creature. A mask.
Old. Metallic. Etched with lines he couldn't read.
It floated upward, turning slowly in the air before settling inches from his face. Then it pulsed once—and a message burned into his vision:
NEW PROTOCOL UNLOCKED: ECHOFRAME — Tier ??This protocol exists outside the Ascension Grid. Integration is irreversible.[ACCEPT] – [REJECT]
He didn't move.
This was not just another class upgrade. This wasn't cosmetic. This was something the System didn't control.
"Auron, what the hell are you doing?!"
He turned—Elira stood at the ridge, eyes wide, her staff glowing with defensive wards. Behind her, Magnus cursed under his breath, already halfway down the slope with blades drawn.
But before either could reach him, the mask shot forward—slamming into Auron's chest.
A shockwave burst from the impact, sending both his companions flying backward.
And then everything went silent.
When Auron opened his eyes, the sky above had changed.
The stars were gone. The HUD was gone. Even his interface—vanished.
He stood in a void of white ash and flickering ruins.
But in front of him stood a figure.
Tall. Dressed in armor not unlike his own—except layered with symbols from every faction, every era, every world Auron had glimpsed through Ascension Gates.
The figure removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that should not have existed.
It was his.
But older. Marked. Tired.
"I told you you'd reach me eventually," the double said. "The fracture began with us. It ends with us too."
Auron swallowed. "Who... are you?"
The other smiled grimly.
"I'm what happens if you keep ascending without asking why."
And with that, the void cracked.
Reality snapped back.
Auron gasped awake on the ridge, the Verge silent once more.
But the mask was gone.
Only a faint imprint glowed on his chest—one no one else could see.
And deep within his system log, where only root-level protocols could reach, a line of code blinked in red:
#Echoframe_Seed: Installed