The doors of the forge opened with a sound like breath — deep, resonant, alive.
Light flooded in.
Arin had almost forgotten what open space looked like. The forge had been stone, flame, and shadow for so long that the sudden bloom of color made him flinch.
The world outside wasn't what he expected.
He stood on a platform of floating rock suspended in a vast sky of shifting hues — gold near the horizon, fading into deep indigo at the edges. Fragments of land drifted in the air like shattered glass, each piece carrying remnants of structures: broken bridges, half-buried towers, and skeletal trees of silver bark.
Rivers of light flowed between them, tracing patterns like veins.
[Zone Unlocked: The Aether Reaches — Fragmented Plains of the First World.]
[Warning: Unstable environment. Gravity fluctuation detected.]
A warm wind swept past, carrying the scent of ozone and faint metal.
Arin stepped forward, boots crunching against crystalline dust. "It's beautiful," he murmured. "In a completely terrifying way."
Tera floated beside him, her form brighter in this open light. "This is the surface of the Forgotten World. What remains after the collapse of the Original Realm."
He turned slowly, eyes wide. "So this is… what's left of Elysium Nexus's oldest map?"
"Not exactly." She paused, her voice distant. "This isn't a playable zone. It was part of the Founders' Realm, sealed off before launch. You shouldn't even be here."
Arin frowned. "But the system opened the doors itself."
"Which means the Forge overrode standard access," she said. "Perhaps it remembers something the developers buried."
He gave a half-smile. "Guess we're already breaking the rules. Might as well keep going."
The path ahead shimmered faintly, light forming narrow bridges between floating stones. The pendant around his neck pulsed softly with each step — steady, rhythmic, like a heartbeat guiding him forward.
He reached a wider platform after a few minutes. In the center stood a massive anvil made of glass and gold, its surface reflecting not his face, but a dozen different versions of it — each older, younger, smiling, or grim.
[Event Triggered: Memory Mirage Detected.]
Before he could react, one of the reflections moved independently. It stepped out of the mirror and took shape — a figure in dark armor, holding a perfectly crafted sword.
His sword.
But sharper.
The reflection smirked. "Still trying to fix what you broke?"
Arin froze. "What—"
The copy lunged, faster than any monster he'd fought before. Arin barely brought up his shield in time; sparks flew, and the impact sent him staggering.
[Warning: Entity Classification — "Echo Fragment: Arin Vale (Past Self)."]
His own voice echoed from the enemy. "You're not supposed to be here. You gave up your edge when you picked up a hammer instead of a blade."
Arin's grip tightened on the Commander's Echo Blade. "Maybe. But I'm done chasing numbers."
The reflection laughed. "Then you'll always be weaker than me."
The two clashed — blade against blade, light against shadow. Arin wasn't as fast, but his strikes had weight, each swing guided by rhythm instead of fury. The forge's energy hummed through his arm, amplifying his timing.
When their weapons locked, Arin leaned forward. "You're just data," he hissed.
The echo smirked. "So are you."
A sharp twist — and Arin felt his balance slip. The reflection's sword came down — only to meet a burst of blue flame.
Tera appeared between them, her form flaring bright. "Enough!"
The echo froze mid-strike. For an instant, its eyes flickered — not rage now, but pain. Then the reflection shattered like glass, dissolving into light.
[Echo Fragment Assimilated.]
[Trait Acquired: "Battle Instinct (Fragmented)" — +5% reaction speed during active creation.]
Arin exhaled slowly. "So that's what the 'Echo of the Forgotten World' means…"
Tera's light dimmed as she hovered beside him. "Every creator leaves behind echoes. Not all of them are kind."
He looked at the empty air where the reflection vanished. "Guess I'll be meeting a few of my mistakes face-to-face, huh?"
"Perhaps," she said softly. "But you faced one without faltering. That matters."
He gave her a tired smile. "Then let's keep going. We've got a world to rebuild — and apparently, I've got a few ghosts to deal with."
They continued onward.
As they crossed the next floating bridge, the sky darkened slightly. In the distance, faint silhouettes moved — massive constructs shaped like armor without bodies, drifting between islands like guardians.
[Environmental Update: The Aether Reaches — Outer Fragments Detected.]
[Warning: Soul Disturbance Levels Increasing.]
Arin stopped at the edge of a cliff, looking out over the vast expanse.
"Tera," he said quietly, "do you think any of this is supposed to exist anymore?"
She took a long moment before answering. "No. But creation rarely obeys rules. When the First World fell, pieces of it resisted deletion. They persisted through memory — much like us."
"Then maybe we're not here to restore it," he murmured. "Maybe we're here to finish what it started."
She tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "That would make you more than a smith, Arin Vale."
He smiled faintly. "Then let's see if I can live up to the title."
As they descended a glowing staircase of light, the forge's connection pulsed in his pendant.
[Soulforge Update: Remote Resonance Detected.]
[Another Soulforge has awakened.]
Arin stopped cold. "Wait — another one?"
Tera's light flickered sharply. "That shouldn't be possible."
The system message expanded, and a name appeared — one that made Arin's breath catch.
[Forgemaster Detected: Seren Vale.]
He stared at the name, unable to speak. His sister.
Tera glanced at him. "You know this person?"
He swallowed hard. "Yeah. And if she's in the game… then I'm not the only one the forge remembers."
The wind rose around them, carrying the faint sound of hammers — distant, rhythmic, and heartbreakingly familiar.