The moment Silas vanished into the shadows, the silence that followed was worse than the fight. It wasn't peace—it was a breath before the next scream.
Kieran leaned against the wall, chest heaving, blood soaking into his side. His system buzzed quietly now, subroutines stabilizing just enough to keep him conscious.
[Override stabilized. Neural input regulated.]
[Cognitive Strain: 72% – Risk of Burnout.]
"Yeah," he muttered. "I feel it."
Elias stood a few paces ahead, his blade dripping with dark ichor, eyes fixed on the tunnel Silas had disappeared into. But it wasn't victory in his stance. It was waiting.
"They're not done," Elias said quietly.
"Silas?" Kieran asked.
"No," Elias replied. "Them."
A cold wind swept through the chamber—impossible, in a place buried deep underground. It carried with it a low, droning hum, like whispers layered atop one another.
Kieran turned, and the wall behind him rippled.
A black sigil had been carved into the stone—one that hadn't been there before. Symbols older than memory, shifting every time his eyes tried to focus.
[Unknown Source Detected.]
[System alert: Core signal compromised.]
[Foreign Intelligence Interface Attempt: Pending]
"What the hell is that?" Kieran rasped.
Elias didn't answer at first. Then: "A doorway. One that should've stayed closed."
And then it spoke.
Not in words. In thoughts. In echoes.
Kieran… come deeper.
He fell to his knees, clutching his head. "Make it stop—!"
Elias slammed a vial against Kieran's temple, forcing liquid fire down his throat. Pain and clarity rushed in equal measure.
Kieran gasped. "What the hell was that?"
"Focus serum," Elias said. "You're not ready for them yet."
Kieran pushed to his feet, trembling. "Who are 'they'?"
Elias looked at the sigil, jaw tight.
"The ones who built the Abyss," he said. "And they've noticed you."