The shimmering portal, a tear in the fabric of reality held open by the will of the System, spat them out onto cracked obsidian pavement. The air tasted different here, heavier, laced with the metallic tang of old blood and the faint, lingering scent of ozone. Ethan stumbled, Anya’s hand firm on his arm, steadying him. Behind them, the portal flickered then vanished, leaving them stranded in the heart of the Land of Origin.

Before them lay the City of Echoes.

It wasn't a city in the way they understood it. Not bustling with life, commerce, or even rudimentary order. Instead, it was a sprawling testament to decay, a graveyard of ambition built on a scale that defied comprehension. Buildings, or what remained of them, clawed at the sky, their once majestic facades now crumbling under the weight of centuries. Twisted metal skeletons of unknown purpose littered the streets, choked by weeds that glowed with an unnatural luminescence. Silence reigned, broken only by the whisper of wind whistling through shattered windows and the crunch of their boots on the debris-strewn ground.

Anya inhaled sharply. "I… I don't like this place. It feels… wrong."

Ethan understood. Vermont, even after the Shatter, still held echoes of its former life. This place felt utterly alien, devoid of any connection to the world they knew. A place where the rules were different, and the price of survival was likely much higher.

Behind them, the small contingent of survivors from their settlement – a motley collection of farmers, mechanics, and the surprisingly resourceful librarian, Mrs. Abernathy – emerged tentatively from the space where the portal had been. Their faces were etched with a mixture of awe and terror.

"Keep close," Ethan commanded, his voice tight. He activated his Necromantic aura, the familiar tingle of power spreading through his veins. The Undead Frost Dragon, its massive form dwarfing the surrounding ruins, shifted uneasily. Even it seemed wary of this place.

He summoned a dozen Skeleton Warriors, their bone bodies reforming around him in a clatter of bone and spectral energy. They stood as a silent, watchful guard, their hollow eyes scanning the desolate cityscape. He also had the Skeletal Summoner, its bony fingers twitching, ready to unleash a swarm of lesser skeletons at a moment's notice.

Anya, bathed in the soft glow of her Lightbringer abilities, took the lead, her radiant aura pushing back the oppressive darkness. "We should find shelter. Somewhere defensible."

The City of Echoes seemed to mock their efforts. Every alleyway was a potential ambush, every crumbling doorway a hiding place for unseen dangers. They moved slowly, cautiously, sticking to the wider streets, their senses on high alert.

They hadn't gone far when they heard it: a guttural snarl, followed by the scraping of claws on stone. Rounding a corner, they were confronted by a pack of Scavengers – hulking, canine-like creatures with matted fur, razor-sharp teeth, and eyes that glowed with predatory hunger. They were common enough in the shattered world, but these were different. Larger, more aggressive, their bodies scarred with unnatural mutations.

"Evolved Scavengers," Anya hissed. "Land of Origin variants. Stronger, faster, and much meaner."

The Scavengers charged, their snarling growing into a deafening roar. Ethan didn't hesitate. He unleashed his Skeleton Warriors, sending them crashing into the pack. The undead warriors, bolstered by the Legacy of Shadow he'd recently acquired, fought with surprising ferocity, their bone blades finding purchase in the Scavengers' tough hides.

But the Scavengers were relentless. They tore at the skeletons, ripping limbs and crushing bone with savage glee. Ethan knew his skeletal foot soldiers wouldn't last long.

"Frost Dragon!" he commanded.

The massive dragon roared, unleashing a torrent of freezing breath that slammed into the Scavengers. The creatures were instantly encased in ice, their snarls silenced, their bodies frozen solid. Ethan seized the opportunity. He sent his Skeletal Summoner forward, its bony fingers weaving arcane gestures. The Summoner conjured a wave of lesser skeletons, a swarm of undead filling the gaps left by the fallen warriors.

The battle was brutal, chaotic, and over quickly. The remaining Scavengers, realizing they were outmatched, fled into the ruins. Ethan surveyed the carnage, his face grim. Even with his evolved undead, survival in the Land of Origin would be a constant struggle.

As they regrouped, a figure emerged from the shadows. He was tall and lean, clad in scavenged armor and wielding a rusty pipe. His face was hidden behind a makeshift mask fashioned from scrap metal, but his eyes, visible through the slits, were sharp and calculating.

"Well, well," he said, his voice raspy. "Looks like we have some newcomers. Welcome to the City of Echoes. Or should I say, welcome to your death."

Anya stepped forward, her Lightbringer aura intensifying. "We don't want any trouble. We're just looking for a safe place to rest."

The masked figure chuckled. "Safe? In this city? There's no such thing. But… maybe we can help each other. I know this place like the back of my hand. I can show you the ropes… for a price."

Ethan eyed him warily. He sensed a trap, but they were in a desperate situation. Information was valuable, especially in this unknown territory.

"What's your price?" Ethan asked.

"Information is power," the masked figure replied, "and power demands tribute. I need… resources. Food, weapons, anything that can help me survive."

Ethan considered the offer. "And what guarantees do we have that you won't betray us?"

The masked figure shrugged. "None. But trust me, you'll need my help. This city is filled with things far more dangerous than Scavengers." He paused, his eyes glinting in the shadows. "And not all of them are monsters."

Before Ethan could respond, a scream pierced the silence. It came from the direction of their group, near where the survivors from the settlement were huddled together.

Ethan, Anya, and the masked figure raced towards the sound. They found Mrs. Abernathy cowering behind a crumbling pillar, pointing a trembling finger at something in the distance.

Standing amidst the ruins, surrounded by an aura of dark energy, was another Awakened. He was clad in ornate, black armor, and his face was hidden behind a skull-like mask. He was surrounded by a small army of Ghouls, their rotting flesh crawling with maggots, their eyes burning with malevolent intent.

"Intruders," the armored figure said, his voice a guttural growl that seemed to resonate from the depths of his soul. "You have trespassed in my domain. Prepare to face the consequences."

He raised a hand, and the Ghouls surged forward, their decaying claws extended, their hunger palpable. The fight for survival in the City of Echoes had just begun.

Anya, her face set with determination, unleashed a blinding wave of light, pushing back the Ghouls. "Ethan, deal with him! I'll protect the others!"

Ethan nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. His first real test in the Land of Origin. He focused his power, drawing upon the dark energy that flowed through his veins. He commanded the Undead Frost Dragon to attack, the colossal creature unleashing a torrent of ice that shattered the ground around the armored figure.

The figure deflected the attack with a wave of his hand, the dark energy around him swirling into a protective shield. "Impressive," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "But your toys are no match for my power."

He lunged forward, his movements surprisingly swift, his blade flashing in the dim light. Ethan parried with a bone sword summoned from his Skeleton Warrior, the clash of steel and bone echoing through the ruins.

The masked figure watched the battle unfold, his eyes narrowed. "Well, Necromancer," he muttered to himself. "Looks like things are about to get interesting."

Ethan knew this was more than just a fight for survival. It was a fight for his place in this new world, a fight to prove that even a Necromancer could find a place in the Land of Origin. The City of Echoes would be his proving ground, and the echoes of this battle would resonate long after the dust had settled.