Darkness.
Then, like a flicker at the edge of memory, he saw it. A flame. Floating in the pitch-black expanse, gently swaying as if beckoning him closer. His breathing was ragged, labored, each gasp echoing in the emptiness. But his legs moved. One trembling step at a time, drawn toward the light.
He reached out.
The moment his fingers grazed the flame—
Boom.
His eyes snapped open.
A surge of heat exploded from his chest, blasting outward in a searing wave. The minotaur, gripping him tightly, recoiled with a guttural bellow and stumbled backward, releasing him. Echo dropped to the ground with a grunt, but the fire in his veins had not dimmed.
Without thinking, he raised his hand—and the black stick came hurtling toward him through the air, sliding into his palm like it had always belonged there.
He stared at it, panting, heart pounding.
"Mamba," he whispered. "I'll name you Mamba."
The minotaur snarled and rose again, retrieving his massive axe from the ground. With a roar, it charged, swinging the gleaming weapon toward Echo's head.
"Watch out!" his friends shouted from the water tower. Cassian's voice cracked with urgency, and Lior, still clutching his side, looked ready to leap down despite his injury.
Just before the axe could connect, circles of wind spun beneath Echo's feet, like coiled springs forming from the air itself. He was launched skyward—soaring higher than even the water tower.
From below, Zayden stared, mouth agape. "What the hell?!"
Even Echo, suspended midair, looked down in awe.
"Let's go, Mamba," he muttered—and dove.
His descent was furious, Mamba gripped tightly as he plummeted. The black staff met the axe mid-swing in a fiery explosion, a shockwave rippling across the grass. Echo landed and didn't stop—his feet skidded across the earth, and he darted forward again, faster than he'd ever moved.
Faster than Zayden. Faster than Cassian.
The minotaur struck again, but Echo slid under the blade, legs bent low, wind trailing behind him. The axe missed by inches, slicing air instead of bone. Then, without warning, the beast launched a massive kick.
Echo barely raised his arms to block, but before the impact landed, a large boulder erupted from the ground in front of him—catching the blow and splintering apart.
Jarek and Thorne, still watching wide-eyed, exchanged a stunned glance.
"It's like…" Jarek started.
"…he's using all our powers at once," Thorne finished.
"But it's not just that," Zayden said. "It's like he's… one with nature right now."
The broken boulder crumbled between them, giving Echo a second's reprieve. He and the minotaur stood apart, sizing each other up. Then, in unison, they charged.
Mamba clashed with the axe once more—but this time, the force behind the minotaur's strike was too great. Echo was flung back, crashing into the earth and tumbling across the grass.
He gritted his teeth. Too strong.
He needed more. He had to recreate that blast. He reached inward—nothing.
The minotaur swung again, and Echo barely dodged, the axe slicing past his shoulder.
He retaliated with Mamba, but the strike bounced harmlessly off the beast's hide. He leapt up to strike again—but the creature caught his leg midair and flung him like a ragdoll.
Echo smashed into a stone fountain with a sickening crack.
His vision blurred. Warm blood dripped down his forehead into his right eye, staining the world in crimson hues.
The minotaur advanced, slowly, dragging its axe behind it with a grinding screech that sparked against the ground. Each step was deliberate. Menacing. A predator savoring the end.
Echo gasped for air, his body refusing to rise.
Then—another sensation. Not fire this time. Not air or earth.
Water.
A sphere hovered near his shoulder, pulsing like a heartbeat. He didn't think—he knew. He raised his hand and pointed.
From the fountain, shimmering orbs of water lifted into the air—then launched like bullets, piercing into the minotaur's side. The beast roared, stunned.
Echo ran, leapt, landed on its massive chest. In one desperate cry, he drove Mamba into the creature's glowing eye.
"Eat this, Taurus!"
The minotaur screamed, flailing as it staggered backward. Echo was flung into the dirt. The world spun around him.
But he didn't hesitate.
He planted his feet, roared through the blood in his throat, and this time—he felt it.
Flames burst around him, spiraling from his arms as if ignited by will alone. He extended one arm toward the blinded beast.
And blasted.
The explosion lit up the trees, fire swallowing the darkness as the minotaur was sent hurtling into the woods with a thunderous crash, smoke rising from its charred form.
Echo collapsed to one knee, panting, vision swimming. The night air was thick with smoke and the scent of scorched bark.
Above him, the voices of his friends called out—but they sounded far away.
His hands trembled. His body ached. But Mamba was still in his grip.
And he was still standing.