Chapter Text

Part 1

Prologue: The End.

It was a hell of a way to die. Well that’s not quite accurate, it was actually much more complicated than just dying. It was more like being killed by accident, having a friend and his sister try to do the right thing and bring you back, then end up joining you in your body. Then you get kicked out of it by an unforeseen third entity that fused with the two of them to create a fourth, completely new person, and trap you in a mirror. Rather specific, huh? But yeah, that’s what happened to me.

Look, I don’t blame the Colonel, the man who killed me; it was an accident and he genuinely felt remorseful for it. I mean, he sat and watched my body all night, regretting his actions. And I don’t blame Damien or Celine for this... Dark thing stealing my body from me. Hell, I don’t even blame the guy who invited me to his mansion and set this whole thing off. Mark was his name, an actor I’d spoken briefly with during the divorce he’d had with Celine. Of course, that’s when I was the DA, not just a useless ghost trapped in a broken mirror.

No, I blame the Dark Entity, who I’m just going to call Dark. It was one of two entities who made Mark bring everyone around for this big farce of a poker night. The plan was set so Mark could get revenge on the Colonel for ‘stealing his wife’. Everything spiraled out of control when his body was found very, very dead the next day. Then it disappeared and things only got worse. Don’t get me wrong, I was still very much mad at him, but that was the illogical side talking. Hell, maybe even some residual evil that Dark had left when he stole my body. God, how Damien and Celine must feel, trapped and fused into that monster.

But that’s not the story I’m trying to tell. No one cares about my ‘woe-is-me’ rambling. The interesting part of my death came several years after the fact.

People came and went from the mansion, but none stayed long. My prison was moved to the attic and hidden away. I guess they could somewhat see me in that long, cracked, rectangular prison, and God knows I could see them. I pleaded for help for years, unable to hear my own voice, yet no one else seemed to ever hear me either. Some looked around, like looking for a voice they barely heard, but no one seemed to ever notice me. I felt a pang of remorse every time someone tried to see me or hear me, a wish to be alive again and a regret that they had to deal with me. But my life was done, and for years I was just another scary part of a scary house that people hated staying in.

One fateful night, though, an earthquake shook the house and my mirror fell from its perch on top of a large flat-topped wardrobe. I’d long since given up caring by that point, so neither the shaking nor the fall fazed me, but being broken is quite the wake up call. The frame of my mirror remained decently intact, since it was a very sturdy ornate wooden piece, but the already-cracked glass holding my soul, on the other hand, shattered upon collision. I won’t describe what it’s like, since to be honest, I really can’t. Not for a lack of trying; I’ve been racking my brain ever since to find the words.

But when I was shaken from my apathy, all was dark around me. However, it wasn't how it had been at night with the sheet over my only view to the outside world. It was more like the darkness behind eyelids while sleeping. No, that’s not quite it either; it was closer to sleep paralysis. The feeling like you’re supposed to be able to move but can’t and all you see is an oppressive black expanse of nothing. I’d grown so used to being an inanimate object that this new feeling was... wrong. It was so very wrong to my sensory-deprived mind. In this new state, I could feel again, but not like I had while alive. It was ethereal. The sort of half-feeling, half-imagined-feeling sensation you sometimes get while dreaming.

I’m not proud to admit I panicked. I felt some semblance of the bullet that killed me and the broken neck I’d received upon falling over the second floor banister. It was faded and dull, barely teasing at the edges of my awareness. That’s about when I tried to scream. I’d done so before in vain, so not hearing my own voice was a welcome reprieve. What I didn’t expect was a deep, multi-layered, masculine voice to respond.

“So I see you’ve managed to free yourself,” it taunted, “It’s been a long time. I’m honestly amazed you were able to get free at all.”

I swore I knew the voice. It sounded like my friend Damien, but there was none of the warmth with which he’d always spoken. It also sounded like Mark, but it lacked the jovial laughter I’d come to know from him. Not only that, but it sounded like the Colonel only saner, suaver, and calmer. There was only one person who could own that multi-tiered voice. It had to be Dark. It had to be the bastard who took my friends’ souls and kicked me out of my broken body.

A spike of anger flushed through me, cutting through the panic. I searched the nothingness around me in vain, silently demanding him to show himself.

“No, not yet. You don’t get to see me yet. Though, I do suppose I should... thank you. Without you trusting your ‘friends’, I wouldn’t be here. So how about I give you a choice? You deserve at least that much.”

