The underground passage was like a forgotten vein, pulsing damply between walls of rusted metal where water dripped with the scent of iron. Kael and Lyra's footsteps echoed aimlessly, accompanied only by the weight of their breaths and the faint hiss of lingering Resonance in the air.
The light from the mark on Lyra's wrist had not faded, even though she'd wrapped it in the black handkerchief Kael had given her. The silver glow seeped through the fabric, like a breath that refused to die.
Erebus whispered softly in her mind — no longer like a distant echo, but something standing right behind her shoulder. "They can smell your blood, Lyra. The cracks inside you are calling to them."
Lyra swallowed, her voice trembling. "What do they want?"
"Why, you, of course. Who else? Me?"
Kael turned sharply. "Who are you talking to?"
Lyra shook her head quickly. "No one… just my own thoughts."
Kael said nothing. They kept walking until the tunnel split in two. From the left came the rush of water; from the right, a faint bluish light shimmered. Kael studied both directions, then chose the one with light.
"Where are we going?" Lyra asked.
"Toward the light. In a place like this, only two things shine — life or a trap."
They moved carefully. The ceiling lowered, and the walls changed from metal to cracked stone. The air grew hotter, heavier. The deeper they went, the more the Resonance beneath the ground pulsed — like a heartbeat waiting to burst.
Kael stopped when he saw a mark on the wall: a black spiral carved in dried blood. Beneath it, faint letters in an ancient tongue. "What remains of the light shall return to ash."
Lyra stared at it. "What does it mean?"
Kael didn't answer. His face hardened. "It means we're too close to something we shouldn't find."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying there's only darkness here. No light is meant to survive."
They pressed on until the tunnel opened into a vast chamber, a ruin of fallen stone. Black pillars rose from the floor — some broken, others whole but scarred with spiraling sigils. In the center stood a massive circle of rusted iron.
Lyra froze. "Kael, that's—"
"An altar," he cut her off. "Look around."
Remnants of black candles, bowls crusted with dried blood, and human skulls marked with Resonance sigils littered the floor. The stench of rotting sorcery filled the air so thickly it made Lyra gag.
"This is a ritual site," she whispered.
Kael examined the iron ring. "Not just a ritual. A gate."
"A gate… to where?"
Kael's eyes met hers, grim. "To the other side of the Veil."
Lyra stepped back. "But that's impossible… no human can cross The Veil and remain whole."
"True," Kael said flatly. "But maybe they're trying to make someone who can."
Lyra's voice shook. "Why would they worship The Veil? Have they lost their minds?"
Kael's tone was colder than steel. "What else do you expect? Humans are never purely good. They're driven by greed and ambition. Tell me, Lyra — how could you wander into the world alone while still thinking like a child?"
Silence fell — broken only by the slow drip of water and the faint echo from above. A chill ran through Lyra's spine, not from the air, but from the dread that coiled inside her chest.
Erebus whispered again, his voice now like vibrating shards of metal. "This place… wasn't built by ordinary men. There's Ordo blood in these stones."
"Ordo blood?" Lyra frowned.
"You don't recognize the mark on the pillar? That's the old sigil of the Arcanis. But twisted… mutilated."
Lyra stepped closer. Beneath the spiraling symbol, the faint remains of the Ordo Arcanis crest were carved — roughly scratched out, as if someone had tried to erase it.
"Kael," she breathed, "why is the Ordo's emblem here?"
Kael didn't answer right away. His hand brushed the stone, eyes narrowing as if reading something beyond this world. "Maybe… because the Ordo weren't only protectors of magic. Maybe they were part of what caused the first fracture."
Lyra went still. "That's impossible. Seren would never—"
"Don't say her name here." Kael's voice lashed sharp as a blade, and Lyra flinched. "You have no idea who truly led that Order. Do you really think it was only Seren?"
They locked eyes. In Kael's, there was something like an old wound that never healed; in Lyra's, confusion and anger.
"Then tell me," she whispered. "Who have they really been fighting all this time? The Veil, or themselves? If even the Ordo is corrupted, then who am I supposed to trust?"
Kael didn't reply — but fear flickered across his face, rare and real. Then the western wall cracked. From within the stone came a faint sound — a song sung backward. Blue light seeped through the fractures, and the air grew heavy.
Kael pulled Lyra behind a pillar. "Hide."
