Morning in this foreign world did not arrive with light.
Only silence gradually softened, like a shadow loosening its grip. In that cave—called a shelter by some, a trap by others—the children of man slowly stirred.
None of them had truly slept. Only bodies laid still, waiting for time to pass.
Cael opened his eyes earlier than the rest. He hadn't closed them the entire night. The compass in his hand had glowed briefly—a faint red like embers—then faded once more.
"Are you showing the way," he whispered to the object, "or merely playing with me?"
From another corner, the sound of rustling. Some students were waking up, immediately occupying themselves—checking their packs, brewing leftover potions, and sharing water from the altar's pool they had discovered.
Liora approached Cael.
"You know, not all of us can endure silence like this."
Cael glanced at her, then returned his gaze to the rune.
"Then what should we do? Speak without direction? Act without purpose?"
"Better that than waiting in silence for something to crawl out of the dark."
Their eyes met. It wasn't an argument, more like two thoughts crossing—never colliding.
---
Not far from them, Reinald and two other students, Gai and Venny, were examining cracks in the cave wall that led to another passage. They found faint carvings on the stone—a broken circle with strange markings.
"Is this… part of the altar?" asked Gai.
"Maybe its circulation path. But it's like it was cut off," Reinald replied, comparing it to the altar's symbol.
Suddenly, Venny let out a small scream. Her hand was bleeding.
"I… I didn't touch anything. But—"
Everyone turned toward her. Blood dripped from Venny's palm onto the stone floor. But strangely, the drops vanished upon contact—absorbed into the earth.
---
Cael and Liora came. Cael stared at the ground, then examined the rune carvings.
"They're… looking for a crack."
"Who?" asked Reinald.
"Something buried beneath the altar. Or rather… a being trapped, trying to open a path through us."
Liora muttered,
"So we're not guests. We're tools."
Cael nodded slowly.
"And blood is the currency they understand."
---
Amid their uncertainty, the altar suddenly trembled. The central stone glowed briefly—flickering, then went dark again. The compass in Cael's hand responded, its needle shifting.
"It's pointing… downward," he muttered.
"What do you mean 'downward'?"
"There's a space beneath this altar. Something waiting. And these cracks… they're signs the seal is weakening."
They all exchanged glances.
"Then… what do we do?"
Cael stood, meeting each of their eyes.
"We study the rune before this place becomes our grave."
---
On the other side of the altar, the hidden being remained silent. But its body was changing. Not its form—but its presence. It spread slowly like poison, eroding the boundary between its world and theirs.
There was no need to rush.
Those above would loosen the chains themselves. With blood. With emotion. With ignorance.
And when the time came, it only needed to wait for the right vessel.
Night had not truly ended. Even time itself seemed nameless in this world. But their heartbeats—the teenagers from a lost world—kept pulsing, measuring time with anxiety and hunger.
**
The cave remained quiet. Some students gathered around a small fire built by Liora and a few skilled in alchemy. A hot brew of local herbs boiled in a metal pot—bitter, but enough to stave off hunger for a while.
"I can't take this anymore," muttered a student named Ferren.
"If this keeps up, we'll just die waiting."
"Shut up, at least we're not thirsty," Venny snapped back.
"You could've died in the desert."
They began to bicker quietly. Not out of hatred, but because mental strain was starting to crack their spirits.
Cael sat a bit apart. His eyes weren't on the fire, or the others. He kept staring at the rune carvings, his hand drawing patterns on the ground. None of them knew that Cael had memorized—down to the last stroke—every rune on the altar since day one.
Reinald approached him. "You seem to know more than any of us, yet you explain nothing."
"Half-formed knowledge only breeds panic," Cael replied flatly.
"Besides, I don't understand it all myself."
Reinald sighed. "But we need direction. You… you're kind of our center now."
Cael didn't answer immediately. He gazed at the cracks along the cave wall—more and more, they felt less like breaks, and more like living veins. Pulsing, barely visible.
**
Suddenly, a student screamed.
Everyone froze. Cael and Reinald sprang to their feet. The sound came from a narrow corridor near the altar. They rushed there and found Jesse, one of the quiet ones, trembling. Beneath his feet, a rune glowed faintly.
"I… I just touched the wall… and I heard a voice…"
Cael quickly pulled him back. But before he could ask more, the altar shimmered again. This time, a faint whisper echoed—words in an unknown tongue.
Liora appeared behind them. "That's… the same voice I heard last night."
"They're trying to speak," Cael said softly.
"Or perhaps to lure us."
**
That night, after the tension subsided, they gathered to discuss.
"We can't stay here," said Gai. "But we also can't leave. That compass…" he pointed to Cael's hand, "…hasn't shown the way."
"It's not just a compass," Cael replied. "It reacts to the altar's energy. But I believe… it also responds to the will of the being below."
"You sure?"
"I'm not. But one thing's certain… they're waiting for us to act. Maybe to break the seal. Maybe to offer someone."
Silence fell.
"So who will be the sacrifice?" Ferren muttered, half-joking, half-afraid.
**
Then something strange happened.
One side of the altar began to change color. A previously dead section now glowed faintly, revealing a stone gate hidden in the rear wall.
Reinald approached cautiously. "That… wasn't there before."
Cael looked deeply at it. "Because that gate wasn't opened… it was allowed to be seen."
**
Murmurs spread among the students. Hope and fear blended into one.
But just then, the ground gave a slight tremor. Almost imperceptible. Yet Cael felt it like the breath of something beneath—something not yet awake, but already dreaming.
And from behind the altar's crack, a pair of eyes peeked in silence.
Not attacking.
Not yet.
It was still waiting for them to touch the wrong boundary.
The night had long passed, but in that nameless cave, time had lost its meaning.
What remained were heavy breaths, blank stares, and hope that began to decay.
The cracks widened—not only on the altar wall, but within the hearts of each young soul trapped between two worlds. Between man and spirit. Between life and illusion.
And down below—beneath the ancient altar that breathed the scent of a forgotten age—the being remained still.
Waiting.
Watching.
Weaving riddles in whispers.
While the students, unknowingly, had begun moving to a rhythm not of their own making.
A silent dance toward something far greater than themselves.
Something they might never understand—
Or control.
Yet in that hush, one truth became certain:
The gate had shown itself.
But the price to open it…
Had yet to be spoken.