The tower had gone quiet again, but Abeni's mind was louder than ever. She sat beneath the broken mirror, the journal open across her knees, the symbols staring back like constellations waiting to be named.
She traced the lines with her fingers, whispering the phrases aloud:
"The Echo Circle… the mirror sky… the pact beneath Orion."
Each word felt like a key unlocking something ancient. Her grandmother hadn't just been a stargazer—she'd been part of a secret network that believed the stars could carry messages to those lost in time. The Echo Circle had formed during the war, when grief was too heavy to bear and hope too fragile to hold. They built towers like this one, scattered across the country, each tuned to a different frequency of the sky.
But the pact had failed. A solar flare had interrupted the final transmission. The journal hinted at a man named E.O.—a soldier, a scientist, maybe both—who had vanished before the last message could be sent. Her grandmother had tried to finish it, but something had stopped her.
Abeni felt the weight of that unfinished promise pressing against her chest. She wasn't just uncovering history—she was inheriting it.
Outside, the wind stirred the trees. The stars blinked overhead, patient and watchful.
She knew what she had to do.