Last Ember:ashes of the World

The Mist still churned around the Ruins of Oras, but the oppressive presence of the First Host had vanished. Jack stood under the spire's skeletal shadow, the aftermath of his battle still burning in his muscles, the taste of his own blood faint on his tongue. Yet deep inside him, something else stirred — not just the Echo, but a deeper connection to the Mist itself, like a frequency he was beginning to perceive.

> "He was testing me," Jack muttered to himself. "Measuring what I've become."

Veyne approached, his steps deliberate, his expression grave.

> "You survived the First Host's trial. That makes you rare — but not safe. You saw it yourself: the First Host is waiting for the door to open. But there's still time... if we move quickly."

Jack turned to him, breathing heavily. "What door? And where?"

Veyne's silver eyes glinted under the haze.

> "The Vault of the Echo — a facility buried beneath Oras. It was here, long before the Citadel existed. It's where the first humans tried to understand the Mist... and where they built something to fight it."

Lena frowned from nearby.

> "Then why has no one used it?"

Veyne's lips thinned.

> "Because everyone who goes down there dies. The Vault is alive. It remembers the pain of what was done to it."

Jack exchanged a look with Lena, then nodded.

> "Then that's where we're going."

Without another word, they moved — through streets that twisted like labyrinths, past buildings that shifted subtly when not watched, as though the city itself was reshaping behind their backs. Veyne led them to a collapsed metro station, its entrance cracked open like a gaping mouth.

The air grew colder as they descended, Mist coalescing into thicker sheets until visibility dropped to mere meters. Their lights barely cut through the fog, and every shadow seemed to breathe.

> "This way," Veyne whispered, his voice cautious. "There's a gate down here... guarded."

> "Guarded by what?" Lena asked.

Veyne didn't answer. But soon, they all understood.

They emerged into a massive subterranean chamber — steel walls reinforced with alien alloys, lights flickering like dying stars. At the center stood a circular vault door, towering and marked with glyphs not of human origin.

But before the door stood the Sentinel.

It was once human — that much was clear. But now it was something else: a towering figure clad in segmented armor fused with Mist-grown tendrils, its head a helmet of fused metal and bone with no visible eyes. It held a massive cleaver-like blade, rusted yet sharp, and its breathing was mechanical — wet and ragged.

It turned toward them, sensing their presence.

> "No one... may enter," it croaked. The voice was like metal scraping on bone.

Veyne drew his weapon, a curved blade pulsing faintly with red light.

> "It was a volunteer once," Veyne whispered. "The first human designed to guard the Vault — bonded too deeply with the Mist to die. Now it kills anything that approaches."

Jack stepped forward, Echo already humming beneath his skin.

> "Then we'll free him."

The Sentinel charged with surprising speed, its cleaver crashing down with enough force to crack the steel floor. Jack dodged, the blade narrowly missing his skull, and countered with his dagger — but it skidded uselessly against the Sentinel's armored hide.

> "Its flesh is steel and memory," the Echo whispered. "You must strike its past."

> "What the hell does that mean?" Jack growled.

Veyne joined the fight, his blade slashing with precision, leaving glowing gashes that wept black mist. Lena fired from a distance, her shots sparking off the armor, but barely slowing it.

Jack focused, trying to feel what the Echo meant. As the Sentinel swung, he caught a glimpse — flashes of memories, like echoes vibrating within its body. He saw a face — a woman's face, soft and sad, whispering a name: "Elias."

> "Your name was Elias," Jack whispered aloud. "You chose this."

The Sentinel hesitated mid-swing, its body shuddering, the Mist around it flickering.

Jack pressed the advantage, pushing his Echo outward, not as a weapon, but as a voice.

> "You were human! You had a life! A family!"

For a moment, the Sentinel staggered — and Jack saw the man within: a figure slumped inside the armor, trapped, eyes hollow.

> "End... me..." the voice rasped from within the helm.

Jack didn't hesitate — he surged forward, channeling all the Echo's power into his blade, which glowed crimson. He drove it deep into the Sentinel's core, twisting hard.

The Sentinel froze, then collapsed with a final, rattling breath.

Silence returned.

Veyne approached, kneeling by the body.

> "He was the last true guardian. He's free now."

The vault door groaned, ancient mechanisms unlocking with a deep, grinding sound. Slowly, it began to open.

A breath of air, colder than death itself, swept out from within.

> "We're here," Veyne whispered. "The Vault of the Echo."

Inside was darkness — but within that darkness, machines pulsed faintly, and deeper still... something waited.

> "This place holds the truth of the Mist," Veyne said. "But it also holds the key to stopping the First Host... if we can survive what lies within."

Jack stepped through the threshold, the Mist parting around him.

> "Then let's find it."