The shadow moved closer, fluid, human-shaped but unnervingly hollow. Its eyes, if they could be called eyes, glinted with fragments of neon light — shards of memory stolen from the city itself. Eren's veins glowed faintly beneath his skin, amber-hazel eyes flickering, gold threads pulsing against violet. The shard beneath his chest throbbed in resonance, a heartbeat against his own.
Kael's hand hovered near him, ready, protective. Even in the flickering neon light, there was an unspoken closeness, a tether between them stronger than the shard. He was silent, but every muscle spoke of his readiness to shield Eren.
"You're awake," a second shadow said, voice layered and distorted, as though it carried multiple echoes.
Eren's pulse raced. He took a step back instinctively. "Who are you?"
"We remember," it said simply. Its face became a ripple of countless eyes, all watching, all judging. "The city forgot. But we didn't. We've been waiting for you to take your place."
Kael stepped forward, flames flickering along his veins like controlled static. "They've been waiting too long. Eren doesn't belong to your memory. He belongs to himself."
The shadows moved in a synchronized rhythm, circling him, moving closer to the shard beneath his chest. Each step made the shard pulse brighter, the gold and violet streaks weaving patterns against his skin. It was almost beautiful — dangerous, yes, but beautiful — like watching lightning trapped inside glass.
Eren swallowed hard. He felt both dread and fascination. "What… do you want from me?"
The first shadow tilted its head, the fragmented eyes shimmering. "To see if you can survive the city's pulse. To see if you can wield what you've awakened. To see if you can remember yourself before it's too late."
Kael's jaw tightened. "They're testing you. Don't let them pull you apart. You control the Pulse, Eren, not the other way around."
Eren nodded, veins flaring under the tension. He lifted his hand, letting the shard's light bleed outward, illuminating the shadows in fractured neon. They recoiled slightly, whispering among themselves, faces flickering like reflections in shattered glass.
Then, from the shadows, a human figure stepped forward. Not a reflection, not a memory, but real. A young woman, hair like molten silver, eyes the color of storm clouds. She smiled faintly at Eren — not threatening, but full of knowing.
"I'm Sira," she said, voice steady, almost musical. "And you… you carry what we've long forgotten. But be careful. The Pulse remembers everything, Eren Vail. And once it begins, it doesn't forgive."
The shard beneath his chest flared violently. Eren stumbled, hand pressing over it, and the reflections of the city around them rippled like water. He could see fragments of faces he didn't recognize, streets he didn't remember walking, voices calling for something he could not name.
Kael's hand brushed his back, grounding him. "Breathe. Control it. The shard responds to you, not them. You're stronger than you think."
Eren's heartbeat synced with the shard's pulse, gold and violet streaks bright beneath his skin. Slowly, the fear gave way to focus. The shadows stopped moving, sensing his resistance, hesitating in their rhythm.
Sira's eyes met his. "The city sees you, but it also fears you. You have a choice — accept the Pulse fully, or resist and risk breaking the bond completely."
Eren felt the weight of the city's memory pressing in on him, the shard thrumming against his ribs like a drumbeat of fate. He glanced at Kael, gray eyes softening briefly in the neon haze. Their hands brushed lightly — a small, grounding gesture — and he realized how much he had come to rely on that silent connection.
Kael murmured, almost to himself, "You can do this. You've always been able to do this."
Eren closed his eyes, letting the shard's pulse flow through him. Faces blurred and shifted in the reflective puddles around them, yet one thought remained clear: he was not alone. Kael was beside him. And the Pulse — whatever it was — responded to him, and him alone.
A low hum filled the station, vibrating through the metal and water, a song only he could hear. Gold and violet veins flared in time with the rhythm. The shadows recoiled, then slowly, almost reluctantly, began to retreat. The shard's glow dimmed slightly, settling into a steady pulse beneath his skin.
Sira's expression softened. "Good. For now, you've survived the first test. But the city is waking, Eren. And not all who remember will wish you well."
Eren opened his eyes, amber-hazel glowing faintly. The shard felt calm, almost like it was breathing with him. He took a deep breath. "Then I'll be ready."
Kael's gaze met his, gray and steadfast. "We'll make sure of it."
Eren glanced back at the shadows. They were gone for now, leaving only echoes of memory and neon reflections. But the city — the Pulse itself — had shifted. And somewhere in the pulse, he could hear it whispering, waiting, and guiding him toward the next step.