The city hummed beneath them, alive in ways Eren had never noticed before. Even from the heights of the abandoned station, neon veins stretched across streets like arteries pumping light, carrying memory through asphalt and steel. Every building, every flickering sign seemed to whisper secrets — some urgent, some menacing, all impossible to ignore.
Eren's amber-hazel eyes flickered, gold threads glowing faintly as he adjusted to the shard's presence beneath his chest. It pulsed steadily, a rhythm that mirrored the city itself, tethering him to its heartbeat. He could feel faint echoes — not memories of his own, but fragments of lives, whispered emotions, the pulse of grief and desire and fear.
Kael's gray eyes scanned the streets below, sharp as broken glass. "The Ones Who Remember aren't done," he said, voice low. "They're assessing what the Pulse can do in you, how far it reaches. You're a beacon now, whether you like it or not."
Eren's pulse quickened. "Can they… hurt me through it?"
Kael shook his head, hand brushing Eren's lightly — a small, grounding gesture that sent warmth up his arm. "Not if you keep control. The shard responds to you first. You've felt it already, haven't you? The pull, the warning… that's your bond, your shield."
Eren nodded, veins flaring beneath his dark chocolate skin, gold and violet threads threading across his arms and neck. He could feel the city's memory pressing in on him, fragments of streets, voices, and lives brushing past the edges of his mind. Some felt like home. Others… like warnings.
"Then let's see what they remember," Kael murmured, stepping closer. His presence was a tether, a constant grounding force in the maelstrom of light and pulse. Eren's heart thumped, a strange mixture of fear and something more — trust, reliance, and a subtle, unspoken connection that hummed between them.
From the shadows of the station, Sira appeared again, her silver hair glinting like a storm-touched river. She nodded at Eren, almost like an acknowledgment, then gestured toward a corridor that led deeper into the tower. "Follow me," she said. "There's more you need to see. More you need to remember."
The shard pulsed violently, sensing the movement, reacting to the anticipation in the air. Eren's hands trembled faintly as he followed her, Kael a step behind, silent and watchful.
The corridor opened into a vast chamber, walls lined with mirrors of different sizes, fractured and imperfect. Some shimmered like liquid, others captured fragments of light from the city outside. The air was thick with a low hum, vibrating through the floor, the walls, even Eren's veins.
"Each mirror," Sira explained, voice calm and melodic, "contains a fragment of memory. Some belong to the city, some to the Pulse, some to those it touches… like you."
Eren stepped closer, amber-hazel eyes reflecting the fractured neon light. He could see pieces of himself in the mirrors — a child in a hospital bed, trembling hands, flashes of streets he didn't recognize but somehow remembered. The shard beneath his chest flared brighter as if reacting to the images.
Kael's hand brushed against his shoulder, grounding him. "Don't lose yourself in it," he warned. "These are echoes. Not all of them are yours yet. But they will guide you… if you're careful."
Eren swallowed hard. He could feel the shard pulsing in rhythm with the city, with Kael, with the memories themselves. Each mirror seemed to reach toward him, inviting him, daring him to touch, to connect, to remember.
Sira stepped closer. "Reach. But be careful. The Pulse doesn't forgive hesitation. It rewards understanding… and punishes doubt."
Eren lifted a hand, trembling slightly. As his fingers brushed the nearest mirror, a surge of energy shot through him, illuminating the shard beneath his skin. Gold and violet threads danced across his arms, his chest, his neck, as visions erupted: flashes of streets in Vareth, faces he didn't know but felt like he should, emotions he hadn't experienced yet thrumming against his heart.
He staggered, gripping the shard. "It's… too much."
Kael stepped in, placing both hands lightly on Eren's shoulders. "Breathe. Focus on me. Focus on the shard. Let the memories come to you, not the other way around."
Eren closed his eyes. The shard pulsed, steady now, a heartbeat beneath his chest. Slowly, the visions organized themselves, forming coherent threads. A street corner. A scream. A hand reaching for another hand. A light cutting through darkness.
And then — a face.
A boy, older than he remembered being, with sharp features, amber-hazel eyes flickering like his own. He smiled faintly, but there was a weight in those eyes — a burden, a history, a secret.
Eren's shard flared violently. "I… I know him," he whispered.
Kael's gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. "You do. He's part of the Pulse… and part of you."
The chamber trembled slightly, shadows shifting in the mirrors. Sira's silver hair shimmered as she spoke again. "You're beginning to remember. But the Pulse is patient. It will not give everything at once. Not yet. You must learn to carry the fragments without breaking."
Eren nodded, gold and violet veins glowing faintly beneath his skin. He could feel the shard humming, alive, like a heartbeat tethered to the city itself.
"Who are the others?" he asked quietly. "The Ones Who Remember… what do they want?"
Sira's gaze was steady. "Some wish to guide you. Some wish to control you. Some… wish to destroy what you are before you understand it. That is why Kael is here. That is why you must learn to control the Pulse, Eren Vail. Not because the city asks it… but because you alone can survive it."
Eren looked at Kael, gray eyes locking with amber-hazel, and felt the unspoken weight between them. Trust, protection, something deeper than fear — something tethered him to Kael in ways he didn't fully understand yet. The shard pulsed in harmony, responding to the silent connection, the growing understanding that he was not alone.
The chamber hummed, alive with the Pulse, the shards of memory, and the unseen watchers of Vareth. Eren's amber-hazel eyes glinted, gold and violet veins flaring brighter. He knew, deep within, that the city, the Pulse, Kael, Sira, and even the Ones Who Remember were threads in a single tapestry — and he was the center.
He clenched his fists, letting the shard's energy flow through him. "Then I'll remember. All of it. And I'll be ready."
Kael's hand brushed his back once more. "We'll face it together."
And for the first time, Eren felt the shard's pulse harmonize completely with his own. A rhythm that was his. The city waited, holding its breath, and the first whispers of the Pulse spoke directly to him — tender, terrible, inevitable.
Eren Vail was beginning to remember.