Zhan Lou stumbled into an ornate chamber, its grandeur carved meticulously by hand, situated deep within an underground cavernous space. The rough, damp walls of the cavern seemed to pulse as if alive, searching for sustenance. Flickering torches cast an eerie, dull yellow glow, their light barely penetrating the oppressive gloom. The air was thick with the overwhelming scent of incense and the coppery tang of blood, a nauseating mixture that clung to the back of the throat.

His robes were tattered, and fresh open wounds seeped with blood, darkening his already crimson attire. Zhan Lou's face was a mask of grief and rage. The Ashen Void Flame flickered weakly around his sword, mirroring his weakened body as he staggered toward the central dais, where a figure cloaked in shadow awaited.

Estelle Icron, the Echo Weaver, regarded Zhan Lou with cold, impassive ice-blue eyes. Her slender fingers traced intricate and incredibly quick patterns in the air, the ghostly threads of her power pulsing in the gloom.

"I gave you the tools, Zhan Lou," she said, her voice a whisper carried by the very air within the cavern. "It was your failure that led to this."

"My failure?" Zhan Lou's eyes blazed with fury. "Killion is dead! My brother, my blood, torn from me by that trash Azreal!"

He lunged forward, his hands twitching and writhing as he clamoured for Estelle Icron’s pale, slender throat, but she moved like a shadow, slipping from his grasp and delivering a stinging slap across his face. Zhan Lou reeled back, shocked.

"You dare?" Estelle Icron hissed, her eyes narrowing onto Zhan Lou’s rage-filled body. "You dare lay your failure at my feet? Do not speak of a bonded guardian, a slave, as if he was your brother. Your despicable family kept bonded guardians on a tight, painful leash; do not act as if he was anything more than a servant to you. If you existed within the echo, you would know true bonds."

She stepped forward, the air around her shimmering with barely restrained power. Zhan Lou felt his stature shrink in the face of her terrifying aura, his rage faltering before her icy wrath.

"I brought forth the Echo. I transmitted the power of the Ashen Void Flame into your soul, guided you in its usage," Estelle Icron said, each word laced with venom that seeped into Zhan Lou’s body. "And you squandered it, let yourself be beaten to an inch of your life. By that, ‘Trash.’ Don’t mock those you can’t contend with," her ice-cold eyes ripping through Zhan Lou’s heart.

Estelle Icron regarded him for a long, tense moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she extended a hand, threads of ice-cold Qi intertwining around her fingers.

"You shall have your chance, Zhan Lou," she said, her voice naught more than a whisper. "But know this, the next failure will be your last."

Zhan Lou looked up, his eyes pleading with desperate hope and yet hidden deep within was a seething hatred. I must agree with her. The hatred boiling within me must be pushed down. Once I’ve become a chosen echo, even she will have to obey my will. Zhan Lou’s mind firmed against the unbearable pressure before he resumed his role.

"I understand," he said, his voice trembling. "I will not fail again. Azreal will die screaming, I swear it in Killion's memory."

Estelle Icron nods, a slight smile playing at the corners of her lips. "See that you keep that promise, Zhan Lou. The Echoes of the Forsaken do not tolerate weakness."

She turns away, her form blurring into the shadows. "Go now. Lick your wounds and nurse your hatred. When the time is right, you will have your revenge."

I'm coming for you, Azreal, he thought, his inner voice bleeding pure hatred. And when I find you, you will beg for the mercy of death long before I grant it to you.

