Night had settled over the camp.

  Lamplight flickered against the canvas walls, casting shadows that danced with each gust of wind. The excavation sounds had faded, voices reduced to murmurs, tools silenced, the camp settling into an uneasy rest after the day’s discoveries.

  Inside Eldric’s tent, warmth pressed against the canvas walls. A brazier glowed in the corner, its coals breathing heat into the cramped space. Maps and diagrams covered the table, their edges weighted down by stones and ink bottles.

  Selis sat near the table, hands folded, posture straight but weary. Her brown hair caught the lamplight, pulled back in its usual braid. She had removed her cloak, revealing a gray tunic. Her blue eyes were half-closed, but behind them, her mind clearly churned through the day's impossibilities.

  Selene sat across from her, slumped against a stacked crate. Her satchel rested at her side. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her vision drifted beyond the tent walls, unfocused and distant, as though searching for something just out of reach. Her fingers twitched occasionally, unconsciously reaching toward the satchel before she caught herself and pulled back.

  Eldric stood near the brazier, one hand gripping the edge of the table. His eyes had dulled to something troubled. He hadn’t spoken since they returned from the Vault. His mouth worked silently, as though turning over thoughts he could not yet give voice to.

  The tent flap rustled.

  Corvan burst through, grinning despite the exhaustion evident in his movements, arms laden with a wooden crate that clinked dangerously with each step. Beyond him, the Emberveil painted the night sky, clouds of teal and amber drifting across the darkness.

  “Finished!” he announced, kicking the flap closed. The crate hit the ground with a thunk that made Selis wince. “Paperwork filed. Scout teams briefed. Tomorrow’s schedule set.” He gestured vaguely toward the night outside. “And the sky’s putting on quite a show.

  His forced cheer hung in the air like a challenge to the tent's heavy silence.

  He straightened, brushing dust from his sleeves, then gestured toward the crate. “And I liberated this from the supply tent. Figured we earned it. Or need it. Probably both.”

  Selis’s eyes narrowed. “Liberated?”

  “Requisitioned. For morale.” Corvan’s grin widened.

  Eldric’s sigh carried the weight of decades. “That is precisely what stealing is, Corvan.”

  “Details.” Corvan pried the lid open with more force than necessary. Glass bottles gleamed inside, packed in straw. He lifted one and held it up to the lamplight. Amber liquid caught the glow like molten gold. “Besides, it’s not stealing if it’s in service of… processing today’s discoveries.”

  Selis’s lips pressed together, fighting a smile. “I’m certain the Athenaeum has regulations against this.”

  "Then we'll drink quickly." Corvan uncorked the bottle with a soft pop and took a quick sniff. His nose wrinkled. "Ugh. This is awful. Perfect for tonight."

  Despite herself, Selis laughed, a short, surprised sound. “You’re utterly shameless.”

  “I prefer adaptable.” Corvan poured the amber liquid into tin cups, his movements careful despite his casual tone. He held one out to her. “Come on. One drink. We just made a major discovery in these ruins. We deserve this.”

  Selis took the cup, meeting Corvan’s eyes as she lifted it slightly. “One. And only one.”

  “See?” Corvan’s smile softened into something more genuine. “Even the followers of the Architect need a drink.”

  Eldric picked up his cup without comment, taking a slow sip. His expression remained impassive.

  Corvan turned toward Selene, bottle raised. “What about you? You look like you need this more than any of us.”

  Selene blinked, her eyes refocusing with visible effort. The pressure in her chest tightened. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just tired.”

  Corvan’s grin faded. He crouched beside her, setting the bottle down carefully. His voice dropped. “Selene, you’ve been staring at nothing ever since I walked into this sad tent. We should be celebrating. What happened here?”

  Selene frowned, impatience flickering across her face. “Nothing. I’m fine. Really.”

  Selis leaned forward, genuine concern breaking through her. “We all saw things today. If something specific is troubling you—”

  “I’m just tired,” Selene repeated, her tone sharp enough to cut. Then, softer, almost pleading, “It’s been a long day. That’s all. Please stop asking me.”

