A silence settled over the battlefield, thick and suffocating. The entity’s words hung in the air like an unbroken echo, reverberating inside Echo’s skull.

Elliot.

The name felt foreign like a distant whisper from a life that wasn’t his. Yet, the way it rolled off the entity’s tongue, so certain, soabsolute, made his stomach churn.

Everyone was staring. The soldiers, the summoned undead, even the wraiths that hovered in the distance.

Who was this man?

And more importantly why didheknow a name that Echo himself did not?

The entity stepped forward, its movements eerily graceful. With every step, the ground beneath itcracked, unable to withstand its mere presence.

Echo forced himself to stand his ground, but his body screamed at him to run. His instincts, honed through battle and hardship, told him this wasn’t a foe he could simplyfight.

But that wasn’t what scared him.

Whatterrifiedhim down to his very core was the way the entity looked at him.

Like he already knew everything about him.

Like he had beenwaitingfor this moment.

"I am not an eternal being..." The entity’s voice was calm, almost gentle. "I’m just a human being."

Ahuman?

Echo’s mind recoiled. No human could dothis.

A simple human being couldn’t make the veryearthcrumble beneath his feet. Couldn’t make Echo’s chest feel like it was beingcrushedunder an unseen weight.

Yet there was no mockery in his voice. No deception.

It was simply the truth.

Echo swallowed hard, his throat dry. His heart hammered against his ribs.

Who the hell was this man?

A flicker of movement in the corner of his vision caught his attention.

Reyna.

Her face was pale, her golden eyes wide with something he rarely saw in herfear.

She was gripping the hilt of her blade so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her usual sharp, calculated demeanor had cracked, replaced by raw, unfiltered uncertainty.

"Echo..." she whispered, barely audible. "What is he talking about?"

He had no answer.

He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palm to ground himself.

"I... don’t know."

It wasn’t a lie. He reallydidn’t.

But the pounding in his skull, the twisting in his gut—his verysoul—told him that somethingwasn’t right.

Somethingwas missing.

And this man thisimpossibly powerful manknewwhat it was.

The entity chuckled, the sound sending chills down Echo’s spine.

"Oh, but you do know," he said softly. "You just refuse to remember."

Echo’s breath hitched.

And thenit happened again.

The flood of memories.

But this time, they weren’tvisions.

They weresensations.

The rough texture of stone beneath his fingertips.

The scent of old parchment and burning wood.

The weight of acrownresting upon his head.

A sharp pain in his chest

No,a blade.

Plunged deep into his heart.

His body hitting cold marble.

A voicehis voice screaming a name.

Not Echo.

Elliot.

The world snapped back into focus, and Echo staggered forward, gasping for air. His vision swam. His pulse thundered in his ears.

he feltutterly lost.

The entity watched him, his eyes unreadable.

"You remember now, don’t you?"

EchoElliot?shook his head violently.

"No." His voice was hoarse, trembling. "That’s not real. That’s not "

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to steady his breathing.

He wasn’t Elliot. Hecouldn’tbe.

He wasEcho.

The Necromancer. The man who had clawed his way to power. The man who commanded armies of the dead.

Not somefallen prince.

Not someghost from the past.

"I don’t know who you think I am," Echo snarled, forcing himself to meet the entity’s gaze. "But I am not Elliot."

For the first time since he appeared, the entity’s expression changed.

Hesighed.

Not in disappointment.

Not in frustration.

But in something that almostresembled sadness.

"Perhaps you’re not," he mused, tilting his head. "Or perhaps... you’re simply not ready to remember."

Echo opened his mouth to argue

But before he could

The entityvanished.

Not in a dramatic explosion. Not in a swirl of darkness.

One moment, he was there.

The next, he wasgone.

As if he had never existed in the first place.

A heavy silence followed.

Then

"Echo..." Reyna’s voice was tight. "What the hell just happened?"

He couldn’t answer her.

Not because he didn’t want to.

But becausehe didn’t know.

He lifted a hand to his forehead, his skin clammy with sweat. His body still trembled.

The memories the sensations they were too vivid to be mere illusions.

And that man...

Thatimpossibly powerfulman...

Had called himElliot.

Echo’s jaw clenched.

He couldn’t afford to dwell on this now. Not when there were battles to fight. Not when the war had only just begun.

He shoved the doubt down, burying it deep within his mind.

He would deal with it later.

For now

"I don’t know," he finally said, his voice steadier than he felt. "But I intend to find out."

---

The battlefield was frozen in an eerie stillness. The remnants of Echo’s undead army stood motionless, their hollow eyes reflecting the weight of the moment. The living soldiers—his allies—watched in stunned silence. None dared to breathe, none dared to interrupt.

But EchoElliot?felt as though the world had caved in around him.

"I am from a distant future... from the planetEarth. The world I originally came from."

That nameEarthsent a jolt through his mind, like a rusted lock being forced open. A fragment of something long-buriedshiftedinside him.

The others looked at one another, confusion flashing across their faces.

"Earth?" Reyna muttered, frowning. "That name sounds... unnatural."

But to Echo, it was anything but. Itwasfamiliar.

The syllables, the weight of the word in his mind itmeant something.

Somethingold.

Something heshouldn’tremember.

His heartbeat quickened.

The entity watched him carefully, his piercing gaze unwavering. Then he continued, his voice calm yet carrying the weight ofabsolute certainty.

"In the future, we have reached a point where we are no longer merely human... we have broken the very laws of existence, creatingsystemsthat mimic the stories you once read."

A sharp pain lanced through Echo’s skull. He inhaled sharply, fingers instinctively pressing against his temple.

Systems.

Stories.

That wordsystemsit meant something.

More than that it feltpersonal.

Flashes of informationslammedinto his mind like a tidal wave.

A glowing screen.

Words appearing out of thin air.

A voice mechanical, robotic calling out to him.

[Welcome, Host.]

He staggered back a step, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

His head wassplittingopen.

Memories, long sealed away,crackedlike fractured glass, letting fragments of the past bleed through.

Earth.

A planet filled with towering buildings, glowing signs, endless noise.

His hands on a keyboard, a screen flashing before him.

He had been there.

He had lived there.

Hadn’t he?

Echo’s Fractured Reality

Reyna stepped closer, her golden eyes narrowing.

"Echo."

Her voice was steady, but there was a sharpness to it—concern buried beneath her usual control.

"What’s wrong?"

Echo forced himself to stand upright. His hands trembled at his sides, his breath unsteady.

What was he supposed to say?

That he was rememberinganother life?

That his veryexistencewas being rewritten in real-time?

No he couldn’t. Not now.

Not here.

He clenched his fists, pushing the storm of memories to the back of his mind.

Focus.

The entity smilednot cruelly, but knowingly.

"And you... you were the first host of theIntergalactic Transportation Systemwe created."

Silence.

Then

Boom.

His mindexploded.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com