The doors slammed shut.
The sound echoed like a gunshot—metal crashing against metal with a finality that rattled the bones. The air shifted instantly, pressure snapping tight around them as the thin sliver of gray daylight vanished.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Leah screamed.
It tore out of her before she could stop it, raw and unfiltered, her body jerking violently against Izana's hold. Her hands clawed at his coat, nails digging in as her chest seized.
"Izana—!"
The word broke apart as her breath hitched, lungs refusing to work the way they were supposed to.
The curse surged.
Not inside Izana.
Around them.
The darkness thickened, unnatural and absolute, like the absence of space itself. Leah's vision—already useless—felt crushed inward, as though the dark were pressing directly against her mind.
"I'm here," Izana said immediately, tightening his arms around her. "I'm right here. Listen to my voice."
She couldn't.
The dark wasn't just dark.
It was memory.
Her body betrayed her, panic ripping through her in violent waves. The smell of rust and damp concrete twisted into something older, something she hadn't let herself remember in years. Locked doors. No windows. No light. No one coming.
Her breathing shattered into gasps.
"I can't—. I can't breathe—." she sobbed, fingers spasming where they fisted into his chest.
Izana didn't hesitate.
He pulled her fully against him, one arm locked around her shoulders, the other cradling the back of her head, pressing her face into his chest where she couldn't see the dark.
"Leah. Focus on me," he said firmly, voice steady despite the curse screaming inside him. "Count with me. In. Out."
The curse hated that.
The pressure shifted violently.
The floor moved.
Leah screamed again as something yanked at her—an invisible force tearing her sideways. Izana reacted instantly, tightening his grip, planting his feet.
"No," he snarled.
The curse retaliated.
The ground gave way beneath him with a deafening crack.
Izana was ripped from her.
"IZANA!"
Her hands slipped from his coat as the force tore them apart, her body slamming hard against the concrete a split second later. Pain shot through her shoulder, but it barely registered over the terror.
"Izana!" she screamed into the dark.
No answer.
The darkness swallowed sound.
Across the warehouse, Izana hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs. Something sharp tore through his side as he rolled, metal scraping against skin, then—
Pain.
Hot, blinding, immediate.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up on one elbow despite the way his body screamed in protest. The white blindfold slipped askew, useless now, darkness absolute regardless.
"Leah!" he shouted.
The curse answered instead.
It pressed down on him with vicious satisfaction, the weight of it forcing him back to one knee. His breath came in ragged pulls as pain flared along his ribs—something cracked, maybe fractured. He didn't stop to assess.
He pushed forward anyway.
The warehouse shifted.
Not physically.
Spatially.
Sound warped. Distance stretched. The curse twisted the interior, turning open space into a maze of blind corners and hollow echoes.
Leah's sobbing reached him faintly—too far.
That terrified him more than the pain.
"Leah!" he shouted again, voice hoarse. "Answer me!"
She heard him.
Barely.
The sound came from everywhere and nowhere at once, echoing and distorted. Leah curled inward where she'd landed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, breath coming in sharp, broken gasps.
The dark pressed closer.
"Izana—." she whispered, throat burning. "Please…"
Her mind fractured.
The warehouse dissolved into something else entirely—walls closing in, darkness alive, her heartbeat pounding so loud it drowned out thought. She clawed at the floor blindly, fingers scraping concrete, grounding herself in pain because it was better than the memories flooding back.
The curse leaned close.
It didn't speak.
It showed.
A flicker of the boy—black hair, red eyes—watching from the shadows. Not moving. Not intervening.
Warning.
"Stay away from him," his voice echoed faintly in her mind.
"I won't," she sobbed. "I won't leave him."
The pressure intensified in response.
Across the warehouse, Izana staggered into a metal support beam he hadn't sensed in time. The impact sent a sharp spike of pain through his shoulder, his vision flashing white despite the darkness.
He hissed through clenched teeth but stayed upright.
This place—
He recognized it.
Not consciously at first.
But his body did.
The air. The acoustics. The way the dark felt familiar in the worst possible way.
The curse pulsed, pleased.
This warehouse wasn't random.
It was old.
Not abandoned by accident—but by intent.
A place built to contain something dangerous.
Him.
Memory scraped at the edges of his mind—restraints, screaming metal, the smell of blood and smoke. He shoved it down brutally.
Not now.
"Leah," he rasped, forcing himself forward again despite the pain ripping through his side. Warmth soaked into his clothing—blood, he realized dimly, though he didn't care.
He followed her voice.
The curse fought him every step.
It lashed at his body, sending tremors through his limbs, dragging at his consciousness. He slammed a hand into the concrete wall to steady himself, breath shaking.
"You don't get her," he growled under his breath. "You never will."
The curse shrieked—angry now.
It surged once more.
Leah cried out as the floor beneath her shifted, tilting sharply. She slid several feet before colliding with something solid—metal bars, cold and unyielding.
Her panic peaked.
She couldn't breathe at all now.
"Izana—!" she screamed, voice breaking completely.
He heard it.
Clear this time.
He lunged forward—
—and something slammed into his chest with brutal force.
Izana crashed back into the concrete, pain exploding through his ribs. He gasped, vision blacking out for a terrifying second.
The curse loomed over him, crushing and merciless.
This is what you are, it seemed to whisper.
Alone.
Broken.
He forced his eyes open.
"No," he breathed. "Not again."
He dragged himself upright, every movement agony, blood slicking his fingers. He didn't care.
Leah needed him.
That was all that mattered.
Across the warehouse, Leah's hands trembled violently as she pressed them over her ears, sobbing into the darkness.
"I can't—I can't do this—."
A sound cut through the dark.
Footsteps.
Uneven.
Determined.
"Izana?" she whispered.
"Stay where you are," his voice came back, rough but unmistakably real. "I'm coming."
The curse recoiled—furious.
The warehouse groaned around them.
And for the first time since they'd been dragged into the dark, something changed.
Not safety.
Not relief.
But resistance.
They were still separated.
Izana was injured.
Leah was breaking.
But neither of them was alone.
And the curse—cornered by something it could not fully extinguish—prepared to strike harder.