  Corvan held her gaze, then nodded slowly. He straightened and returned to his seat, lifting the bottle to take a drink.

  Eldric watched in silence, and Selene could feel him cataloguing every detail of her reactions.

  The conversation that followed felt forced. Corvan recounted the chaos of briefing the scout teams about the newly discovered chamber. Selis offered observations about what she had witnessed in the Vault. The warmth of the brazier should have been comforting, but instead it reminded Selene of the fire opal’s heat against her palm.

  The pulse in her chest matched the memory of that strange light. Behind her eyes, the red gaze of the figure lingered.

  She stood abruptly.

  Her hands shook as she opened her satchel, fingers closing around the pocket watch. The metal was warm, almost alive. She slipped it into the pocket of her gray-green coat, the weight comforting.

  “I’m going to check on Solva,” she said, her voice carefully neutral.

  Eldric’s concern sharpened. “Do you want company?”

  “No.” The word came out harder than she intended. She softened it. “I just need some air.”

  Corvan raised his bottle in a half-hearted salute. "Don't let her bite you."

  Selene managed a ghost of a smile and escaped through the tent flap.

  The night air hit her like cold water, sharp and clean. Above, the Emberveil painted the world in impossible colors, vast clouds of teal, gold, and violet shifting and breathing against the darkness. The beauty of it felt almost mocking after what she had seen below.

  Behind her, the forest whispered secrets as the wind threaded through its branches.

  She stood frozen for a moment, caught between the warmth of the tent and the vast unknown of the night.

  Then she walked toward the hitching post, her hand finding the pocket watch. She drew it out, holding it up to catch the nebula's light.

  The colors danced across its surface, rippling over brass and glass. The etchings along its edge caught the light, fracturing it into patterns that seemed almost like writing, almost like warnings.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  The sound was louder now, or perhaps the night was simply quieter.

  Selene turned the watch slowly. Her thumb traced the carved E on its back. For a moment, she let herself drown in it, the watch, the wind, the beauty of a world that suddenly held too many secrets.

  Then she lowered the watch and continued toward Solva.

  The gray mare stood patient in the darkness, ears swiveling at Selene's approach. Her coat caught the Emberveil's glow, transforming her into something otherworldly.

  Selene stopped beside her, reaching up with trembling fingers to stroke the horse's neck. Solva huffed softly, her breath forming small clouds in the cool air.

  "Hey, girl," Selene murmured, her voice cracking slightly. "You doing all right?"

  Solva leaned into the touch, nosing gently at Selene's shoulder.

  "I know," she whispered against the mare's neck, fingers tangling in the coarse mane. "I look terrible. Feel worse."

  Solva snorted softly, stamping one hoof.

  Selene huffed a broken laugh. “Thanks for the honesty. At least something’s still the same.”

  The mare shifted, settling her weight comfortably, standing guard against the night. Her ears swiveled, back and foward.

  For just a moment, the pressure in Selene’s chest eased.

  She stayed there letting Solva’s steady presence anchor her. The pocket watch ticked in her hand, counting moments that suddenly felt numbered.

  Above, the Emberveil shimmered in endless motion, beautiful and indifferent.

  And somewhere in the darkness between the trees, something watched. And waited.

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  Selene pressed her forehead against Solva's neck, the mare's warmth grounding her. The pocket watch ticked steadily in her hand.

  For a moment, the world felt still.

  Then Solva flinched.

  A subtle shift, weight redistributing, ears flicking. Then her head jerked up, nostrils flaring. Muscles coiled beneath Selene’s hand.

  “Easy,” Selene murmured, stroking the mare’s neck. “Easy, girl.”

  But Solva wasn’t listening.

  Sharp, shallow breaths. Ears flat. Hooves shuffling. A low rumble, half snort, half whimper.

  The air had changed.

  No wind. Muffled sounds. The world holding its breath.

  Selene's pulse quickened. "Solva, what—"

  She saw it.

  At the forest edge, where three pines stood in a row, their shadows tangled beneath the Emberveil's glow.

  Selene’s eyes widened.

  The same figure she had seen before.

  The eyes remained unchanged. Red. Luminous. Glowing.

  It smiled.

