I ran until my legs forgot they were tired.
Half of me was moving on instinct—the other half was blank space pretending to be a person.
The tower loomed ahead, lopsided and fractured, jutting from the cracked stone plains like a broken tooth. It slashed the gray sky in jagged lines, its top long since caved in. No visible entrance. No windows. No pathways. Just a tower that had no business still standing.
But the screaming had come from here.
And the name.
Ashon.
That name.
Every step brought heat to my skin, not just from exertion—but familiarity. Wrong kind. Like running toward a fire I'd already survived once.
By the time I reached its base, the tower hissed with silence.
There were carvings along the outer layer. Not normal ones—deep gouges in the stone, rhythmic, repetitive. Some were symbols. Others looked like tally marks, long trails starting low and climbing skyward, stabbed over and over in uneven lines.
Like someone had tried to climb it.
And failed.
I stepped forward. One pace.
Then stopped.
Because standing at the base of the tower was the girl who screamed.
She faced the wall, one hand pressed flat against the stone, motionless.
Hair matted with ash. Thin frame. Dirty boots wrapped in cloth. A cloak hung off one shoulder, torn at the bottom like it had been dragged.
Something flickered off her skin. Like a glitch in the air. Real, but not solid.
As if the world wasn't sure whether she belonged here.
She didn't turn when she spoke.
"You took your time."
My throat closed. I tried to speak. Nothing came out.
The girl leaned her head against the tower wall.
"It's not your fault. You don't remember."
"You're still… early."
She turned slowly.
Eyes dull. Sick with something deeper than exhaustion. She stared right through me—but her expression never changed.
"They told me that if I screamed your name when I died, you might remember mine."
"...What?"
"Didn't work," she said quietly, as if to herself. "Still doesn't."
The wind shifted. Her body flickered again. She swayed, legs weakening.
I lunged forward and caught her by reflex—her weight collapsed into mine. Too light. Too cold.
But not dead.
Not yet.
She looked up at me again.
"You still breathe," she whispered. "That's good."
"Who are you?" I asked.
I didn't expect an answer.
I got one anyway.
"Lorne."
Her name slipped into the same space in my mind where mine had first lodged itself. With it came something else—a memory not mine:
A laugh echoing in a collapsed library.
Running through cold rain barefoot.
Lorne.
Not a stranger.
But not someone I could afford to believe in yet.
She coughed once, then shoved something into my hand before collapsing fully.
A fragment of cloth. Twisted around a shard of metal—black, dull, but pulsing faintly against my palm.
My fingers tightened.
[ ECHO ACQUIRED: FIRST BINDING — "Torn Memory: LORNE." ]
I didn't know what that meant.
But I felt it enter me.
Not physically, not in my veins — in memory. Like part of me had stopped resisting the fact that this had happened before.
Lorne's breath slowed.
She shook in my arms, threads of light peeling from her skin as if she were being forgotten by the world in real-time.
"They said if I gave you this, you'd remember."
"That you might… anchor me."
"Lorne, stay awake—"
"Don't climb until you're ready."
"The next level isn't ascent. It's collapse."
Her body flickered harder.
Then steadied.
The tower shuddered behind her.
I looked up.
And this time, I saw the door.
It wasn't there before. Wasn't carved or built.
It had stitched itself into the wall in silence—like the Spiral had blinked and decided yes, now entrance is allowed.
A thin black outline on a warped wall. No handle. Just a vertical slit barely wide enough for a person.
I looked down.
Lorne was unconscious or worse — still warm, still breathing.
But if this door had only appeared after I remembered her…
Was that the price?
"Remember someone… and move forward."
But if I forgot her later...
What then?
As I turned back to the door, something changed.
A sound.
Shuffling.
Crunching stone.
Not from the tower.
Behind me.
I spun around, blade raised.
No one there.
But across the field — where other graves stood closed — one was now open.
A second.
A third.
Figures stood from within them. Stiff. Wrong.
They looked like people.
But moved like puppets.
Skin too smooth. Eyes sunken. Heads tilting.
Claw marks on their chests. Some still had binding cloth clinging to their legs.
But they weren't Gravebound.
Not like me.
These were Falseborn.
I didn't know how I knew that. But the word landed hard.
They weren't alive.
They weren't dead.
They were memories that didn't stick.
They moved slowly.
But not aimlessly.
Straight.
Toward me.
Toward Lorne.
One of them opened its mouth. Not enough to speak. Just tear it wide, like unhinging bone to scream.
But no sound came out.
I stepped back, breath sharp. My grip on the blade tightened. The names marked along its body glowed faint amber now.
The Falseborn picked up speed.
Too many. Too fast.
I looked to the tower door again.
Still open.
Just wide enough.
I didn't think.
I lifted Lorne, gripping her under the shoulder.
Ran.
The instant my foot crossed the black threshold, light cracked through the seams. The world screamed without sound.
The door slammed behind us.
Darkness.
Then the light returned.
Cold. Moist.
We were inside.
Bare stone walls. Circles of dust drifting like ash in thick air.
The silence in here was alive.
Like every stone was holding its breath.
The Falseborn hadn't followed.
But they would find a way.
They always found a way.
I laid Lorne down in the center of the chamber. Grimaced as blood slid from her mouth onto her chin.
She was paler.
Flickering slower.
[ ECHO STABILITY CRITICAL. LINK FRACTURE IMMINENT. ]
I shouted at the system in my head. "Fix her. Give her something. Take mine if you have to."
[...Matching Echo signature...]
[...Fragment paired.]
[ Initiate Echo Bind? Y/N ]
"Yes."
My hand pulsed. The shard she'd given me glowed–then burned into my palm. I gritted my teeth and didn't scream.
Lorne stirred.
Coughed. Eyes fluttered open — not sharp this time.
But glowing faintly… the same color as the blade.
What the hell had I just done?
[ ECHOBOUND UNLOCKED — First Link Pair: LORNE ]
[ Skill gained: REMNANT CHAIN ]
Anchor a chosen presence to your memory — preventing their erasure upon full descent. Passive resistance to forgetting.
Increased Fracture depth. Warning: Identity Transfer threshold active.
I didn't understand most of it. Not yet.
But one thing was clear:
She was still here because I remembered her.
The Spiral wants you to forget.
And the only thing that fights back?
Memory strong enough to hurt you.
Lorne stirred once more.
"You're not ready for the next level."
"But it doesn't care."
"What's there?"
She looked at me, then through me.
"The version of you that didn't die right."