The bell had rung, and silence followed.
Not peace. Not safety. Just the kind of silence that pressed against the skin like damp cloth—suffocating and real.
Jay stood outside the church long after the sound had faded. The fog had not returned that night. The sky above shimmered with unnatural cracks, like invisible hands had clawed at the heavens and left scratches that glowed faintly blue. People had started to remember. A woman at the market stared into her empty hands, sobbing as if something precious had slipped through her fingers. A man locked himself in his home and screamed names until his voice was hoarse.
Children whispered Jonah’s name, even though no one had told them.
Jay’s hand hovered over the inn’s quest board, which now sparked with static. New letters crawled across its surface like burning script:
ECHO 3: THE ONE WHO STAYED
She remembered when they forgot. She broke the loop. The system erased her.
Find Ada. Or what’s left of her.
“Ada,” Jay whispered.
That name had echoed in his thoughts ever since the mural changed. A girl in a red cloak. Not Jonah. Not another victim. Someone else. Someone like him.
The board glitched and flashed the message again. Three times. As if it didn’t trust itself to be remembered.
Inside his room, 000 flickered to life on the mirror.
“System 000... rebooting,” the voice said, broken and blurred. “Warning: Memory Collision Detected.”
Then, static.
But for a moment, Jay saw something else—reflected in the mirror not as himself, but as a girl. His coat. Her face.
Ada.
***
The next day, Jay found a house at the edge of town that hadn't been there yesterday. A small white cottage with wilted flowers by the steps. It looked like it had been abandoned for years and yet untouched by time.
Inside, he found sketches pinned to the walls—of townspeople, children, the church, even the sky—each labeled with dates that did not exist in his quest logs.
There was a journal on the desk.
Cycle 2087: They forgot again. The system reloaded. But I didn’t. Not this time.
000 says I’m a bug, but he’s wrong. I’m the backup.
If they find me, they’ll erase me. So I left echoes.
Next to the journal: a cracked mirror.
Jay touched it.
His reflection vanished. In its place: Ada.
She looked tired. Her eyes were full of something ancient. Sorrow? Hope? It was hard to tell.
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” she said softly.
“Then why am I?” Jay asked.
“Because I left a door open,” she replied. “And you were the only one who didn’t lock it behind you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. If you choose to.”
“What happens if I find the last echo?”
Ada looked away. “The game ends. For real. And not everyone wants that.”
The mirror cracked.
***
That night, Jay sat at the edge of the fountain. Or where it used to be. In its place now was a dry circle of stone, carved with three names: Jonah, Ada, and a blank line.
000 buzzed softly in his ear.
“She gave her name... for you.”
Jay turned.
A child stood there. Not Jonah. Not Ada. A different one.
A girl holding a small bronze bell.
“You forgot me too, didn’t you?” she asked.
The bell in her hand didn’t ring. But Jay felt it echo all the same.
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