  Not cruel. Not kind. Just... knowing.

  Selene's hand tightened on the watch. Her heart hammered.

  The figure turned.

  Slow. Deliberate.

  It stepped into the forest.

  “No,” Selene whispered.

  Her feet moved before thought.

  She shoved the watch into her pocket and ran.

  Behind her, Solva’s distressed whinny cut through the night.

  Past supply tents. Past scaffolding. Past the edge of lamplight.

  The tree line swallowed her.

  Darkness closed in beneath the pines. The Emberveil’s glow barely penetrated, fractured into thin beams through the canopy. Cold air burned her lungs.

  Selene stumbled to a stop, breathing hard.

  Ahead, barely visible, the figure moved.

  Not running. Not hurrying.

  Walking. Knowing she would follow.

  “Wait!” Her voice cracked. “Wait—”

  It didn’t stop.

  She kept running after it.

  Branches clawed at her sleeves. Roots snagged her boots. The world became shadow and shifting light, teal and violet painting everything in impossible hues.

  Always just ahead, the figure walked.

  Selene burst through the trees into open air.

  She stumbled, chest heaving, breath misting.

  A clearing opened before her, perfectly circular, deliberately carved from the forest. At its center stood an ancient tree, its trunk gnarled and wide, branches bare and spreading like skeletal ribs. Pale earth lay bare beneath it, no grass, gleaming faintly under the Emberveil.

  At the tree’s base, waiting, stood the figure.

  It turned slowly.

  Soft gold hair shimmered. The coat hung still, untouched by the wind that tugged at Selene’s own. Crimson eyes locked onto hers.

  Selene’s legs trembled. Ragged gasps tore from her chest.

  “What do you want?” Her voice was raw. “What are you?”

  Silence.

  It watched.

  And waited.

  "I feel it," she said, voice breaking. "This weight in my chest. What is it? What did you do?"

  Still nothing.

  It began to move.

  Circling her. Silent steps on pale earth.

  The weight in Selene's chest surged.

  Crushing. Overwhelming. The sky collapsing onto her shoulders.

  She gasped.

  She collapsed to the ground

  She hit the ground hard, hands bracing against earth. Desperate gulps. Air too thick for her lungs.

  The figure continued circling, passing behind her.

  She tried to look up. Her body wouldn't respond. The weight pressed harder, forcing her head down, spine bowing.

  Vision blurred.

  The pocket watch pulsed, erratic, matching her heartbeat.

  The figure stopped behind her, facing the camp.

  Silence.

  Then it spoke.

  Soft. Familiar. Her voice.

  “When she weeps in the ashes, you will choose—truth or silence.”

  Selene’s breath hitched. “What—”

  A roar split the night.

  The weight vanished.

  Air rushed into her lungs, sudden, sharp. She gasped, her head snapping up.

  Beyond the trees, toward the direction of the camp, massive columns of fire erupted skyward. Flames twisted like living things, painting the darkness in orange and gold.

  Heat slammed into her.

  She threw a hand up, stumbling backward. The air burned against her skin, singeing her breath. Her shoes scraped against the pale earth as she caught herself.

  Her heart stopped.

  “No,” she whispered.

  The heat was unbearable, like standing too close to a forge.

  She turned, gasping.

  The figure stood unchanged, red eyes reflecting the distant flames.

  It smiled.

  Then stepped backward.

  Not into trees. Not shadow.

  Into nothing.

  Air rippled where it stood, heat-haze shimmering. Then it was gone. Empty space.

  Selene stared, breath ragged.

  The weight returned. Steady.

  What just happend?

  The thought struck like a blade.

  That wasn’t me—

  No.

  No time to think.

  She turned and ran.

  Through trees. Toward the camp. Toward fire.

  Selene crashed through the forest. Branches whipped across her face, tearing skin. Blood ran warm down her cheek. She didn't slow.

  Orange light ahead.

  She burst from the trees.

  The camp was burning.

  Flames climbed scaffolding in spiraling torrents, devouring timber and rope. Tents collapsed into burning heaps. Smoke and ash choked the air.

