The ruins lay in eerie silence, the weight of forgotten history pressing down on Selene like an unseen force. She sat on the cold stone, her breath still uneven, the vision echoing in her mind. The woman—her presence—had felt too real. Too personal.
Asrael knelt beside her, his golden eyes searching her face, his usual mask of indifference slipping just enough to reveal a hint of concern. "You're still shaking."
Selene exhaled sharply, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I'm fine. Just—whatever that was, it wasn't just a vision. It was a warning."
He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Then we should start listening."
🔥 UNRAVELING THE MYSTERY 🔥
The archway loomed over them, its symbols now dim and silent. Selene pressed her palm against the stone again, but nothing stirred. Whatever power had awakened, it had retreated, slipping back into the shadows like a whispered secret.
Asrael stood and dusted off his coat. "We need answers. And since your magic seems to like playing cryptic games, we're going to have to find them the hard way."
Selene scoffed, shooting him a tired glare. "You mean by digging around ancient ruins like grave robbers?"
"I prefer 'archaeologists with poor decision-making skills.'" He smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. His shoulders were tight, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his blade. He was expecting trouble. Waiting for it.
They moved deeper into the ruins, stepping carefully over cracked stone and weathered carvings. The deeper they went, the colder the air became. The scent of damp earth mixed with something older—something almost metallic. Selene shivered, the back of her neck prickling.
They were being watched.
Then she saw it—a half-buried pedestal, its surface covered in the same ancient script she had spoken. The markings pulsed faintly, as if they were breathing.
"This might tell us something," she murmured, brushing away the dirt with shaky fingers.
Asrael's gaze darkened. "Or it might wake something worse."
🔥 HEAVEN EXECUTIONER'S ARRIVE 🔥
The first sign of trouble was the whisper of wind that shouldn't have been there. The second was the distant hum of power, growing stronger by the second.
Asrael stiffened. "We need to move. Now."
Selene barely had time to register the urgency in his voice before a blinding light split the air. Three figures emerged from the darkness beyond the ruins—clad in celestial armor, their eyes burning like dying stars.
The executioners had found them.
One of them—a warrior with silver scars tracing his face—stepped forward. His presence was heavy, suffocating, like a storm rolling in. "Asrael. You've run long enough."
Selene instinctively shifted closer to Asrael, her body coiled with tension. "You know them?"
His jaw clenched, his wings twitching. "I used to."
The lead executioner tilted his head, his gaze piercing. "This doesn't have to end in blood. Come back. Give up the girl. You know what she is."
Selene's stomach twisted. "Excuse me?"
Asrael's wings flared slightly, a subconscious move of defiance. "She's not what you think."
"She spoke the old tongue," the second warrior cut in, his voice sharp. "That means she's dangerous. You should know that better than anyone."
Asrael exhaled slowly, his golden eyes unwavering. "And yet, I'm still standing here. Not handing her over."
The leader's expression hardened. "Then you leave us no choice."
🔥 THE CHOICE 🔥
Selene's pulse pounded as the executioners reached for their weapons. Every instinct screamed at her to fight, to run, to do something.
But Asrael didn't move.
Instead, he did something she didn't expect.
He stepped forward.
"Wait," he said, voice calm but firm. "You want to kill her because of something she doesn't understand. Something I don't even fully understand. That's a mistake. And you know it."
The executioners hesitated. Just for a second. But it was enough.
Selene tensed, feeling the air shift. The ruins had gone silent. The wind had stilled.
And somewhere, in the unseen corners of the night—something else was watching.