The tunnels felt different this time.
Not because anything had changed. The same rough stone surrounded him. The same faint dripping echoed somewhere in the darkness. The same narrow passages twisted deeper into the mountain.
What had changed was Dan.
Three days ago, he’d stumbled through these corridors half-blind with panic, lungs burning and arms flailing as every instinct screamed at him to keep running.
Now he walked with his shoulders straight.
His steps were steady.
The strength he’d built over the past three days settled into every movement, heavy and unfamiliar, but no longer foreign.
He listened.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Water rushed around the bend ahead.
It came fast, pouring through the narrow passage before gathering itself into the same rough, faceless shape he’d spent half a day fleeing from.
The Tidebound Echo stopped.
Dan stopped too.
For the first time, neither moved.
There was no expression on the creature’s featureless face, nothing resembling eyes or a mouth. Yet Dan somehow understood what had happened.
Recognition.
The prey had stopped running.
The Echo attacked anyway.
The first exchange nearly killed him.
A whip-like tendril of condensed water snapped toward his shoulder with terrifying speed.
Dan barely reacted in time.
"Tidal Skin!"
The technique flared across his arm.
The watery film hardened just as the attack landed.
Boom!
The impact drove him backward.
His feet scraped violently against the stone before his back slammed into the tunnel wall hard enough to crack it.
Pain exploded through his shoulder.
Dan’s teeth clenched.
He’d blocked it.
Barely.
It doesn’t announce its strikes.
The spirits’ words echoed through his mind.
Hold the skin ready. Always ready.
Dan forced himself upright.
He kept Tidal Skin active.
The drain came immediately, settling into his concentration like a heavy weight. Every second the technique remained active demanded something from him, but he’d learned better than to wait until the moment of impact.
The Echo struck again.
A second limb formed from its body and lashed toward him at nearly the same time as the first.
Dan twisted.
The first strike scraped across his hardened forearm.
The second passed over his head.
He ducked beneath it and stepped inside the creature’s reach.
His fist pulled back.
Gather.
Withdraw.
Release.
"Wave Strike!"
His fist slammed into the Echo.
The impact sent a violent shock through the tunnel.
The water-body buckled.
For an instant, Dan saw the technique work exactly as the spirits had taught him. His entire body’s weight flowed into the strike, gathered and compressed before being released through his fist.
The Echo staggered.
Dan’s eyes sharpened.
Good.
He immediately followed with another strike.
Then another.
The Echo gave ground.
For a brief moment, it almost felt possible.
Almost.
It wasn’t.
Two days of brutal conditioning had made Dan stronger, faster and far harder to kill than the Murloc who had entered the Trial Ground.
But two days were still only two days.
The Echo had been hunting him for three.
It didn’t breathe.
It didn’t tire.
It didn’t hesitate.
Every time Dan forced it apart, the creature simply reformed.
Every time he created distance, it closed that distance again.
And every exchange cost him something.
Dan landed another Wave Strike.
The Echo’s body burst apart.
He exhaled sharply.
"Got you."
The words had barely left his mouth when the water began pulling itself back together.
Dan’s expression fell.
’Of course.’
The Echo lunged again.
He raised his arm.
The attack came from the left.
Dan blocked.
Another tendril formed behind him.
He turned.
Too slow.
The strike caught him across the ribs.
Crack!
Pain ripped through his side.
Dan’s knees buckled.
He dropped to one knee, clutching his ribs as something inside his chest screamed with every breath.
Get up.
He forced himself upright.
The Echo was already coming again.
Minutes blurred together.
Or perhaps hours.
Dan stopped knowing the difference.
The tunnels became a battlefield of shattered stone and scattered water. Every missed strike carved grooves into the walls. Every impact sent droplets spraying through the air.
His body became a catalogue of injuries.
Bruised ribs.
Torn skin.
Swollen hands.
A shoulder that screamed whenever he raised it.
One rib was definitely broken now. He could feel it shifting painfully whenever he breathed too deeply.
Still, he fought.
Tidal Skin.
Wave Strike.
Move.
Block.
Counter.
Repeat.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The Echo never changed.
That was what made it terrifying.
It didn’t need tactics.
It didn’t need desperation.
It simply kept coming.
Dan, however, was beginning to slow.
His breathing grew ragged.
His legs felt heavier.
His concentration frayed.
The blue film around his body flickered more frequently now, disappearing for fractions of a second before returning.
And the Echo noticed.
The next strike came faster.
Dan raised his arm.
Too late.
The Tidal Skin vanished.
The blow struck him directly across the chest.
Boom!
His body left the ground.
He flew backward and slammed into the far wall.
The impact shattered what little strength remained in his legs.
Dan collapsed.
For several seconds, he couldn’t hear anything.
Then sound returned in pieces.
Dripping water.
His own breathing.
The distant rush of the Echo reforming.
Dan blinked.
His vision swam.
He tried to move his legs.
Nothing.
He tried again.
A faint tremor passed through them, but they refused to support him.
’Come on.’
His palms pressed against the stone.
His arms shook violently.
He pushed.
Nothing.
The Echo rose before him.
Its entire body gathered into a towering mass of water, filling the narrow passage.
Dan stared upward.
He understood.
This was the end.
The creature’s form condensed.
The water around it began spinning faster and faster, drawing into a single massive limb.
A final strike.
Dan’s breathing became shallow.
Two days of training.
Two days of pain.
Two days of pushing his body beyond everything he’d thought possible.
And still...
Not enough.
His vision blurred.
For one terrible moment, doubt crept into his mind.
’Was this all I could do?’
The Echo raised its arm.
Dan gritted his teeth.
His right hand trembled as he forced it upward.
It was barely enough to cover his chest.
"Tidal..."
His voice cracked.
The blue film flickered across his arm.
Then vanished.
Dan’s eyes widened.
’No.’
He tried again.
"Tidal Skin!"
Nothing.
The Echo descended.
Dan stared at the approaching wall of water.
His body refused to move.
His mind screamed at him to run.
His legs remained useless.
The distance disappeared.
The strike came down.
And in that final instant, something inside Dan changed.
Not his muscles.
Not his bloodline.
Something deeper.
He remembered the spirits.
The tide does not fight the shore.
It withdraws.
It gathers.
Then it returns with everything it took away.
Dan’s trembling fist slowly clenched.
’Withdraw.’
His breathing stopped.
’Gather.’
The blue light returned.
Not around his entire body.
Only around his fist.
The Echo’s attack was already inches away.
Dan’s eyes hardened.
’Return.’
His fist moved.
"Wave Strike!"
The punch collided with the descending mass of water.
For one heartbeat, everything stopped.
Then the tunnel exploded.