Chapter 96: Echoes and Eyes
—We Were Not Ready—
"It was supposed to be just a fight between two High Soulbornes…"
That was what Karen Lockwood kept thinking.
She stood in the west courtyard of Soul Academy, the cracked sky above still bleeding faint flickers of black lightning from the days-old clash.
Even now, she could hear the whispers.
Students. Instructors. Ground agents.
Everyone trying to name what they had seen.
But no one had words for what it meant to witness the return of the First Shadow.
Karen rubbed her palms together, soul energy flickering faintly around her fingertips.
She wasn't shaking. Not quite.
But the world was heavier now.
Behind her, Jim sat on the stone bench, his usual confidence dulled.
"I read about Kamharida once," he muttered. "I thought it was myth."
"It's not," Cassandra said, stepping forward. Her hair was tied back in a loose braid, her aura faint and guarded.
"She was real. Is real. My grandmother used to talk about her… in those strange, quiet ways elders do when they want to say more but won't."
Leslie looked up from her soul notes, half-burned at the edges from recent training.
"She didn't say a single threatening word. But even Dean Elandra kept her hands behind her back the whole time. Not once did she speak out of turn."
"Because she didn't need to," Marie murmured. "She doesn't stand above the system. She predates it."
Joshua hadn't spoken.
Not since they started this conversation.
He stood apart, leaning on the old guard rail that overlooked the training grounds.
His eyes were on the skyline. Not quite focused. Not quite lost.
Finally—
"She's not here to attack us."
He said it softly.
"But someone's going to make the mistake of thinking she is."
They all looked at him.
He didn't flinch.
"And if the Veil is bold enough to walk into the Council and speak her name aloud… they've already begun preparing countermeasures."
Karen frowned. "What kind of countermeasure could match her?"
Joshua didn't answer.
But deep down, a shiver curled up his spine.
---
Elsewhere…
Below. Beneath. Between.
They unsealed the tomb.
It wasn't stone.
Not metal.
It was memory—a suspended prison of soul, blood, and oblivion.
It had no shape to the waking world.
It pulsed like a bruise under the skin of reality.
And now, it opened.
Mirex stood before it, arms spread, the council behind him.
No chants.
No rituals.
Just consent.
A decision made.
The wall of soulflame parted—hissing like forgotten breath.
From within, came a scream.
Not loud.
Not violent.
Just impossibly old.
A cry layered with grief and fury so deep it twisted the very structure of the Veil's chamber.
And then—he stepped out.
Tall. Silent. Shackled.
Chains of soul-forged blackness wrapped his limbs. His eyes burned like coals wet with tears. His aura wasn't vast—it was hollow.
The Phantom.
Created once by Soul Energy gone rogue.
Too unstable. Too conscious. Too emotional to be kept.
He had loved the Progenitor once.
Had tried to become her equal.
And been cast into the abyss for what it cost the world.
Now—
He was theirs.
Reawakened.
Not loyal.
But useful.
Mirex stepped forward.
"Kamharida walks again. We need a shadow to meet a shadow."
The Phantom did not respond.
He simply stared through Mirex. Through the chamber. Through time.
And finally, whispered:
"If she breathes… then I still remember what it means to be alive."
---
Back on Soul Island...
Karen turned to Cassandra.
"Are we even in the same world anymore?"
Cassandra didn't answer.
But her grip tightened on her soulband.
Because no—
This wasn't the same world.
This was a world where history no longer slept.
Where the past had come home.
And where the old shadows had eyes again.
---