Echo reappeared without warning.
One moment the path was empty. The next, he was there, standing alone, no images, no illusions. Just him.
His arm was bleeding. The wound Suho had given him was still fresh. Blood dripped from his fingers, staining the stone beneath his feet.
He wasn't smiling.
His eyes were cold. Flat. Empty.
"You should have died," he said.
His voice was different. No amusement. No playfulness. Just exhaustion and something darker.
"Why didn't you die?"
Suho stood across from him.
His chest heaved. His shoulder was a mess of blood and torn fabric. His burned hand throbbed. The Eclipse Fang hung loose around his arm, its runes still glowing faintly.
"I don't die easily," Suho said.
More like— I can't die.
Just how many times must I endure the agony of dying, only to be stubbornly alive?
Echo's jaw tightened.
"Apparently not."
He raised his blade.
"No more games."
Echo attacked.
No illusions. No teleportation. Just speed.
