Specter stood atop the fractured skyline of the Forsaken Realm, cloak fluttering like smoke in a vacuum.
Below, the once-silent Citadel now roared with unrest.
His fingers hovered over the control glyphs, but paused mid-air.Not out of doubt—Out of something colder.
Familiarity.
He could feel her signal.
"Echo," he murmured, low and hoarse.
Behind him, the static shimmered—and there she was.
Hair pulled back, eyes blazing, hands unarmed but dangerous.
"You finally noticed," Echo said, voice like cracked crystal.
"I've come to take it all back."
He hadn't prepared for this.
Not really.
He'd calculated probability matrices, simulated betrayal loops, run trust-code diagnostics for years—But deep down, some part of him had always believed Echo would stay.
That she'd understand.
That she'd forgive what he did to preserve the Broadcast.
But the look in her eyes now?It wasn't rebellion.
It was disappointment.
