The Black Echo Novels & Stories

A brief description followed: *Former operative under the Black Echo Initiative. Thought dead twenty years ago after the Syndicate Massacre in Eastern Cone. Rumored to have resurfaced under private contract. Affiliations: Gaya (confirmed). Current alignment: Unknown. Capabilities: Unknown. Threat Level: High. Proceed with extreme caution.* Ryan leaned back in his chair, stunned. Black Echo? That was a ghost division – off-the-books operatives used for unsanctioned warfare and extraction. He hadn't seen that name in years.

"It’s your code. We recognize the encryption. It’s a derivative of the 'Black Ledger' you tried to run from the Tower." ​Julian smiled a slow, thin line that didn't reach his eyes. "The Black Ledger was a monologue. The Echo is a choir. I didn't build it, Damian. I simply... hummed the first note. The world did the rest." ​"You're directing it from here," I challenged. "How? You have no outside access. No devices."

“You didn’t destroy me. You tied yourself to me. Two halves of a single breath.” Her pulse jumped. “You mean we’re both trapped?” The Echo nodded once. “Until one of us breaks.” Aelin’s fingers curled into fists. “Then I’ll outlast you.” It laughed quietly, a sound too human to be comfortable. “You don’t even understand what you are.” “Then explain it.” The Echo stepped closer, mist swirling around its bare feet. “I am the first note before the song began. The hum the world forgot it was singing. You are the echo of that note, caught in flesh.”

Kim was still calm. “You do not understand Kim, I know Armaan, he can easily find what is black & what is white? I saw him just now and he is furious like a wounded lion. I am really afraid and don’t want to catch it. And why the hell he is not picking up the call.” Lake replied with an uneasy voice. Hearing her words Kim also felt a little uncomfortable in her heart as Armaan’s ability was known to all in Philadelphia, of course, she also knows who Armaan Lee was but still, she wants to play on a benefit of the doubt.

Flashback!! Third person’s pov Bridget sat in the dimly lit hospital room, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling the air. Her mother, once vibrant and full of life, lay frail on the bed, her skin pale against the white sheets. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor punctuated the silence, creating an unsettling soundtrack to the reality unfolding before them. Bridget’s father, Xavier, stood by the window, arms crossed, his face a mask of worry.

The voice was silky, oozing with humour and threat. Alexander’s breath seized in his throat. “Isabella.” Isabella went forward, the faint click of her boots on the concrete floor ringing in the solitude. She wore a black cloak clinging to her shape, raindrops falling from her dark hair. Clara’s gun was pulled in an instant, her hands firm. “Stay back,” she advised. Isabella cocked her head, her lips curving into a grin. “Oh, Clara, you’ve always been so dramatic. Put that toy down before you damage yourself.”

The cold dampness of the night clung to her skin and a shiver wracked her body. “It’s coming from behind my house,” Zephyra said into the phone, hearing another scream. Drawing the arrow back, she crept around the house. She made sure to keep the wall at her back. It was pitch black with the moon not full enough to cast much light. The motion detection lights snapped on, blinding Zephyra. She also dropped her phone somewhere.

When I woke up again, I found myself lying in an unfamiliar room. The lights were off. Only the cold moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the blurry figure sitting beside the bed. It was Silas. He sat on the carpet with his back against the bedframe, looking strangely lonely. [Why isn't she awake yet? The doctor said it was only emotional stress combined with low blood sugar, so why has she been unconscious this long? This is all my fault. I never should've let her meet Eve.]

The echoes are still there, waiting, and they’ll be louder than ever when we return. 🖤 Echoes of Ruin resumes January 1st.