Chapter 25: Echoes Beneath the Ridge
The council hall of Halcyon Ridge was half-cracked and poorly lit, yet filled with more tension than any fortified fortress Aiden had ever walked into. Men and women with grim faces crowded around the long table—Scouts, Wardens, System Awakened, researchers, and hardened survivors who no longer startled at thunder or monster screams.
Tonight, though, they were afraid.
Aiden stood at the head of the table, Kael beside him, both freshly returned from the valley. The air smelled of burnt wood and stale dust. A few emergency lanterns cast flickering shadows across the walls.
Elder Rowan, one of the few leaders Aiden respected, tapped her cane twice. "Aiden Cross," she said, voice steady despite her age. "You said something beneath the ridge awakened?"
A murmur went through the room.
Aiden didn't waste time. "Not awakened—responded. To me."
That single sentence dropped a heavy silence.
Rowan leaned forward. "Explain."
Aiden inhaled, steadying himself. "The Void inside me… reacted. Like a tuning fork hit by the same frequency. And something underground reacted back. A pulse of energy—Void energy."
One of the wardens, a broad-shouldered man in dented armor, narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying there's another Void-wielder down there?"
Kael answered, voice sharper than usual. "No. This wasn't a wielder. It wasn't a person. It was an entity."
Another ripple of unease.
Aiden pressed on. "The Void isn't just a power. Or a system quirk. It's tied to something deeper. Older."
Rowan's fingers tightened on her cane. "And it communicated with you?"
Aiden swallowed. "Yes. Or… recognized me. It said—"
He hesitated. Even repeating it felt wrong.
Kael stepped in, softer this time. "It said, 'At last… you return.'"
Gasps. A wince from someone near the wall. Several stares zeroed in on Aiden with sudden suspicion.
Draven, a thin man with silver hair and a scholar's eyes, raised his voice cautiously. "Return implies prior presence. Prior existence. Are we entertaining the possibility of… reincarnation linked to the Void?"
Aiden stiffened.
Rowan shot him a look. "This is no time for soft voices. Speak plainly."
Draven took a breath. "If the Void responded like it knew him, then Aiden's connection to it may be more than a System-given skill. It could be ancestral, cosmic, or tied to pre-System phenomena."
"We don't deal in fairy tales," growled the warden. "We deal in monsters and rifts."
Draven held his ground. "And what do you think the Void is? A house pet?"
Rowan lifted a hand, silencing both. She studied Aiden with sharp, ancient eyes.
"What did you feel?" she asked softly.
Aiden met her gaze. "Like something that had been sleeping… woke up because I was near."
"And it was beneath us," Rowan murmured. "Beneath the ridge we chose as a refuge."
Aiden could see the calculations forming in her mind—threat assessment, defense adjustments, evacuation scenarios.
"I don't think it's immediately hostile," Aiden said quickly. "If it wanted to attack, it had a perfect chance."
Kael nodded. "It touched him. Didn't hurt him. Didn't hurt any of us."
Rowan frowned. "That doesn't mean safety. Curiosity can be as dangerous as aggression."
A scout in the back raised a hand timidly. "What if it's… another Leviathan? But dormant?"
"No," Aiden said instantly. He didn't know how he knew—but he did. "It wasn't a monster."
"Then what?" Rowan whispered.
Aiden hesitated.
Kael watched him carefully. Others stared with apprehension or dawning fear.
Aiden finally said, "I think it's part of whatever created the Void."
The hall erupted.
Voices exploded in all directions.
"Impossible—"
"Then the System—"
"Does that mean he's—"
"Are we standing on a cosmic bomb?!"
Rowan struck her cane once—hard—sending a shock of authority through the hall. The noise died instantly.
She turned to Aiden again. "What do you propose we do?"
Aiden looked around at them—the tired, traumatized people who were relying on him more than they understood.
"We can't run," he said. "We can't fight something we don't understand. And we can't ignore something that recognizes me."
Rowan's brow furrowed. "So?"
"So… we go down there," Aiden said quietly. "We investigate it directly."
Rowan stared long and hard. "You want to approach a Void entity that knows you intimately enough to greet your return."
Aiden didn't flinch. "Yes."
Kael smirked faintly. "Well, I'm definitely not letting him go alone."
"Nor should you," Rowan said. "But this isn't a two-man expedition."
She looked around the room. "I'll assemble a specialized team. Scouts, awakened, researchers, frontliners. We go at dawn."
Aiden nodded. "I want to go sooner."
Rowan shot him a cold look. "And I want a world without monsters, young man. But we deal with reality."
Aiden didn't argue.
Because even though the entity didn't feel hostile, the Void inside him was restless—agitated, pulsing steadily through his limbs like a faint heartbeat trying to sync with the one beneath the earth.
Rowan dismissed the room. People filtered out quickly, avoiding Aiden's gaze.
Kael stayed.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You okay?"
Aiden didn't answer immediately.
Kael nudged him. "Aiden."
"I don't know," Aiden admitted. "When that thing spoke—if you can call it speaking—it felt like… familiarity."
Kael exhaled. "What if it's right?"
Aiden turned sharply. "Right about what?"
"That you're returning." Kael's voice dropped. "Like you've been part of the Void before."
Aiden's throat tightened. "I don't believe in destiny."
"Good," Kael said. "Because regardless of what the Void thinks you are, you're Aiden Cross. The stubborn idiot who saved my life twice and annoys me constantly."
Aiden said nothing.
Kael continued, voice firm. "You're not property of some cosmic force. If it tries to claim you, I'll stab it."
Aiden gave him a flat look. "You can't stab a Void entity."
Kael shrugged. "I can try."
Aiden finally cracked a thin smile.
Kael returned it.
Then—something shifted in the air.
A chill swept through the hall, causing every candle to flicker.
Aiden froze.
Kael tensed instantly. "What now?"
A distortion shimmered in front of Aiden's hand—small, subtle, like heatwaves over asphalt.
Then—
A thin thread of black, swirling mist rose from his palm.
Aiden's heart lurched.
The Void.
But this wasn't him summoning it.
It was summoning itself.
The mist coiled upward, twisting, almost forming a shape—
—then snapped into a thin line that pointed toward the floor.
Kael blinked. "Uh… Aiden?"
"I'm not doing this," Aiden said quickly.
The line pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then the mist collapsed.
A soft tremor shook the floor, so faint it was barely noticeable.
But Aiden felt it clearly.
The heartbeat beneath the earth was syncing… again.
Kael cursed softly. "It's calling you again, isn't it?"
Aiden closed his eyes. "Yes."
Kael straightened and cracked his knuckles. "Well. Dawn is too far away."
Aiden opened his eyes. "Kael—"
"We're going tonight," Kael said. "Right now. With or without the council."
Aiden hesitated only for a breath.
Because deep down, the truth was undeniable:
The Void wasn't waiting for dawn.
And neither could he.
"Alright," Aiden whispered. "We go now."
Kael grinned. "Good. I'll grab gear. Meet at the ridge in ten."
Aiden nodded, but as Kael walked off, Aiden remained still for a moment longer.
Because even now, the whisper from earlier echoed faintly in his mind—
At last… you return.
And though Aiden wanted to deny it—
A part of him feared the entity wasn't mistaken.
A part of him feared the Void was remembering what he had forgotten.
And the deeper they went beneath the ridge…
The more likely he was to learn the truth he wasn't ready for.