Lyra held her breath. Two hooded figures emerged from the fissure. Their faces were veiled, their hands carrying pale-green Resonance lanterns. They approached the altar and stopped before the iron circle. One spoke, his voice like something bubbling through water.
"Three days more. The fragmentum will be joined with its vessel. When that happens, the Veil will open."
The other replied, "And the blood of Veynhart has been found. The child lives."
Lyra froze. Veynhart. The name struck her like a blade. Her breath caught, and Kael's gaze warned her to stay silent.
Moments later, the robed figures departed, their lights fading into another corridor. The silence that followed felt heavier than before.
"Kael…" Lyra whispered. "They said—"
"I know," he interrupted. "It means they know who you are."
Lyra bit her lip. "But how? No one knows I survived, except—"
"Erebus." Kael's voice was cold. "And perhaps he wasn't the only one who heard the call."
"Watch your words, hunter," Erebus hissed from the mark on her wrist. "Without me, the girl would've died in the snow."
Kael raised his sword slightly. "And without me, she'd have died to the Veil. Don't lecture me about protection."
Lyra stiffened — Kael could hear Erebus? For a heartbeat, she didn't know which of them she feared more. She'd never truly trusted anyone, so betrayal didn't surprise her — but this? This was something else.
"Protect her?" Erebus mocked. "Or use her? You carry sin in your blood as well."
"Enough!" Lyra's voice rang through the stone hall.
The mark on her hand flared with light, silencing Erebus. She faced Kael, eyes burning. "I don't understand — which of you am I supposed to trust? Who are you really, Kael?"
Kael stared at her, calm but deadly. "Be silent, Lyra. You'll die if you keep talking."
"I'd rather die knowing the truth than live in a lie."
Silence again. Only the dripping water and their ragged breaths. Then Kael spoke, voice low, almost weary. "You're stubborn… just like her."
"Like who?"
He looked at the altar, voice barely audible. "Someone who once sought the same truth. She paid for it with her life."
Lyra opened her mouth to ask, but the ground trembled. Cracks spread across the iron circle, and black mist rose — twisting like hands reaching out to claim them.
Kael grabbed her. "We're leaving. Now."
"I won't go until you tell me who you really are."
"There's no time! I'll tell you later."
He pulled her forward, sprinting down the western passage as whispers chased them through the stone. Lyra glanced back — and saw it: a pair of silver eyes gleaming within the mist.
"You will come to me, chosen child."
The voice echoed in her mind long after they fled.
The tunnel quaked, the ground shuddered, and a deep bell tolled from somewhere below.
Kael took a sharp breath. "We can't go back the way we came."
"Then where?"
"West — to the underground river. I know the path."
They ran through the blue-lit dark. Kael slashed at moving shadows while Lyra traced sigils in the air, her Resonance light dancing with the blood dripping from her wrist. Erebus whispered again, softer this time — almost mournful.
"You cannot run forever, Lyra. The fracture isn't a curse. It's a calling."
"I don't care," Lyra hissed. "I won't be anyone's tool. Not even yours, Erebus."
A low laugh echoed. "Not even for your own fate?"
"Silence!" she snapped.
The tunnel ended at a narrow ledge. Below, a river surged — dark water glowing faintly with drifting shards of Resonance. Kael glanced behind; footsteps echoed closer.
"Jump," he said.
"What?!"
"Jump if you want to live."
Without another word, Kael leapt. Lyra gritted her teeth and followed. The water hit like cold metal, dragging them into its depths, swallowing every sound. Before she lost consciousness, Lyra glimpsed the altar above — its silver glow still pulsing like an eye waiting to open.
When she awoke, the world swayed. She heard dripping water… birds. Warm air. She opened her eyes to see sunlight piercing through cracks in a vast cave. The river had led them to an open cavern.
Kael sat nearby, bandaging a wound on his arm, his eyes distant as he stared at the water. Lyra pushed herself up weakly. "We're… still alive?"
Kael glanced at her. "For now."
He stood, inspecting his sword — the blade was broken at the edge. "But we're not safe. They know you live. And they know what's in your blood."
Lyra looked at her hand. The silver light had dimmed. "Kael…" she whispered. "Now it's your turn. Tell me the truth. Who are you really — and what's your connection to the Ordo?"
꧁𓆩༺✧༻𓆪꧂