About then, I noticed an excruciatingly high pitched ringing filling my awareness. I tried to block it out, but no amount of willpower I applied so much as dulled it. After what seemed like forever to my fatigued mind, I figured I’d humor him and ask what choices I had, if only to get rid of the ringing.

“I could set you free of this place, give you a new body and a new life. Or, I could bring you back to me and give you your body back. Better yet, I could even give you your friends back! Or you can stay here. It’s up to you.”

Well, that didn’t work like I’d hoped; the ringing was still there and I could feel his smugness. He wasn’t really giving me choices here. No matter what I chose I played into his hand. Every option came with a price I wouldn’t be able to pay. Or a price someone else would have to pay.

It was true I missed Damien a lot; he’d been one of my closest friends all throughout university, and he was the only one who wanted to help me in the mansion when things went tits up. Hell, he was the only one who really wanted to help me after I’d died. But I still couldn’t bring myself to trust Dark. There was an undertone to his echoing voice that mercilessly mocked me. I’d heard it before when Celine and Damien asked me to trust them and let them in when I’d been killed, and I wasn’t going to trust that intonation again.

So I chose none of them.

“Is that so? Well, you have to make a choice at some point. You can’t choose to stay here and choose to leave,” he said, sounding equal parts amused and frustrated. “Not making a choice is still choosing, after all. I am in control here. I own this place.”

I didn’t care what he said. I wasn’t going to trust him again; I knew better now. I knew better because he’d taken my friends, my life, my body from me. He wasn’t going to take what was left.

“And how do you intend to take back control? You don’t have a body, and you’re so broken that you’re barely a soul.”

Well, I sure as shit wasn’t going to take a body from someone else. Nor was I going to merge with two other souls to become whole as he had. I’d figure something out one way or another.

“You’re so faded you barely exist, and yet you think you can just… Defy me? No. Take one of my offers. It’ll be better for you.”

I’d rather fade away. I knew if I chose any of his options, it’d give him more power and put the world in greater danger than it already was. I’d rather be torn apart and out of his reach than give him any modicum of power. As I continued to defy him, I slowly became aware of color in the blackness. Blue and red. The colors Damien and Celine had had before... Before I’d been reduced to this. I wanted to call out to them, I tried to, but my call was answered by Dark laughing softly.

“They’re not here anymore. They’re me, but I’m not them. You do know that, don’t you?”

I demanded he let them go.

“And then what? You want me to simply stop existing? I don’t think so. But if you’re so dead set on getting them back, I could–”

I stopped him there with an absolute negative. No, I was going to get them back on my own, even if I had to destroy myself to destroy him.

“And just how would you do that?” He asked with amusement, but I could tell that I was getting on his nerves.

In an instant he was before me, just as he’d been when he trapped me in that God-forsaken mirror. Looking like Damien, but not. Red and blue outlining him in chromatic aberrations, blackness under and in his eyes, and an aura that would’ve left me unable to breathe if he hadn’t stolen my lungs. A cruel, almost angry smile graced his face and he stretched and cracked his… no, my broken neck, the sound pierced the darkness in a dichotomy that was as jarring as his duotone appearance. I heard the bones snap and the cartilage crackle and would have winced if not for the lack of a face. It was as disgusting as the rest of him.

I made sure he knew what he could do with himself. He’d already put too many lives at risk and taken far too many more. I wasn’t about to feed his power. I’d become the district attorney to protect my city and make things right, and even though I was dead, I was still going to try. I wasn’t going to let him take my soul.

His sarcastic smile turned to a sneer and he laughed sardonically.

“You don’t seem to quite get it, you are a soul. Well you had been, now you’re just a Faded Echo. But tell me, how would you protect anyone? Amuse me.”

I faltered, unable to come up with anything. I really didn’t know how I’d do anything at all.

“With inner strength and light.”

I started at the sudden voice, shaken to my core. I searched for the origin of the unexpected words, but all I saw was Dark and the empty surroundings, yet I felt–. Wait. I felt! I could feel! Yes, there was the pain: echoes from the bullet in my heart, crackling reminders of my broken neck. Plus, there were my tired eyes, something I was unfamiliar with... But it was a sense of being whole, complete. As though the parts of me that had died or been taken were coming back. I was being pulled back together! But by what? Who was doing this?

“Damien and Celine were right, you are special,” the unfamiliar voice addressed me, devoid of malice and seemingly full of sincerity and a calming kindness. Was this God?