  People ran everywhere, screaming, stumbling, dragging others through the chaos. A researcher staggered past, robes aflame, face twisted in agony. Someone screamed a name, over and over, raw and desperate.

  The heat was unbearable, like molten iron against her skin. Embers rained down, hissing as they struck the earth.

  Then she saw Solva.

  The mare thrashed on the ground near the hitching post. Flames crawled across her flank and neck. Her screams cut through the roar raw with agony.

  “No no no—”

  Selene ran toward her. The heat drove her back. Too close. Too fierce.

  Solva's movements slowed.

  Legs kicking weakly. Wet, rasping gasps.

  Then stillness.

  Selene's legs gave out beneath her.

  Shadows moved, impossibly fast blurs. Then another. Another.

  Tall, skeletal figures darted through flames. They didn't burn. Didn't slow. Simply moved like smoke through chaos.

  Panic clawed up her throat

  Fire erupted near supply tents, throwing bodies skyward. The shockwave slammed her sideways. She hit hard, shoulder screaming.

  She pushed up, coughing, gasping.

  Eldric's tent.

  Collapsing.

  Canvas walls buckled as flames consumed the frame.

  The tent fell into burning heap.

  No movement. No voices.

  Nothing.

  "Eldric—"

  A whisper.

  She staggered forward, legs weak, vision blurring.

  No. Please—

  Her hand found her coat pocket. The pocket watch—something solid, something real.

  It slipped.

  The watch fell with a soft clink, glass catching the firelight before rolling into the dirt.

  Selene didn’t notice. Her eyes locked on the grand ruin entrance.

  Standing there, still amid the chaos, was the figure.

  Crimson eyes reflecting the inferno.

  It turned and stepped into the darkness of the descent.

  Selene ran.

  Past burning tents. Past screaming. Past bodies.

  Heat blistered skin. Smoke filled lungs. Couldn't see. Couldn't think.

  Just ran.

  The entrance loomed, a gaping mouth ringed by fire. The timber framework groaned, beams cracking and splintering under the heat.

  She didn’t stop.

  The elevator platform swayed on its cables. The flames hadn’t reached it yet, but the wood had begun to warp, ropes smoking as the heat climbed.

  She grabbed the railing and stepped on.

  “Selene!”

  She turned.

  Selis stood at the entrance edge, covered with ash, face pale and wide. She stumbled forward, breathing hard.

  "What are you—" Selis's voice broke. "We have to go—"

  "She's down there." Hollow voice.

  "What?"

  "I saw her. She went down." Selene's hands tightened on the railing. "I have to follow."

  "Selene, no—"

  Selene reached for the winch brake.

  Selis's eyes widened. She ran forward and threw herself onto the platform just as Selene released it.

  Cables hissed.

  The platform lurched downward.

  Fire swallowed the world above.

  The platform plummeted into darkness.

  Firelight above shrank rapidly. The roar faded to cable hiss and stressed wood groaning.

  Selene gripped the railing, knuckles white. Short, ragged gasps. Ash streaked her face. Blood dripped from her cheek onto her coat.

  Selis braced opposite, eyes locked on Selene.

  "Selene, what are you—"

  The cable snapped.

  Sharp. Metallic. Like breaking bone.

  The platform dropped.

  Stomach lurching. Feet leaving floor. Wind screaming past.

  Selis screamed.

  Selene couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Just motion, noise, certainty of death.

  Then something caught them.

  Violent jerk. Selene's grip tore free. She flew backward into the railing.

  Pain exploded through her left arm—sharp and blinding.

  She screamed.

  White-hot agony from wrist to shoulder. Couldn't see. Couldn't breathe. Just pain.

  Across from her, Selis hit hard. Her right leg twisted beneath her.

  Crack.

  Selis's scream joined hers.

  Above, something groaned.

  Tearing fabric. Metal bending.

  Tension released.

  The platform dropped again—slower. Weightless. Drifting.

  Four meters.

  Thud.

  Impact rattled through bones. Selene collapsed, vision swimming, left arm cradled against her chest. Each breath sent fresh waves through her shoulder.

  Broken.

  Selis lay crumpled, gasping, face twisted. Right leg bent unnaturally. Hands trembling as she tried to push up.