His laughter, cold and cruel, echoed through the rocky halls, a chilling cold sweeping through the cavernous base. It was a sound that spoke of a soul lost to darkness, a man consumed by the very powers he sought to wield.

~~~~~

In the depths of the hidden chamber, Estelle listened to the fading echoes of Zhan Lou's laughter, her dark eyes with a cold, calculating light. He failed to grab the one Kollik was interested in. A shame, the eyes of old are going to keep watching our movements.

She turned toward the dais, where a disc floated in dark black Qi. The disc had an etching that could not be discerned from any distance aside from the one who wielded it.

“Dear… you and your reckless desire to tear down the heavens.” Estelle’s expression darkens, a mix of pain and sorrow overwhelms her once icy demeanour. Her piercing icy blue eyes stare directly into the disc floating in a black Qi, “If I was offered the choice between sacrificing the world or you sacrificing yourself again, I would happily sacrifice this pathetic world. Your light was bright enough to illuminate even the darkest of nights.”

Estelle, shrouded in shadows, let out a heavy sigh. “Dear, you will have to wait a bit longer yet…” her whispers swirled within the cavernous chamber as her expression hardened.

Zhan Lou's steps were heavy as he walked down the rocky hallway, the walls glistening with damp, clear water. When he first arrived at the Chamber of Echoes over ten years ago, he was terrified of those who resided deep underground. Everything he was told about the Echoes of the Forsaken were described as monsters, beasts, night crawlers, and their unending desire for consumption and destruction. Yet he found those living within the Southern Chamber of Echoes to be welcoming yet exceedingly harsh, driven in their goals, ruthless, and most importantly, immensely powerful. Zhan Lou spent many nights pondering on why the group of people who offered him a guiding light during his darkest hours had become a ‘cult’.

During his youth, he would often hear stories of heroes who helped the heavens overcome calamities, heroes who gave their lives to ensure mortals could survive and prosper. The people of the Echoes of the Forsaken were the same as these heroes in his eyes. Men and women who fight for their belief that the heavens will be the true enemy of life and the original forsaken, the exiled prince of heaven was the hero he admired the most.

The story of the forsaken prince was a tale told by all the elders and most powerful members of the Echoes of the Forsaken. A story of a man who was cast aside by the very heavens who chose him as their hero. He cast away his youth and his life to fight against the Demonic Invasion, the Dwarven Heaven Splitter, the Elven Sunburner, and countless more calamities untold or heard of across the nine heavens.

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Estelle Icron, was one of the most feared names within the Echoes of the Forsaken, she is said to be one of the closest to the Exiled Prince while he was alive. Zhan Lou finds himself also pondering on why a cultivator with her reputation is forced to reside in the first heaven, the lowest of all heavens. Is it self punishment? A form of atonement for her self perceived failures?

Zhan gave up on attempting to decipher the background of the higher ups, dealing with the fact most of this information will never be known to a lowly provisional echo such as himself.

Zhan shudders at the thought of her icy wrath and her clear discontentment for anyone other than the one she called ‘dear’. A fear within Zhan surged as he thought of the first time he witnessed Estelle crush a peak Martial King's throat with one hand and curse the Martial King's Sect, Fist of the Immortals, to be extinguished from existence.

Zhan Lou stood over fifty miles from the battle with other youths of the Forsaken Echoes, this was the initiation, the first step to becoming a key member, to watch a fight of the chamber master and stay conscious. In the time it took to blink, the heavens seemed to split apart, and a small army of cultivators spilled out of the sky.

Which was shocking, but soon a new fear ran through his heart, as within less than three breaths, the Fist of the Immortals, which had over two thousand disciples and elders, was wiped from the first heaven. The only indication that there was ever a Sect standing there was the burn marks and barren land in the shape of buildings.

A shiver ran up his spine before he continued to walk through the underground pathways. He had donned a new cloak which covered his face and hid his battered body from those he walked past. Small pleasantries were exchanged with some, while others completely ignored his existence. For the moment, Zhan Lou was too small a fish to attract any interest from the higher-ups or those who held extreme power.

“Power is everything in this world, and for the Forsaken, I will tear the world apart,” Zhan Lou muttered to himself as he retrieved a large bronze key. He raised his head as he entered a dimly lit carved room. A single sconce hung above a large wooden table. Atop the table sat a thick, weathered tome. Next to the tome was a leather tool pouch, splayed out with knives, clamps, saws, and small vials.

This is just a part of the job. The more information I can get, the quicker this will be over. Zhan Lou sighed as he reached down, picking up the red vial and bringing it close to his eyes.

“This little guy is best for big men such as yourself,” Zhan Lou turned to a cell door at the other end of the room. The bars were made of dark red metal. Inside, a man covered in scars and looking malnourished was chained.

