Aden moved quickly, his breath steady despite the weight in his chest.
The blood trail was faint, dark streaks smeared across the stone floor, leading deeper into the temple ruins. Some of it had already dried. Whoever had left it behind had been dragged—but by what, or who, he still didn't know.
> Jonas was found outside.
But that didn't mean he had died outside.
Aden followed the trail, his steps careful. The deeper he went, the colder it became. The ruined hallways narrowed, the walls pressing in. No torches, no natural light. Only the dim glow of his own breath, forming mist in the stagnant air.
Then he saw it.
A door, or what was left of one—half-crushed stone, symbols carved into its surface.
Aden's fingers brushed over the markings, his skin tingling as he traced them. It wasn't the usual temple script. This was different. Older.
And in the center of it, carved with precision, was the sigil.
A black sun, a dagger piercing through it.
The same mark on the letter.
Aden's stomach twisted.
As soon as his fingers left the sigil, the air shifted.
A low hum pulsed through the stone. Aden stepped back, his hand immediately going to his dagger. He waited.
Silence.
Then…
A single faint chime, like a bell struck in the distance.
Aden's heartbeat slowed.
> That wasn't for me.
It wasn't meant to warn him.
It was meant to alert someone else.
"He's inside."
The voice was calm, steady. Unshaken by the news.
The others in the chamber stirred. Shadows shifted. Some hands tightened around weapons, while others remained still, waiting.
"The mark was triggered," the first voice continued. "He touched it."
No one spoke.
Then, finally, a response—soft, deliberate.
"Let him go deeper."
The decision was made. The watchers returned to silence.
They would not act yet.
Not until it was time.
Aden's Next Move
Aden exhaled slowly.
> That was a mistake.
He knew it the moment the chime had rung. Something had changed.
The ruins felt heavier now, the air pressing against him like an unseen weight. His instincts screamed at him to turn back.
But he didn't.
Instead, he did the only thing he could.
He stepped forward.
And deeper into the unknown.