The air inside the fortress was thick, oppressive, like wading through a dream too heavy to wake from. The halls stretched endlessly into blackness, and every step Kaen and Lira took echoed back at them a thousandfold.
Strange carvings lined the walls—twisting shapes, half symbols, half warnings. Kaen felt them pulling at his mind, urging him to remember things he had never known.
"Stay close," he whispered.
Lira nodded tightly. Her dagger was already in her hand, though Kaen doubted steel would help them in this place.
The further they moved, the louder the whispers became. Faint at first—then clearer.
"Return…"
"Awaken…"
"Blood of the Firstborn…"
Kaen staggered, clutching his head. His vision blurred. For a moment, he saw not the dark halls—but a city, ancient and burning. Towers collapsing into seas of ash. Figures cloaked in flame and sorrow.
He gasped and fell to one knee.
Lira caught him. "Kaen! Focus!"
He shook his head violently, forcing the vision away. The pendant at his chest pulsed weakly, as if trying to shield him.
"We're close," Kaen rasped.
"To what?"
Before he could answer, a loud crack split the air. The stone beneath their feet fractured, and from the cracks poured a dark mist—alive, seething.
From the mist rose a figure.
It was no Ash Herald. It was something worse.
Tall, draped in flowing tatters of shadow, its face hidden behind a cracked, eyeless mask. In its hand, it held a broken staff, from which hung dozens of silver chains.
"The Gatekeeper," Kaen whispered, the name surfacing in his mind like a nightmare.
The Gatekeeper lifted its head. Its voice rumbled through the hall like an avalanche.
"You bear the scent of the Betrayer's blood. You… are not welcome."
Lira moved to stand between Kaen and the creature, her hand trembling only slightly. "We don't want trouble," she said carefully. "We just want to pass."
The Gatekeeper laughed—a sound like stone splitting under ice.
"None pass. None leave. You are bound, as it was written."
Kaen rose shakily to his feet. He could feel the embers in his veins again, stirring hotter now. His mother's voice echoed faintly in his mind.
Stand.
He took a step forward.
"I didn't ask for permission," Kaen said.
The Gatekeeper's chains rattled, and then, with an inhuman screech, it attacked—
Chains whipping through the air like living serpents.
Kaen moved instinctively. His hand flared with light—a raw, unstable force—and he caught the chain mid-swing. The impact rattled his bones, but he held firm.
The Gatekeeper recoiled, hissing.
Lira hurled a dagger straight into the misty form, but it passed harmlessly through. "Figures," she muttered grimly.
Kaen gritted his teeth. "We need to find its core!"
Together, they fought through the darkness, every heartbeat a battle. Chains lashed. Mist clawed. But Kaen's strength grew with every strike—feeding on the very ancient power that sought to bind him.
Finally, Kaen saw it—a small shard of light hidden beneath the Gatekeeper's mask.
"There!" he shouted.
With a roar, Kaen launched himself forward, slamming his cracked pendant into the shard.
The fortress trembled.
The Gatekeeper screamed—a terrible, soul-tearing sound—as it disintegrated into a burst of black mist.
Silence fell once more.
Kaen dropped to one knee, panting. Lira rushed to his side.
"You good?" she asked.
He nodded weakly. "Better than him."
They rose together, staring down the endless, dark hallway ahead.
"Whatever lies beyond," Kaen said, "it's waiting for us."
Lira tightened her grip on his arm.
"Then let's make it wait a little longer," she said with a smirk.
Together, they stepped deeper into the heart of the fortress, wh
ere embers burned unseen, and the echoes of forgotten gods still whispered through the stone.