ECHOBURN

The wind had a smell.

That was the first warning.

For weeks, Aoto had wandered across scorched glass and bone, through ash-choked air and red skies that never moved. The silence was oppressive. Nothing smelled like life. Nothing even dared to try.

Until now.

The scent hit him like a memory he didn't have—a sweetness laced with soil and something ancient. Alive. Green. And... pulsing.

He stood at the lip of a cracked ravine. A chasm split the earth below, and down there, nestled between jagged walls of black stone, something glowed.

Green.

A soft, bioluminescent glow, like fungus or moss—but… breathing.

"This wasn't here yesterday."

He didn't remember sleeping.He didn't remember blinking.But the ravine was here now. And so was the light.

Aoto dropped in without thinking.

The fall wasn't far.But the landing felt... wrong.

He hit grass.

Not dead roots. Not shattered stone. Not dust or glass.Grass. Soft and cool. And alive.

The moment he stood up, the air changed.

Above him stretched a sky of gold, swirled with pale green clouds.The air was heavy with humidity and floral wind.Massive trees loomed in all directions, their trunks wide as temples, bark patterned with veins that glowed like fluid circuits.

Birds flew above—if you could call them birds. Their wings were too thin, and their shadows curved wrong.

The biome pulsed with perfect harmony. No decay. No ash. Just… breath.

"This place isn't part of the world."

*"It's something… separate."

He stepped forward.

Flowers turned toward him.The ground shifted slightly, like adjusting its weight.Leaves fluttered without wind.

Everything was watching.

He walked for what felt like hours. The sun didn't move. His wounds didn't ache. Even the hunger in his gut felt distant, like a memory trapped behind glass.

He was in a loop, he realized.

The moss curled in the same shape every time he passed that rock.The trees hummed the same note when he stepped over the glowing root.

And finally, after the third loop—he found it.

A staircase, overgrown with flowers that bowed at his feet.

Leading to a temple.

The structure rose like a seed that never stopped blooming—woven marble and living root, wrapped together like muscle and bone. Statues lined the outer wall. Some looked human. Others monstrous. One looked exactly like him, but half-dissolved.

He approached the open archway.

Inside, the scent was overwhelming—rose, rot, pollen, time.

"You finally made it," a voice said.

She stepped into view.

Her dress shimmered like moth wings. Her hair moved like it was still underwater. One eye was gold, the other a soft, glowing green—like the trees outside. And her smile… it was all teeth and patience.

"You weren't supposed to find this place," she said."But that's the point, isn't it?"

"You find what kills you. And you keep coming back."

Aoto didn't speak.

Her temple responded to her breath—the walls shifted as she moved. The vines curled tighter along the ceiling, opening massive pollen bulbs.Behind her, something in a glass dome twitched—a creature with too many joints.

"You're fascinating," she said, walking in a slow arc."No bloodline. No divinity. No classification. And yet—unerasable."

"You're not a man."

"You're a phenomenon."

He turned to leave.

And instantly found himself back inside the temple.

She smiled again, wider now.

"This is my biome," she whispered."And you're not going anywhere."

He drew a blade.

She laughed.

"Go ahead. Stab yourself."

He did.

He died.

He woke up.

Still in the same place.

Still in the garden.

"You don't respawn outside my system now," she said gently."You're inside me. I control the loop here."

"So… let's begin."

She waved a hand. The walls of the chamber changed.Stone became root. Root became glass. The room filled with light and slow, pulsing growth.

Machines made of vines hummed softly.Syringes made from bone floated beside her.

She smiled without cruelty.

"Let's see what you're made of, little echo."

"Let's study what keeps you coming back."

Aoto clenched his fist.

His body wouldn't save him here.His death wouldn't help him escape.His will… was all he had.

"You'll regret this."

"Oh," she said sweetly. "I hope not."

"I really, really hope not."