Chapter 5: Echo’s Lesson

I sat on the soft glow of the Sanctuary floor, breathing heavily, still tasting the metallic tang of exertion in my mouth. My muscles burned in a good way — the kind of burn that told me I was alive, that I was changing.

“You have grown stronger,” Echo said, drifting nearby, its mist curling and folding over itself like smoke caught in sunlight. “But strength alone will not save you.”

I frowned. “Then what will? Speed? Reflexes? Weapons?”

Echo’s form shimmered, and its voice lowered, curling around my thoughts. “Foresight. Understanding. The ability to see the path before it twists into death.”

“Foresight?” I asked, incredulous. “You mean… precognition? I don’t have time for riddles, Echo. I need to survive!”

“Ah,” it said, voice like a whispering wind, “but riddles are the shape of truth. The mind will bend to what it seeks, but not to what it is told. Watch.”

The mist around it swirled, forming images in the Sanctuary. Scenes from my past life flickered before me — the faces of those I tried to save, the ones I had abandoned, the people I loved and left behind.

I swallowed hard. Memories I had tried to bury surged back with raw intensity:

• My friends, laughing, leaving me behind when the horde came.

• My family, ignoring my pleas, choosing comfort over loyalty.

• Him — the one who truly cared — standing alone as I ran to save others.

Pain shot through me, but now it was sharper, colder. I had felt it before, in life, but this… this was different. I wasn’t helpless anymore. I could see everything clearly, and for the first time, I understood why I had died.

“You see now,” Echo whispered, mist coiling around me like a shadowy embrace. “Your mistakes were never random. Your choices shaped the outcome. Remember this, Kiami Lynn: loyalty is a blade. Wield it carefully.”

I nodded slowly, heart pounding. The weight of my past life pressed down on me, but now I felt a flicker of control. Knowledge of my mistakes was power. I could anticipate betrayal. I could predict danger. I could survive.

“Good,” Echo said, voice curling like smoke through my ears. “But foresight is only useful if it moves the body. Strength, reflexes, cunning — these you now possess. The mind must lead them. Without that, even the fastest can fall.”

I clenched my fists, staring at the endless floor of the Sanctuary. “I won’t fail again. Not this time. I know what’s coming, and I’ll be ready.”

A faint smile seemed to pass through the swirling mist. “Excellent. But remember… even with knowledge, the world tests you in unexpected ways. Expect the unforeseen. Prepare for betrayal. And never forget the lesson of the first life: your heart is precious, but it is also fragile.”

I exhaled, letting the cold, hard clarity settle over me. The Kiami of my past life — the quiet, people-pleasing girl — was gone. In her place, something sharper had taken root: a survivor who would trust only what she could control, who would act decisively, and who would never, ever die alone.

“Then teach me more,” I whispered, my voice steady. “I want to understand everything. The System, the future, survival… I want it all.”

Echo’s eyes glimmered from the mist. “Patience, Kiami Lynn. One step at a time. The first lesson is clear: foresight without action is meaningless. The next step awaits.”

The interface pulsed before me. A new task appeared:

[Task: Gather basic survival supplies. Reward: Evolution Points + Inventory Expansion]

I swallowed hard. The first test in this new life had arrived. The apocalypse was coming, and I would be ready.