The ancient library remained silent after the scholar revealed where the final entries had been written. Dust drifted lazily through the pale lantern light while dozens of expedition members stood frozen between towering shelves packed with forgotten knowledge. The discovery should have felt like a victory. Instead, it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff and finally seeing how deep the abyss truly was.
Captain Edrik Hale had entered the temple.
More importantly, he had survived long enough to write about it.
Aren stared at the journal for a few moments before rubbing his face. The boy looked exhausted despite the fact that the day had barely begun. At this point, every new revelation seemed determined to make the situation worse.
"You know, every time I think things can't get any creepier, reality treats it like a personal challenge."
Nobody laughed.
That was becoming a recurring problem.
General Caelan remained standing beside the table, his silver eyes fixed on the journal. The military commander looked calm as always, but the atmosphere surrounding him had subtly changed. The discovery of the city had been troubling. The skeletons had been troubling. The warning carved into the wall had been troubling.
The journal, however, was different.
The journal connected everything.
"Continue."
The scholar nodded and carefully turned the page. The old paper crackled softly beneath his fingers. For a brief moment, the sound seemed unnaturally loud inside the vast library.
Then he began reading.
"Day Twenty-One."
The scholar's voice echoed softly through the chamber.
"We entered the temple today."
A strange feeling settled over the room.
The expedition members exchanged uneasy glances.
The parallel was impossible to ignore.
They were standing inside the temple now.
Reading the words of someone who had once stood exactly where they stood.
"I argued against it."
The scholar paused briefly before continuing.
"Commander Rell argued against it. The researchers argued against it. We all knew entering was a mistake."
The old man turned the page.
"Then the bells rang again."
Silence settled over the library.
"After that, nobody argued anymore."
A chill ran down Kael's spine.
The words felt wrong.
Not because they were frightening.
Because they sounded familiar.
The people of Frostwatch had known something was wrong.
They had known they should stay away.
And yet they had entered anyway.
Almost as if the decision had stopped being theirs.
The scholar continued.
"The temple is larger than it appears from outside."
Another page turned.
"The architecture does not match any civilization known to us."
Another.
"The symbols cover every wall."
Several researchers glanced around instinctively.
The journal wasn't exaggerating.
Every visible surface of the library was covered by ancient carvings.
Thousands of symbols stretched across the black stone walls like fragments of some forgotten language.
"Some of the researchers believe the city predates recorded history."
The old man swallowed.
Then read the next sentence.
"I believe they are underestimating its age."
A murmur spread quietly through the gathered scholars.
Even among academics, that statement carried weight.
Predating recorded history was already extraordinary.
Older than that?
The implication was unsettling.
Aren looked toward Lyra.
"How old is older than recorded history?"
Lyra frowned.
"Very old."
The boy sighed.
"I hate academic answers."
The scholar ignored them and continued reading.
"The deeper we travel, the stronger the singing becomes."
The library immediately fell silent again.
The singing.
There it was.
The same thing mentioned repeatedly throughout the journal.
The same thing that had somehow convinced hundreds of people to abandon Frostwatch.
The same thing connected to the bell.
"Most people can hear it now."
Another page.
"Some claim it sounds beautiful."
Another.
"Others claim it sounds familiar."
The scholar hesitated.
Then read the next line.
"I hear my daughter's voice."
Nobody spoke.
The words seemed to settle over the room like falling snow.
Aren's expression disappeared completely.
Even the boy had stopped trying to joke.
The scholar continued.
"She has been dead for seven years."
The atmosphere inside the library became noticeably colder.
Several soldiers shifted uncomfortably.
One of the researchers looked away.
The implication was obvious.
The singing wasn't merely sound.
It was something else.
Something personal.
Something that knew exactly what its victims wanted to hear.
The scholar turned another page.
The handwriting had become less stable.
The neat military script from earlier entries was slowly disappearing.
"Several people wandered away from the expedition today."
A pause.
"Nobody noticed until it was too late."
Another page.
"We found them standing motionless inside one of the lower chambers."
The old man's voice grew quieter.
"They were smiling."
The same word again.
Smiling.
Kael hated that word now.
Every time it appeared, the journal became more disturbing.
The scholar turned another page.
"They claimed they had seen the Faceless King."
The room froze.
The title hung heavily in the air.
Faceless King.
Nobody had heard those words before.
Yet somehow they immediately felt important.
Aren blinked.
"That's definitely a boss fight name."
Selene elbowed him.
Hard.
The boy winced.
"I deserved that."
General Caelan folded his arms.
"What happened next?"
The scholar looked up.
"The journal explains."
He lowered his gaze back toward the page.
"When questioned, none of them could describe what they had seen."
Another page.
"They simply repeated the same phrase."
The old man's expression changed.
The scholars nearby immediately noticed.
"What is it?"
The elderly researcher looked pale.
Very pale.
Then he slowly read the sentence aloud.
"The king is dreaming."
Silence.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The sentence wasn't particularly frightening.
Yet something about it felt deeply unsettling.
As though it carried meaning they couldn't understand.
The scholar continued.
"The king is dreaming."
Another page.
"The king is dreaming."
Another.
"The king is dreaming."
The same sentence had been written repeatedly across the journal.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Entire pages were covered with those four words.
The handwriting became increasingly unstable with each repetition.
By the final page, it barely looked human.
The library remained completely silent.
The only sound was the turning of paper.
Then the scholar reached the final entry.
His expression darkened immediately.
Everyone noticed.
General Caelan stepped forward.
"What does it say?"
The old man swallowed.
For several moments, he simply stared at the page.
Then he began reading.
"Day Twenty-Five."
The handwriting looked frantic.
Desperate.
"The lower chambers are open."
A pause.
"Gods help us."
The scholar turned another page.
"The singing isn't coming from the temple."
Several expedition members frowned.
The old man continued.
"The temple is built above it."
The room froze.
Every person present immediately understood the implication.
The temple wasn't the source.
It was a seal.
Or a prison.
Or a barrier.
Something beneath it was responsible.
The scholar's hands trembled.
"We found the door."
Another page.
"We should never have opened the door."
The atmosphere became suffocating.
Nobody interrupted.
Nobody breathed.
"There is a city beneath the city."
Aren's face slowly lost all color.
The scholar continued.
"The people below are still alive."
A long silence followed.
Then:
"I think."
The room remained frozen.
The journal had somehow become worse.
Far worse.
A city beneath the city.
People who might still be alive.
Something sleeping below the temple.
The old man slowly turned the final page.
The paper trembled in his hands.
The final entry consisted of only a few lines.
Short.
Rushed.
Terrified.
"The bells are ringing."
A pause.
"The door is opening."
Another.
"If anyone finds this journal—"
The handwriting suddenly broke apart.
Ink splattered across the page.
Several words became unreadable.
Only one sentence remained visible.
The final sentence Captain Edrik Hale had ever written.
The scholar read it aloud.
"Do not let it wake up."
Silence swallowed the library.
The words lingered in the air long after they were spoken.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Then—
A bell rang somewhere deep beneath the temple.
Once.
The sound echoed through the stone floor.
A second bell answered.
Far below.
A third followed.
And as every member of the expedition stood frozen inside the ancient library, they realized something horrifying.
The bells were getting closer.