“Oh no, nothing like that. I am not The Creator. I work behind the scenes, using my power to protect the multiverse. You hold that same power, young Echo, if you truly have the strength to deny the darkness and the will to protect life.”

Dark looked around with an urgency borne of terror, which reflected in his eyes despite his attempts to hide it. A sudden feeling of reflection, of truly seeing things, made me realize that I was being given a choice as to whether or not to trust this voice; it wasn’t going to manipulate me into doing what it wanted. It was order and balance, light but also shadow. I sensed that Dark wanted the return of his near-complete control, to get rid of this inexplicable voice, this invisible light that somewhat banished the no longer ever-present darkness.

With everything happening all at once, my conviction rose. I wanted to protect those in my world, and if I held the power to do so as this voice claimed I did, I would absolutely do everything to unlock it.

“Don’t you dare!” Dark demanded, lunging towards me with his hands aimed at my... throat?

I wasn’t formless anymore? How and when did that happen? I didn’t have time to ponder it as I reacted instinctively, raising my hands to meet his.

“You’re strong, Faded One,” the Light encouraged, “It’s time to become whole again. I’ve catalyzed your revival, now resurrect yourself!”

Dark’s hands burned mine as we collided and an agonizing electric shock coursed through my whole form. I grit my teeth against the pain and held my ground, drawing on all my might to push him back.

“You can’t do this!” He yelled in my face, glitching into separate gestures of fear and fury, “I am in control here!”

“You stole control!” I spat with a clenched jaw, jumping at the sudden strength of my own voice ringing out where once had only been silence, “I’m taking it back!”

With every ounce of strength I could muster, I shoved him back. He stumbled, but remained upright and snarled at me, clearing his throat and popping his neck again. “Fine. But know this: I gave you a choice and this is what you chose.”

Then all at once he was gone. The ringing, the color, everything. All that was left was me, the nothingness, and the feeling of the Light.

“Your resolve is truly strong,” it said approvingly.

“I... er... Thank you? But um... wh-why help me?” I asked, looking for anything in the truly empty expanse of nothing.

“You chose to defy the darkness despite all temptation. You’ve spent plenty of time trapped by it and still you didn’t let it consume you. You have strength, and you want to use it to do what’s right. You can’t accomplish that here, but with your determination, you can back in your world.”

I raised an eyebrow, as much surprised to have one to raise as I was curious what this… being meant.

“That... didn’t really answer my question.”

“I suppose not. I came to help you because your conviction to protect the beings of your world called me here. You had every option to turn to darkness, but you chose to stand by your morals and so I come offering new life to you, Faded One. You can live again and bring order to your world, fight back the darkness.”

“What do I need to do?” I wanted to know, “But wait– what makes you different from Dark? You’re offering choices like he did.”

“I am, but the difference is that I gain nothing from them, while you have the potential to gain much. I offer two choices: you can live again in your old world, or you can cross over to the afterlife. But know that if you choose to live again, you’ll become something different. A soul whose purpose is to defend the multiverse, as mine is. I can only do so much from behind the scenes, but you would be able to physically interact with the worlds, doing what I cannot.”

“Okay, where’s the catch?” I asked, suspicious, “There’s always a catch to these. I really do want to live again and I’m not ready to move on, but…” I trailed off, unsure how to complete that sentence.

“There is sort of a ‘catch’, yes. A caveat, one might say. It is this: you won’t be able to die until you’ve successfully completed or irreparably failed your mission in a life. And when you do die, you’ll be brought back to a place like this to await reincarnation into another world with another mission. One could consider it a restless existence.”

I mulled this over for a while. The chance to protect the world– the multiverse– at the cost of no true afterlife? I’d done enough years of ‘resting’ in the mirror, and that had already felt like an eternity. Of course, a chance to really rest would be very welcome. But I just didn’t feel ready to move on and rest in peace. No, I wanted life again. I wanted to do what I never got the chance to do before. Resting would have to wait; I knew what I needed to do.

“I’ll do it. But please, don’t bring me back by taking someone else’s body from them. I won’t do that to someone else. Even if they’d already died.”

I felt the Light smile comfortingly, “I can give you a new body. However, since the one you call Dark is, among many others, already spreading evil in your world, it would be detrimental to let you reincarnate the normal way. We’ll make you a new body and a new life entirely. But you can’t look the same as you had before. That life is over after all.”

“What will I look like?”

“I am unsure. You will have to find out.”

“I’m ready, then,” I said with a nod. “How do we bring me back?”

“That is simple. All you have to do is wake up.”

“I– what?”

“Wake up!”