  "What—" Whispered. Shaking. "What was that?"

  Selene didn't answer.

  She pushed up with her good arm, breath hissing through teeth. World tilting, vision darkening at edges.

  Ahead, at the passage entrance, the figure stood.

  Red eyes glowing. It turned and walked into darkness.

  "You—," Selene breathed.

  She stumbled off the platform. Legs weak. Broken arm hanging useless. Every movement sent fresh agony, but she didn't stop.

  "Selene!" Selis's voice cracked. "Selene, stop!"

  But Selene didn't stop. She ran.

  Pain exploded with every step. Tears blurred vision.

  The figure moved ahead, always just beyond reach, deeper into the ruins.

  Behind her, Selis tried to stand. Her leg gave out, and she collapsed with a cry, tears streaming down her face.

  "Selene," she sobbed. "Please—"

  But Selene was gone.

  Through the passage she ran, her broken arm clutched to her chest. Ahead of her, the figure moved on, soft gold hair shimmering, never hurrying, never slowing.

  Her foot caught on loose stone. She stumbled. Her broken arm slammed into the wall.

  She screamed, raw and broken, and fell to her knees. Pain whited out everything. But she got up.

  Kept moving.

  The passage twisted deeper. She didn't hesitate.

  Behind her, Selis dragged herself forward, inch by agonizing inch. Wet, sobbing gasps. Blood smearing stone where her broken leg scraped.

  "Selene," barely a whisper now. "Please..."

  But Selene couldn’t hear her. Or perhaps she no longer cared.

  The familiar descent opened before her, a narrow corridor leading down to the chamber. The air grew colder, heavier, carrying an ancient bitterness.

  Selene stumbled down the steps, her broken arm screaming with every movement. Tears streaked her face, each sob half-suppressed.

  She reached the bottom.

  The archway entrance loomed ahead. She stepped through.

  The vast chamber opened again before her, untouched by flame or chaos.

  At the heart, the altar pulsed crimson.

  Beside it stood the figure.

  But changing.

  White hair lengthening, flowing like liquid silver. Coat dissolving to light.

  The figure stood naked.

  The body was flawless, its skin gleaming from within.

  Beautiful.

  Selene stumbled forward, disbelief crashing through her.

  The figure turned.

  Smiled.

  Stepped into the altar's hollow.

  Crimson light surged.

  The fire opal blazed—molten gold, red, orange, violet, blue—colors bleeding into one another, flooding the chamber with impossible radiance.

  The chamber shuddered.

  The carved figures began to weep.

  Blood streamed from stone faces, thick and dark and viscous, pouring from hollow eyes, tracing carved cheeks, pooling at the bases of the columns.

  The blood spread.

  It flowed outward from the columns in thin, deliberate rivulets, creeping across the floor until it formed a shallow, glassy sheet. The surface gleamed like molten night turned solid, a dark mirror reflecting the altar’s glow, the veils, the vast curve of the dome above.

  Then the oculus widened. Darkness bled through in silence as something vast stirred beyond it.

  Watching.

  Veils between columns rippled.

  Selene fell to her knees.

  Blood splashed where she struck, crimson droplets scattering before settling. Weight crushed her chest. She gasped, her broken arm collapsing beneath her. Pain and pressure pressing until her ribs threatened to crack.

  Behind her, up the passage, Selis dragged herself to the archway.

  She stopped. Breath catching. Eyes wide with horror and wonder.

  Blood streaked her face. Spectacles crooked, one lens cracked, crimson seeping through fractures. Broken leg useless. But she stared, transfixed.

  The figures wept blood. Floor gleaming crimson. Oculus breathing darkness.

  At the altar's base, against obsidian, reflected in blood, lay the broken sword.

  Selene rose slowly. Broken arm hanging. Each step agony, but she didn't stop.

  Crossed the chamber. Blood rippling beneath her feet.

  Reached the platform.

  The sword lay before her, corroded and broken, unchanged.

  No hand reached to stop her.

  No voice called her back.

  She knelt one last time.

  Her good hand lifted.

  Fingers hovered above the hilt.

  She touched it.