The city had been dead for thirty years.

  Once, it had been called Harrowpoint, a sprawling metropolis of gss and steel, home to millions. Now, it was nothing more than a decaying husk, its streets littered with broken memories and the remnants of a world that no longer existed.

  Lucian Vale knew these streets well. He had grown up in them, navigating the ruins like a rat in a maze, surviving on whatever scraps he could find. It wasn’t much of a life, but it was the only one he had.

  The wind howled through the shattered buildings, carrying the scent of rain and something far worse—the lingering stench of the Echo-Touched.

  Monsters.

  Lucian adjusted the grip on his knife, his pulse steady. The bde was old, scavenged from a corpse years ago, but it was sharp enough to kill. That was all that mattered.

  "Stay quiet," a voice murmured beside him.

  Sable moved like a shadow, her footfalls silent against the cracked pavement. She was only a year older than him, but she carried herself like someone who had already lived through a war. Maybe she had.

  They had been scavenging near the outer ruins when they heard the noise—low, guttural breathing, something shifting in the darkness of a colpsed overpass.

  Lucian exhaled. "Think it saw us?"

  Sable shook her head. "Not yet. But we need to move."

  They crept along the alley, past the wreckage of an old convenience store. Most of the shelves had been picked clean years ago, but Lucian knew better than to assume everything was gone. He had a knack for finding things others missed.

  A single Echo Shard y buried beneath the dust—a fragment of shimmering crystal no bigger than a coin.

  He crouched, brushing dirt away from the shard’s surface.

  The moment his fingers touched it, a pulse of something shivered through his bones.

  A whisper.

  A ugh.

  Lucian yanked his hand back, his breath hitching.

  Sable gnced at him. "What?"

  "Nothing." He shoved the shard into his pocket. "Let’s go."

  But the ughter didn’t stop.

  It only grew louder.

  _______________________________________

  They made it back to the inner city, the scavenge of them was productive, they earned 500 credits, or how Sable like to call ' today's dinner money'.

  They were in the subway, it's a pce to beggers or homeless people to live, was stinky and horrible to be but the guards in the streets didn't care, if they saw a person sleeping in the open, she would get beaten and stay near death.

  Lucian sat near the fire, rolling the Echo Shard between his fingers.

  Sable watched him. "You should throw that away."

  He smirked. "Why?"

  "You know why."

  He did. Everyone did. Echo Shards weren’t just remnants of the past—they were dangerous. Some said they carried pieces of the old world, fragments of the Catastrophe that had torn reality apart. Others believed they were alive, waiting for someone foolish enough to touch them.

  Lucian had always been foolish.

  The ughter returned, curling around his mind like smoke.

  Would you like to py a game?

  Lucian’s heart skipped. The fire crackled, shadows twisting along the tunnel walls.

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  Ignore it.

  Ignore it.

  But the voice was relentless.

  Come now, little shadow. Surely, you’re curious?

  The shard pulsed. The world tilted.

  And then, Lucian was no longer in the subway.

  _______________________________________

  He stood in a void.

  Bck. Infinite.

  And yet, in the distance, a single mirror floated in the emptiness.

  Lucian stared. His own reflection looked back at him—same dark hair, same sharp features—but something was wrong.

  The eyes weren’t his.

  They were ughing.

  A figure stepped forward from the reflection, wearing a tattered harlequin’s motley. Its face was painted white, lips curved into a jagged red grin.

  Lucian swallowed. "What the hell—"

  The figure bowed.

  "Ah, my dear, dear Lucian. You found me at st."

  The voice was like silk, smooth and teasing, every word dripping with amusement.

  Lucian took a step back. "Who are you?"

  The figure chuckled. "Why, I’m you, of course. Or rather… I’m what you could become."

  Lucian’s hands clenched. "I don’t—"

  "Shh." The figure raised a gloved finger. "Let’s not ruin the surprise. The world is a stage, and I am merely your most devoted audience."

  Lucian exhaled sharply. "This is an Echo thing, isn’t it?"

  The figure grinned. "Oh, you are clever. Yes, little shadow. I am an Echo. And you, lucky boy, have been chosen."

  Lucian’s breath caught.

  This was how it happened. How people awakened.

  An Echo imprinting onto their soul, carving its power into their bones.

  But not all Echoes were equal.

  And some—some were never meant to be found.

  Lucian hesitated. "What do you want from me?"

  The figure’s grin widened. "I want to py a game."

  The void shuddered.

  The mirror cracked.

  And Lucian fell.

  _______________________________________

  Lucian awoke with a gasp.

  His body burned, veins alight with something other, something new. His mind swam with fragmented whispers, ughter echoing in the corners of his thoughts.

  And then, like a brand seared into his soul, the words carved themselves into reality.

  [Echo Imprint Detected]

  Name: Lucian Vale

  Echo: Harlequin

  Title: Jester of the Last Jest

  Rank: Harmonic

  Unique Attributes:

  [Step of the Deceiver] → Your movements are absolute. You cannot stumble, trip, or be forced off bance.

  [Pierrot’s Reflex] → Your reaction speed increases in proportion to the danger you face.

  [Laughing Abyss] → Your mind is immune to all forms of fear and manipution. However, prolonged combat warps your perception of reality.

  Engraved runes:

  Minor rune: [Mocking Step] → Movement speed increases while taunting an enemy.

  Lucian’s breath came in ragged gasps. The Echo had chosen him.

  And somewhere deep inside, he knew—

  His life would never be the same.

  _______________________________________

  Sable shook him awake.

  "Lucian," she hissed. "Get up."

  His eyes snapped open. His body felt different—lighter, sharper, wrong. The whispers still lingered, the Echo’s presence curling around his thoughts.

  He could hear the city breathing.

  "Something’s coming," Sable said.

  Lucian sat up.

  And then he heard it.

  The ughter.

  Not his. Not the Echo’s.

  Something else.

  Something that did not belong.

  The shadows outside twisted.

  And the world screamed.

  A scream so horrendous that everyone in the subway passed out, Lucian stood awake, the blood sliding from his ears to the cheeks and dripping to the ground.

  Weeping blood, he passed out too.

  _______________________________________

  In the entire city of Harrowpoint only one person didn't get knocked out, Kian was in his office, he went up recently, ascending to an Walker, the third tier of the Echo abilities.

  He was doing paperwork, almost finishing, after that he would go to Beyond and join his comrades to kill some beasts and get Forgottens until he heard a little ugh that suddenly raised to an histerycal scream, he felt his head hurting.

  Knowing that if he got hurt probably some people even died just from the ugh, or at least will be in coma.

  Raising from his chair he suddenly jumped, breaking the window, if someone saw him, he would just see an after image of a man that held a spear that shined in gold, wearing a bck armor with exquisitive patterns.