The apartment was dim except for the dull glow of Lust Ring's neon bleeding through the balcony door.
The city outside murmured like a restless beast that newer sleps, but inside the air was still.
Focused.
Waiting.
Malerion sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes half-open, one hand pressed lightly over his chest where the two Echo Rings pulsed with quiet, uneven rhythm.
Alastor materialized in the soul-space with a flicker of static.
"Well then," he said, voice smooth. "Shall we begin?"
Malerion didn't respond immediately.
He studied the faint ripples moving through the First Ring the ordered, stable frequencies gently rotating like a disc of light.
He studied the Second Ring the fractured one still growing, still unstable, still raw.
"Something changed," Malerion said softly. "After the fight."
"Yes," Alastor replied. "You crossed the threshold from theory into practice. And practice shapes resonance."
Malerion exhaled slowly.
"So now we name them?"
"Yes," Alastor said. "Technologies require names. Powers require names. Techniques require names.
Not because names matter to the world"
He tapped Malerion's chest.
"but because names stabilize intention."
A pulse traveled through the rings in response.
Malerion looked up.
Start with the first?
Alastor nodded.
1. THE FIRST TECHNIQUE the accidental one
The subtle pulse that interrupted motion.
A tiny jolt of sound that hit the inner ear of the attacker.
In the soul-space, Alastor rewound the moment like a memory made of static.
"You shifted the surrounding air just enough to cause disorientation," he narrated. "This wasn't power. This was physics… guided by soul instability."
Malerion nodded.
He remembered the feeling clearly:
a vibration behind the tongue,
a pressure in the lungs,
a release through the chest.
"Name it something simple," Alastor suggested. "Something describing what it does, not how it sounds."
Malerion closed his eyes, choosing carefully.
"…Echo Slip."
Alastor's smile sharpened.
"Perfect. A disruption without violence.
An interruption technique."
The First Ring responded with a smooth pulse
as if acknowledging the name.
2. THE SECOND TECHNIQUE the forward burst
The sharp, breath-powered vibration that staggered the demon.
Alastor replayed the moment.
"A directed tap," he said. "Not a strikemerely an amplified exhale turned into kinetic interruption."
Malerion frowned. "It felt like… puncturing the air."
"Then name it as such."
He thought again.
…Resonance Thrust.
Alastor raised a brow.
"More dramatic than I expected, but accurate. Very well."
The Second Ring flickered, almost proud.
3. THE THIRD TECHNIQUE the instinctive one
The moment the demon pinned him
and the inner vibration erupted directly inside the attacker's mind.
Not outward.
Inward.
An internal disturbance.
"You didn't release sound," Alastor said softly. "You released resonance through contact. A defensive reaction, not an attack."
The soul-space darkened slightly.
"This technique came from fear," Alastor continued. "It is the first time the Rings acted… on their own."
Malerion swallowed.
He searched for a name that felt honest, not grand.
…Inner Echo.
Alastor nodded once.
"A defensive pulse that reverberates through whomever touches you. An excellent name."
The rings hummed in agreement.
Three techniques.
Three beginnings.
But this was only the surface.
Malerion looked up.
"You said we would explain how resonance works."
Alastor clasped his hands behind his back.
"Indeed."
He stepped forward, and the entire soul-space shifted into an image of Hell's SIN:
a swirling storm of red, pink, purple haze.
"In this world, SIN is not 'energy' not in the magical sense. It is emotional debris. Raw, unfiltered, chaotic psychological pressure."
He waved a hand. The haze vibrated.
"Demons feed on it. React to it. Produce it.
But SIN never stabilizes. Never structures.
It is entropy."
He pointed at Malerion.
"Except… inside you."
The Echo Rings appeared, bright and foreign against the haze.
"Because your soul refuses to accept chaos as-is," Alastor continued. "It organizes it. Rearranges it. Breaks it down, then reconstructs it."
The haze poured into the First Ring
and emerged as coherent waves of light.
"This process has no name in Hell. It does not exist here. But you your soul turn emotional chaos into structured vibration."
Malerion watched the transformation.
"So SIN becomes resonance."
"Yes," Alastor said. "SIN breaks things.
Resonance shapes things."
"Why does my soul do that?"
Alastor's expression deepened, almost curious.
"Because your soul was not forged under Hell's laws. Its structure is incompatible.
So rather than decay, it adapts by forcing Hell's chaos into order."
The soul-space dimmed, leaving only the two Rings glowing.
"That is why your techniques work," Alastor finished. "Resonance is physical. Real. Not mystical. Not divine. Not demonic. Just structured vibration."
Malerion exhaled.
It made sense.
Terrifying sense.
"And the Second Ring?" he asked quietly.
Alastor turned toward the fractured circle.
"That one," he said, voice dropping,
"is different."
"How?"
"It does not structure SIN."
A pause.
"It filters it."
Malerion frowned. "Filters?"
"Think of the First Ring as order," Alastor explained.
"And the Second Ring as selection."
He tapped the air.
"The First Ring takes in all SIN and makes it usable.
The Second Ring chooses what kind of SIN is worth converting."
Malerion stiffened.
"So each Ring will have a different function."
Alastor's smile spread wide.
"Oh yes."
He stepped back.
"You will not grow by leveling up. You will grow by expanding roles.
Each Ring is a function.
A tool.
A layer."
Malerion looked down.
"And the Third Ring?"
Alastor gave a low laugh.
"Patience. You barely survived stabilizing the second."
Silence hovered, peaceful and heavy.
Alastor's voice softened.
"Malerion… this is your path. Not mine. Not Hell's. Not Heaven's.
You are building a system no one has ever walked before."
Malerion traced the shapes of the Rings in thought.
Three names now existed in the world:
Echo Slip.
Resonance Thrust.
Inner Echo.
Three pieces of a system he didn't fully understand.
"And now," Alastor said, leaning closer, "we refine them."
The Rings pulsed in unison.
The path had begun.