The night sky stretched endlessly above them, its usual deep blues and purples now tainted with eerie streaks of crimson and silver, as if reality itself was beginning to unravel.
Kaelen sat by the dying campfire, staring into the flickering flames, his mind weighed down by Avarion's warning.
"You'll hear its voice soon enough."
His stomach twisted.
Because deep down, he knew Avarion wasn't lying.
The dreams had been getting worse.
They weren't just visions anymore.
They felt real.
Each night, he would find himself standing at the edge of a great abyss, surrounded by silence so absolute, it was like sound itself had been erased. And then—
The whisper.
A voice with no emotion, no rage, no malice.
Just emptiness.
"All things end, Kaelen."
He shuddered.
The whisper wasn't just in his dreams anymore.
He could feel it creeping at the edges of his mind even now.
"You're thinking too much again."
Kaelen glanced up. Lyria stood beside him, arms crossed, her silver hair illuminated by the fire's glow.
He forced a smirk. "Since when is thinking a crime?"
Lyria sat beside him. "Since it leads to you looking like you just swallowed a fireball."
Kaelen sighed. "…It's getting worse."
Lyria didn't need to ask what it was.
She had seen the way he woke up gasping for breath, drenched in sweat.
She had noticed how his magic flickered unpredictably, reacting to unseen forces.
She had felt it too—the creeping wrongness in the air, like reality itself was unraveling.
She was silent for a moment before saying, "We'll figure this out."
Kaelen ran a hand through his hair. "We always say that."
Lyria smirked. "And we always do."
Before he could respond, Thorne's voice broke the moment.
"Uh, guys? We have a problem."
Kaelen and Lyria turned just as Umbra materialized from the shadows, his eyes narrowed. "We're not alone."
Kaelen's senses snapped to alert.
He rose to his feet, scanning the darkness beyond their campsite.
Then—
He heard it.
A deep, resonant humming filled the air, a sound that didn't belong in this world.
And then, stepping into the firelight, they appeared.
The Faceless Ones.
Their forms were twisted, humanoid but lacking features. Their skin was an unnatural shade of ashen gray, their bodies pulsing with a dim, eerie light.
But their heads—
Their heads were empty voids, smooth and featureless, except for the faintest imprint of where a face should have been.
Kaelen's blood ran cold.
Because he had seen them before.
In his dreams.
"Stay sharp," Umbra whispered, his daggers already drawn.
Lyria nocked an arrow, her fingers steady despite the unnatural energy radiating from the creatures.
Thorne took a step forward, his sword gleaming with celestial fire. "You want to tell us what these things are, Kaelen?"
Kaelen exhaled, magic crackling at his fingertips.
"They're from the End."
Lyria cursed under her breath. "Fantastic."
One of the creatures tilted its head, as if studying them.
Then—
It spoke.
Not with a voice.
But directly into their minds.
"We are the Echo."
The words slithered into Kaelen's skull, cold and emotionless.
The Faceless Ones moved as one, their steps soundless.
And then—
They attacked.
The Battle Begins
The first creature lunged.
Kaelen barely dodged, feeling the air warp where the attack had passed. Reality itself seemed to bend in their presence.
Lyria's arrow struck one of them square in the chest.
It didn't even flinch.
Instead, the arrow vanished, as if erased from existence.
"What the—"
The creature turned to her, raising a hand.
Lyria leapt away just in time, narrowly avoiding a pulse of energy that ripped a hole in the ground where she had stood.
Thorne didn't hesitate. He charged, sword igniting as he brought it down on one of the creatures.
This time, the attack landed.
A deep gash split through the creature's chest, but instead of bleeding—
The wound sealed itself instantly.
Thorne barely had time to react before the creature swung its arm, sending him flying across the campsite.
"Okay," Thorne groaned. "That sucked."
Kaelen gritted his teeth. They weren't regenerating.
They were undoing the damage.
Like it never happened.
Umbra flickered in and out of the shadows, his daggers slicing through the creatures with precision. But every wound he inflicted simply vanished.
His eyes narrowed. "They're not alive."
Kaelen knew what he meant.
These things weren't flesh and blood.
They were manifestations of something greater.
And that meant—
They needed a different approach.
Kaelen took a deep breath.
He reached deep into his magic, calling forth pure energy—not just destruction, but creation itself.
And then—
He unleashed it.
A wave of radiant energy exploded from his hands, engulfing the creatures in golden light.
For a moment, they froze.
Then—
They began to flicker.
Kaelen's heart pounded. It was working.
But before he could push further, the largest of the Faceless Ones stepped forward.
Unlike the others, its form was more defined, its presence heavier.
It raised its hand.
And in that moment—
Kaelen felt something grip his soul.
"You are marked."
His vision blurred.
His mind was yanked away, pulled into something vast and endless.
And then—
He saw it.
The End.
A vast, shapeless nothingness, stretching beyond time and space.
A presence that was not a being, not a god, not even a force.
Just absence.
And it was watching him.
His breath hitched.
Then, with a violent jolt, he was thrown back into reality.
He gasped, collapsing to his knees.
Lyria was at his side instantly. "Kaelen! What happened?"
Kaelen's hands shook.
He looked at the Faceless Ones—
And they were gone.
Not defeated.
Just… erased.
Like they had never been there.
The only sign of their presence was the lingering coldness in the air.
And the whisper in Kaelen's mind.
"You are marked."
Kaelen exhaled shakily.
He didn't know what that meant.
But one thing was clear.
The End had just noticed him.
And it wasn't going to look away.
TO BE CONTINUED…