The scream would not leave his throat.
Miles clutched his chest the moment the [Echo] ended. The Queen's fury, her refusal, her punishment, the memory of the horror's words nestling around his – her – mind, it lingered within him like poison.
Her memories did not just play out in his mind. They were carved into him, haunting the spaces between each heartbeat.
He staggered backward in the dark ruins of the shattered throne room, the remains of the Queen's wraith and her [Card Soldiers] were long gone, dissolved into nothing, but something still lingered in there. A cold presence, invisible yet sharp as broken glass.
He coughed once, twice, then finally dropped to his knees.
"What in the major fuck even was that?" He whispered. His voice sounded distant, as though he was hearing it from underwater.
The [Echo] had felt like a prison, or worse.
Like a revelation.
He tried to steady his breath, staring blankly at the glowing lines that still hovered in the air:
