The stairway spiraled downward like a serpent carved into the mountain's spine. Each step hummed faintly beneath Orion's feet, as if reacting to his presence. The deeper they went, the cooler the air became—dense with ancient energy, tinged with a metallic scent like old lightning trapped in stone.
Liora walked ahead but kept glancing back at him, as though half-afraid he might disappear, half-awed by what he had become.
The glow on Orion's skin had faded, but its memory lingered—an invisible pressure thrumming in his veins. It wasn't overwhelming… but it wasn't quiet either.
It felt like a sleeping storm.
Finally, the narrow passage widened into a colossal chamber.
The Hall of Echoes.
Orion stopped instinctively.
Dozens—hundreds—of floating crystalline spires hovered in the air, slowly rotating. Each one emitted a faint whisper, like memories caught in glass. The floor was reflective black stone, polished so perfectly it showed the sky beneath their feet, even though they were deep underground.
At the far end, five figures stood in a crescent formation.
The Elders.
Their robes were woven from threads of starlight, and their faces seemed carved from time itself—lined, wise, and unreadable. Their very presence bent the air, like standing too close to a deep vortex.
Liora straightened and bowed deeply.
"Honored Elders. Orion of the Lost Path has completed the First Trial."
The Hall grew silent.
The middle Elder, a tall man with silver eyes like lunar frost, stepped forward.
"Step closer, Orion."
Orion's body obeyed before his mind did. As he approached, the crystalline spires drifted aside, opening a path for him. Their whispers grew louder—snippets of forgotten names, old battles, dying stars.
When he stood before the Elders, the silver-eyed one lifted a hand. A sphere of pure light condensed in his palm.
"Place your hand here," the Elder instructed.
Orion hesitated, glancing at Liora. She nodded.
He pressed his hand into the sphere.
Instantly, the Hall exploded with sound.
Thousands of whispers fused into one voice:
"FOUND."
The floor shook. The crystals trembled violently.
The Elders recoiled.
The sphere in the Elder's hand spasmed, cracked—then shattered like glass, scattering fragments of light that vanished midair.
Silence swallowed the Hall.
The Elders exchanged alarmed glances. Even Liora looked stunned.
The silver-eyed Elder narrowed his gaze at Orion.
"…Impossible."
Another Elder—a woman with hair like drifting smoke—stepped forward, voice sharp.
"He carries an origin signature we have not seen since the Astral War."
A ripple of fear passed through the Elders.
Liora stiffened. "What does that mean? He was just a wanderer when I found him—lost and alone!"
The smoky-haired Elder shook her head."No. He is no wanderer. His soul… has crossed realms."
Orion's pulse thundered.
He spoke quietly, but the words came from somewhere deep inside:
"I died."
The Elders froze.
He took a breath, memories flickering—shadows of a past life he barely understood.
"I don't know how… or why… but I lived another life before this one."
The silver-eyed Elder whispered the words like a prophecy:
"A Reborn Soul."
The Hall of Echoes stirred violently. The crystals descended and hovered around Orion as if drawn to him—yet fearful.
Liora's eyes widened with both wonder and dread.
The Elders whispered urgently among themselves, until the silver-eyed one raised his hand for silence.
"Orion… your arrival may be the event the prophecies warned us about."
Orion swallowed. "What prophecy?"
The Elder's gaze hardened.
"The prophecy of the Starfallen King."
The crystals dimmed.
The air grew colder.
And for the first time since arriving in this world… Orion felt the weight of destiny tighten around his throat.