Chapter 4: The Eyes That See

The alleyways grew narrower and darker as Lira and Jarek pressed on, their footsteps almost drowned out by the eerie stillness that hung in the air. The city was vast, but it often felt suffocating—its towering buildings like massive sentinels leaning over them, watching every move they made. The streets ahead seemed to twist in on themselves, as if the Echo's power distorted the very fabric of the world around them.

Jarek moved with purpose, guiding Lira deeper into the shadows of the city. They hadn't spoken since the encounter with the Watcher, but the tension between them was palpable. Lira could feel the weight of her new reality pressing down on her, heavy and unrelenting. The Echo wasn't just a rumor anymore—it was a living thing, creeping through her dreams, warping her fears into something tangible.

Her heart was still racing from the Watcher's presence, though it had disappeared into the night. Every nerve in her body felt raw, like she was standing on the edge of something she couldn't quite comprehend.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice low but strained. She didn't care if her fear showed anymore. There was no point in hiding it.

Jarek glanced over his shoulder but didn't slow down. "There's a place where the Echo can't touch you. At least, not fully."

Lira frowned, struggling to keep pace with him. "Where? I didn't think anywhere was safe."

"Safe isn't the right word," Jarek replied. His voice was tight, as though he was holding something back. "But there are places where its reach is weaker. Places where people like us—those marked—can learn to resist."

Lira felt a knot form in her stomach. People like us. She still couldn't fully accept that she was one of them now. Marked by something she couldn't see, hunted by forces she didn't understand. She had spent her whole life trying to keep her head down, to stay out of trouble. Now, trouble had found her, and it was far more dangerous than anything she had ever imagined.

"What kind of place?" she pressed. "And how do you know about it?"

Jarek stopped abruptly and turned to face her, his expression hard. "Because it's where I learned to survive. Where I learned to fight the Echo before it could take me."

Lira stared at him, her mind racing. She had known Jarek for years—he had always been someone on the outskirts of her life, a figure who appeared from time to time with quiet, knowing eyes. But she had never really known him. Not like this.

"You've been marked for that long?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Longer than you'd think," Jarek said quietly. "And it never really goes away. You can push it back, control it, but it's always there, lurking."

Lira felt a shiver run down her spine. The thought of carrying the Echo's mark for so long—of living with that constant shadow hanging over her—made her feel sick.

"How did you learn to fight it?" she asked, her voice tight.

Jarek didn't answer right away. He glanced down the street, scanning the shadows before finally meeting her gaze. "There's a man. A guide, of sorts. He knows more about the Echo than anyone I've ever met. He helped me, and he can help you too."

"A man?" Lira repeated, doubt creeping into her voice. "How does he know so much?"

Jarek's expression darkened. "Because he's been fighting the Echo for longer than any of us. He's seen what it can do, and he knows what it takes to resist."

Lira swallowed hard. She didn't like the sound of this mysterious guide, but if there was even a chance he could help her, she had no choice but to follow Jarek.

"Where is he?" she asked.

Jarek's eyes flickered with something that looked almost like regret. "He's in the Old District. It's not a place most people go, but it's where we need to be."

The Old District. The name alone sent a chill down Lira's spine. She had heard stories about that part of the city—stories of crumbling buildings, abandoned streets, and things that moved in the darkness. It was a place people avoided, and for good reason. Those who ventured into the Old District didn't always come back.

"You think this guide can help me?" Lira asked, trying to steady her voice.

Jarek nodded, though his expression remained grim. "If anyone can, it's him. But the journey won't be easy."

Lira bit her lip, her mind swirling with a thousand questions. Could she really trust Jarek? Could she trust this mysterious guide? She had no idea, but she didn't have many options left. The Echo was coming for her, and if she didn't find a way to fight it, she knew she wouldn't survive.

"Fine," she said finally. "Let's go."

---

The Old District was even worse than Lira had imagined.

They had walked for hours, slipping through narrow alleys and deserted streets, the distant hum of the city growing fainter with each step. As they crossed the invisible line between the city and the Old District, the air seemed to change. It was colder here, the wind biting at her skin, and the buildings were in even worse shape than the rest of the city. Cracks ran up the sides of crumbling walls, windows were shattered, and the few streetlights that still worked flickered weakly, casting long, jagged shadows.

Lira pulled her cloak tighter around herself, trying to ignore the growing sense of unease gnawing at her insides. The Old District felt wrong, like the Echo's presence was stronger here, lingering in every corner.

"Stay close," Jarek warned, his voice low. "This part of the city isn't just abandoned. There are things here… things that feed on the Echo's energy."

Lira's heart skipped a beat. "What kind of things?"

Jarek glanced at her, his expression grave. "You don't want to know."

They moved quickly, their footsteps echoing off the cracked pavement. Lira kept her eyes forward, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them from the shadows. Every so often, she would catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye—something darting between the ruins, too fast for her to make out.

"Is it safe here?" she asked, her voice hushed.

"No," Jarek replied bluntly. "But it's where we need to be."

As they pressed deeper into the Old District, the streets became more twisted, as if the city itself had warped over time. Buildings leaned at odd angles, their foundations cracked and crumbling. The air felt thick with decay, and a faint, almost imperceptible hum seemed to vibrate through the ground.

Finally, they came to a stop in front of a large, decrepit building. The windows were shattered, and the front door hung loosely on its hinges, creaking slightly in the wind.

"This is it," Jarek said, his voice low.

Lira stared up at the building, a sense of dread settling in her chest. It looked like it had been abandoned for years, left to rot and fall apart. "This is where your guide is?"

Jarek nodded. "He's inside."

Lira took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She had come this far—she couldn't turn back now. "Let's go, then."

They stepped inside the building, the floorboards creaking under their weight. The air was thick with dust, and the faint scent of mildew clung to the walls. The interior was dark, save for the weak light filtering in through the broken windows. As they moved deeper into the building, Lira's unease grew.

"Are you sure about this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible in the heavy silence.

Jarek didn't respond. He led her down a long, narrow hallway, the floor slanting slightly under their feet. At the end of the hallway, they reached a door—heavy and reinforced with metal. Jarek knocked three times, the sound echoing through the empty halls.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the door creaked open, and a figure appeared in the doorway.

The man was tall and thin, his skin pale and gaunt. His eyes were sunken, dark shadows ringing them as if he hadn't slept in days. His clothes were worn and tattered, and his hands were covered in scars—deep, jagged lines that crisscrossed his knuckles.

"You brought another one," the man said, his voice rough and gravelly.

Jarek nodded. "She needs your help, Merek."

The man—Merek—glanced at Lira, his eyes narrowing slightly. He studied her for a moment, as if weighing whether she was worth his time.

"Come in," he said finally, stepping aside to let them pass.

Lira hesitated for a split second, but then followed Jarek into the room. The interior was sparse, with only a few pieces of broken furniture scattered around. A dim light hung from the ceiling, casting flickering shadows across the walls.

Merek closed the door behind them and motioned for them to sit. "You're marked, aren't you?" he asked, his gaze fixed on Lira.

She nodded, her throat tight. "Yes."

Merek sat down across from them, leaning back in his chair. "The Echo's power is growing. More and more are being marked every day. But not everyone is strong enough to fight it