“In certain parts of this heaven, they call this little guy the Skin Scorcher, or where I come from, we simply named him the Devourer.” The man, whose every limb was chained to the wall with only a foot of length in each chain, reacted violently to Zhan Lou’s words, his large frame and dejected, lifeless expression turning sour as he attempted to escape.

“Oh, come now, you’ve been here for over a week now. You know better than that.” Zhan Lou turned as he ran his hand across the bars before injecting a small wisp of Qi into the bronze key and unlocking the cell. The bars of the door faded out of reality as Zhan Lou stepped forward. “Darian, Darian, Darian… Just tell me everything you know about Grand Elder Lu and that friend of yours, Azreal. If you do, this won't hurt too much…” He stepped forward and placed his hand atop Darian’s head, small parts of his hair falling out as he squeezed his skull.

Darian barely managed to urk out, “Fuck you, I knew you were born from a disgusting bloodline.” Zhan Lou laughed maniacally as he stared down at Darian’s weak body. “You did this to yourself, Darian. I gave you a way out and your pride got you continuously tortured.” Zhan Lou took the vial and removed the top before placing the open vial onto Darian's skin. Zhan began to channel his fire Qi into the bottom of the glass, causing the Devourer to begin consuming Darian’s flesh rapidly to escape.

Zhan Lou watched with a mixture of focused determination and regret as the Devourer burrowed into Darian’s flesh. The man's screams echoed off the walls, blending with the eerie feel of the cell. Blood pooled at his feet, and the scent of burnt flesh mixed with the coppery tang already thick in the air.

"Just tell me what I want to know, Darian," Zhan Lou said, his voice a mockery of compassion. "Save yourself from this agony."

Darian's response was a choked gasp, his eyes wild with pain and defiance. "I... will... never..."

Zhan Lou's smile widened, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Stubborn to the end. Very well, let's see how much more you can take."

The Devourer continued its work, and Darian's screams grew weaker, his body trembling as he fought to remain conscious. Zhan Lou's patience was endless; he had perfected the art of drawing out agony to break even the strongest wills.

"Grand Elder Lu," Zhan Lou mused, his tone almost conversational. "He's a formidable figure, isn't he? But everyone has a weakness. Tell me, Darian, what does he fear? What would make him vulnerable?"

Darian's head lolled to the side, his chest heaving as each breath is a mixture of pain and desperation. He clung to his defiance, the memory of his friends and his duty to them his only hope in the darkness of this cave.

Zhan Lou's expression darkened. "You're running out of time, Darian. The Devourer won't stop until there's nothing left of you. Speak, and I might show you mercy."

Darian's lips moved, but no sound came out. His eyes locked onto Zhan Lou's, filled with a mixture of hatred and defiance. Zhan Lou watched, fascinated, as the light in Darian's eyes began to fade.

With a final, desperate surge of strength, Darian spat out a single word. "Never."

Zhan Lou's expression twisted into one of fury. "So be it."

He stepped back, watching as the Soul Eater consumed Darian’s flesh, bringing him to the edge of death. Fuck, I can’t let him die, I havent found anything. Zhan Lou moves with nimble hands, using his Qi to subdue the devourer and place it back inside the vial.

Darian had passed out from the pain as his body slumped against the ground.

The chamber fell silent, the only sound the faint dripping of blood onto the stone floor.

Zhan Lou felt a strange mixture of triumph and frustration. He had not gotten the information he sought, but he had proven a point. He knew that no one could withstand his methods indefinitely.

He turned away from the limp body of Darian, a man from a noble lineage who he knew did not deserve this treatment, but the Forsaken Echoes demand the fight against the heavens will be fought at any cost. His thoughts are already shifting to his next move. Azreal and Grand Elder Lu would pay for their defiance. He would see to it personally, so his training must begin in earnest.

As he walked down the rocky hallway, the walls seemed to close in around him, the weight of his mission pressing heavily on his shoulders. The Echoes of the Forsaken demanded results, and he would not fail them.

In the dimly lit carved room, Zhan Lou paused, his eyes scanning the array of tools and vials. He knew that the path ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but he relished the challenge.

Power was everything in this world, and he would tear it apart to achieve his goals. With a final glance at Darian's broken body, Zhan Lou steeled himself for the trials to come.

"Azreal," he muttered, his voice filled with venom. "Your time is running out."

The darkness of the cavern seemed to close in around him as he prepared to leave, the echoes of his laughter lingering in the air. In the depths of the hidden chamber, Estelle Icron listened, her dark eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating light.

"Dear... you will have to wait a bit longer yet," she whispered, her voice a chilling promise.

The chamber fell silent once more, the oppressive gloom a fitting backdrop for the traitorous and evil deeds committed. Zhan Lou's footsteps echoed through the rocky corridors as he made his way back to the surface, his mind consumed with thoughts of vengeance and power.

In the distance, the faint sound of dripping water was the only indication that life continued in the depths of the cavern. But for Zhan Lou, there was only one purpose: to destroy those who had wronged him and claim his place as a chosen among the Echoes of the Forsaken.

End of Book 1