The chamber did not open.
It released them.
Stone groaned beneath ancient mechanisms as the sigils along the walls flared one final time, then faded into lifeless scars. The pressure in the air lifted gradually, like a breath being exhaled after centuries of restraint.
She staggered as the ground beneath her feet shifted.
"Careful."
His hand caught her elbow before she fell.
The contact was brief—but the chain reacted instantly.
Her wrist burned.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
They froze at the same time.
Slowly, deliberately, he loosened his grip and stepped back.
"Warn me," he said quietly.
"I— I didn't know I'd lose balance," she replied, breath uneven.
"You will," he answered. "Eventually."
The stone wall before them split open with a low, grinding sound, revealing a narrow passage sloping upward. Cold air rushed in, carrying the scent of damp earth… and something sharper.
Smoke.
She lifted her head, eyes narrowing. "There's fire outside."
"Yes," he said. "That means we're late."
Her stomach dropped. "Late for what?"
He didn't answer.
They moved slowly through the passage, her steps cautious, his measured. The farther they walked, the more the link pressed between them—not painful, but present. Like a constant pull, reminding her that distance had consequences.
Light appeared ahead.
Real light.
When they emerged, she squinted, shielding her eyes.
The sky above was a muted gray, clouds hanging low and heavy as if the world itself was exhausted. Jagged cliffs surrounded them, their surfaces carved with ruins half-swallowed by moss and time.
Below—
Her breath caught.
A village lay in ruins.
Smoke curled from collapsed rooftops. The ground was littered with shattered stone and blackened wood. Whatever life had once existed there had been erased violently and recently.
She took an instinctive step forward.
Pain lanced through her wrist.
He groaned.
"Stop," he muttered, bracing himself against a rock.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, freezing. "I just—"
"I know," he cut in, then steadied himself. "Don't react before thinking. The link mirrors impulse."
She swallowed, forcing her gaze away from the devastation below.
"What happened here?" she asked.
"Hunters," he replied.
The word sent a chill through her.
"Hunting what?"
He looked at her then—really looked at her.
"Me."
Her pulse spiked. "People did this… because of you?"
"Because of what I am," he corrected. "I don't invite destruction. I attract it."
She stared back at the village, chest tightening.
"If they're hunting you," she said slowly, "then I'm—"
"A liability," he finished. "And a shield."
Neither word comforted her.
Movement caught her eye.
At the far edge of the village, shadows shifted unnaturally. Figures moved between the ruins—too organized to be scavengers, too quiet to be survivors.
His posture changed instantly.
The chains around him tightened.
"They're still here," he murmured.
Fear surged through her—and the link flared violently.
He hissed, dropping to one knee.
"I'm sorry— I'm trying—" she whispered, panic clawing at her chest.
"Control it," he said through clenched teeth. "Fear feeds the chain."
"How?" she cried softly.
He looked up at her, eyes sharp despite the pain.
"Anchor yourself," he said. "To me."
The idea terrified her.
But she had no choice.
She forced herself to breathe—slow, deliberate. She focused on his presence, not as a threat, but as something solid. Real.
The pain eased.
He exhaled shakily, chains loosening inch by inch.
"Good," he said. "Now listen."
He stood, pulling her gently behind the cover of broken stone.
"We don't fight," he continued. "Not here. Not yet."
"What about them?" she whispered.
"They're not after you," he said. "Not yet."
Her throat tightened.
"And when they are?"
His gaze softened—not kindly, but truthfully.
"Then this world will learn," he said quietly, "why I was chained."
A horn sounded in the distance.
Low. Searching.
Her heart pounded.
"This place isn't safe," she said.
"No," he agreed. "But it's honest."
He glanced at her wrist, where the mark pulsed steadily now—no longer burning, but alive.
"You wanted to know what comes next," he said.
She met his gaze, fear and resolve twisting together.
"Yes."
He turned toward the cliffs, already calculating paths and shadows.
"Now," he said, "you learn how to survive a world that wants me dead."
And how to survive being bound to him, she thought.
The smoke rose higher behind them as they moved—two figures linked by a curse neither had chosen, stepping into a world that had been waiting for them far too long.