The streets of Ashreign had never been kind.But tonight, they were something worse—hungry.
Cassiel ran ahead, leading the charge, Ilyan slung limply over his back.Behind him, Bastion smashed a shadow-creature's malformed skull into the cobblestones with the haft of his axe. Mirae moved like a blade of light, her twin daggers carving arcs through the writhing dark.Elior whispered spells under his breath, lines of molten script curling from his fingertips, setting barriers that cracked and smoked under the pressure of the chasing horde.
But they were losing ground.
Every corner turned, every broken bridge crossed, only seemed to call more of the things.The deeper they plunged into Ashreign's underbelly, the less human the city became. Walls oozed; streets shivered; doors blinked open like yawning mouths.
"We're boxed in!" Mirae shouted.
"No," Elior snapped, eyes darting. "Not yet."
Cassiel's mind raced.Ilyan stirred once, coughing weakly into his shoulder.
"Left...," the wounded man rasped. "Through the bleeding statue..."
Cassiel didn't question.
He pivoted sharply left, boots skidding over cracked marble, leading the others toward a decrepit courtyard.At its center stood the thing Ilyan had spoken of—a massive stone angel, its wings melted into viscous streams of crimson.The statue wept real blood, thick and glistening, pooling into a wide basin at its feet.
"The hell is this?" Bastion growled, coming up short.
"Portal," Ilyan whispered. "Just trust me."
Cassiel didn't hesitate.
He stepped into the basin, wading through blood up to his knees, until his hand touched the angel's heart.
The stone shifted.Reality buckled.With a groan that sounded like an entire graveyard sighing at once, the basin collapsed downward—revealing a hidden stairway spiraling into darkness.
"In!" Cassiel barked.
The others followed without protest, sliding into the blood-slicked stairwell just as the first of the shadow-things burst into the courtyard, shrieking in disappointment.
They emerged several minutes later into a forgotten sector of Ashreign—a district where the buildings leaned together like drunks conspiring secrets.Above, high bridges webbed the sky, connecting broken towers like the veins of some great diseased organ.
The group moved quickly, Cassiel scouting ahead while Mirae checked on Ilyan's worsening condition.
"He's burning up," she said tightly. "And losing blood fast."
"We can't stay out in the open," Elior warned. "Even this far, they'll track us."
Cassiel's gaze caught on something—a crumbling old bell tower, half-swallowed by creeping vines.
"There," he said.
The tower was not empty.It had been claimed by an order long dead, its walls carved with desperate prayers and mad warnings. Dust choked the air, and somewhere high above, an ancient bell swung lazily on a breeze that no longer existed.
They fortified as best they could.Bastion jammed broken pews against the door. Mirae set traps along the stair. Elior warded the windows with runes that shimmered weakly.
In the tower's hollow center, Cassiel laid Ilyan down onto a slab of broken stone, careful not to jostle him more than necessary.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
They just listened—to the wheezing breaths of the wounded stranger, to the distant, eager howls of the city outside.
It was Mirae who broke the silence.
"We saved your life," she said to Ilyan, voice sharp. "You owe us answers."
Ilyan cracked one eye open.Despite the fever sweat coating his skin, his gaze was lucid. Wary. And very, very tired.
"I don't even know what questions you want answered," he said hoarsely.
Cassiel crouched down.
"Start with who's chasing you."
Ilyan smiled, bitter and small.
"Everyone."
Cassiel didn't flinch. "Then why?"
A pause.Then Ilyan said, very softly:
"Because I remember things I shouldn't."
Elior leaned in slightly. "What kinds of things?"
"The cities before the Eclipse," Ilyan murmured, voice threading into a rasp. "What they really were. What they tried to bury."
The group exchanged glances.
The Eclipse was a myth—an old world swallowed in a night that never ended, reshaped into the ash-ruined domains they now lived in.Most people spoke of it with weary cynicism.Others pretended it had never happened at all.
But Ilyan spoke of it like a man who had walked its burning streets.
"You're saying you were there?" Mirae asked, skepticism edging her tone.
Ilyan gave a broken chuckle.
"Not... exactly."
The tower shuddered slightly. Somewhere above, the bell groaned again.
Cassiel tightened his jaw.
"Enough riddles," he said. "Why should we trust you?"
Ilyan's eyes sharpened.
"You shouldn't."
The honesty in his voice was a slap in itself.
"But you'll need me anyway," he added, smile turning bitter. "Because the city's only just begun to wake up. And you're going to need someone who knows how to survive it."
Another beat of silence.
Then Bastion sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I hate when the crazy ones make sense."
Mirae crossed her arms.
"Fine," she said. "You live for now."
Elior nodded grimly. "But the second you endanger us—"
"I'll be dead before you finish the sentence," Ilyan said dryly.
Cassiel stood.
"For now, we rest."
The group settled into uneasy watch shifts, the silence of the tower settling like a second skin.
Cassiel took first watch.He leaned against the broken archway, locket thrumming faintly against his chest.
Outside, the city breathed in slow, fetid waves.
And somewhere far below, deeper in the guts of Ashreign, something else was waking.
Something that had been waiting.