The voice came from behind him. He spun. His heart hammered against his ribs. His hands came up in a defensive posture.
He found himself facing a figure that had not been there before.
It was humanoid. But wrong. Too tall. Too thin. Its limbs jointed in ways that did not match human anatomy. Its skin was pale, almost translucent. Beneath it Kaelen could see the network pulsing. Crimson threads tangled with blue. Its eyes were empty sockets. Filled with the same sickly green light as the symbols on the walls.
It was wearing clothes. Old clothes. Formal clothes. The kind of clothes that might have been worn by a servant in a time long past.
"Who are you?"
"I am the Keeper of this place," it said. Its voice was dry. Like paper crumbling. "And you are the one who woke it."
Kaelen kept his hands raised. His body tensed. Ready to move.
"What is this place?"
The Keeper tilted its head. Its empty sockets seemed to fix on Kaelen's face.
