Zara had spent her life running—from the past, from the voices in her mind, from the memories that refused to stay buried.
But now, something was watching her.
Not the Circle.
Not the Hollowed.
Something worse.
The night stretched thin across Aeroth's broken skyline, each breath of wind threading through the ruins like fingers searching for what had been lost. The city had been restless ever since the gate had cracked open beneath the Arcanist Quarter. Something had changed—something old had stirred, pulling at the fabric of reality in ways Zara couldn't quite understand.
She felt it in her pulse.
In the mark on her skin.
In the hollowed silence just before the whispers began.
"We need to keep moving," Noel muttered, his stance sharp, his breath measured. He hadn't let go of his blades since the ruins had screamed, since the black veins had coiled against the streets like Aeroth itself was breathing.
Zara exhaled slowly, watching the city beyond the alley's exit. "They're watching us."
Noel stiffened. "Who?"
She didn't answer.
Because she didn't know.
The shadows shifted.
Not just in the way the lamplight flickered.
Not just in the way the wind moved the debris scattered across the empty roads.
The darkness bent, curling inward in ways it shouldn't.
Something was inside it.
Zara tightened her grip on the dagger.
The city had changed ever since she reached into the fracture.
And now, something was reaching back.
She stepped forward, ignoring the unease crawling up her spine, ignoring the deepening chill beneath her skin.
Noel cursed under his breath, keeping close, moving in sync with her—always ready, always calculating. He had survived Aeroth long enough to know when something wasn't right.
And nothing about this was right.
The alley narrowed as they moved deeper, every shadow clinging to the edges of the broken walls, refusing to shift. The buildings ahead loomed taller, their silhouettes jagged against the dim glow of the distant fires smoldering in the heart of the city.
Then—
A sound.
Not a voice.
Not footsteps.
A breath.
Deep. Hollow. Close.
Zara stopped.
Noel did too.
The silence stretched thin.
And from the far end of the alley—
Something stepped forward.
Tall.
Cloaked.
Shifting like liquid shadow wrapped in human form.
Zara's pulse hammered against her ribs.
She had seen that shape before.
Not in the streets.
Not in the tower.
In the fracture.
Her muscles tensed, forcing herself to stay still, forcing herself to keep the dagger steady, despite the way her hand was shaking.
Noel's breathing slowed, blades angled slightly, ready.
The figure stood there, watching them.
No movement.
No sound.
Just silence.
Then—
It spoke.
"You should not have remembered."
The words did not belong in this world.
They scraped against the air, twisting into something that did not sound like speech, but something deeper, something woven into the fabric of Aeroth itself.
A warning.
A threat.
A truth.
Zara forced herself to speak. "You're part of it, aren't you?"
The figure exhaled softly.
Not in breath.
In absence.
"You have seen what should never be seen," it murmured. "And now, it will see you."
Zara's grip tightened around the dagger.
The mark on her forearm burned.
Noel shifted beside her, a silent curse on his lips. "Zara, we have to move."
But the figure took a step closer.
And the city bent with it.
Reality twisted.
The walls of the alley breathed—the stone shifted like Aeroth itself was alive, twisting against its own existence.
Zara stepped back.
Her pulse thundered.
The dagger screamed in her grip.
Because Aeroth was watching.
And whatever had been buried beneath its streets was not sleeping anymore.
***
The city twisted around them.
Not physically.
Not in the way the ruins collapsed and crumbled.
But in the way that Aeroth was waking up.
Zara could feel it beneath her feet, pulsing through the veins of the streets, threading through the cracks in the stone like something long buried but never truly dead.
The shadowed figure hadn't moved since it spoke, hadn't shifted from its position at the end of the alleyway. But its presence was suffocating, pulling at reality, bending the air itself.
"You should not have remembered."
The words echoed in her mind, crawling against the edges of her thoughts like an infection spreading through bone.
She forced herself to breathe, gripping the dagger tighter.
"You're part of the Gate, aren't you?" she said, voice steady despite the storm raging in her pulse.
The figure exhaled softly, the sound distorted, wrong—like something attempting speech but failing to shape it into something truly human.
"I am part of nothing," it murmured. "But the Gate is part of you."
Zara's stomach tightened.
Noel shifted beside her, stance solid, his blades angled precisely in defense. "We need to go, Zara."
She didn't move.
Couldn't.
Something about the figure was familiar, even though she knew she had never seen it before.
Not truly.
Only in fragments.
Only in pieces of memory she had lost and stolen back.
The mark on her arm burned hotter.
The city pulsed harder.
The streets whispered beneath her breath.
Noel tensed, sensing the shift in the air before she did. "Get ready."
Then—
The figure moved.
Not like a person stepping forward.
Not like something shifting within space.
It bled through the alley, flowing like ink poured into water, like something that existed without a true shape, like the darkness itself had decided to walk.
Zara reacted instantly.
She moved on instinct, lunging forward, dagger humming in her grip. The blade sliced through the air, fast, precise—deadly.
It hit nothing.
The shadow wasn't solid.
Wasn't real in the way that living things should be.
The figure twisted, the darkness around it stretching, bending in ways Zara couldn't comprehend.
"You cannot fight what has already consumed you," it whispered.
Zara's heart slammed against her ribs.
Noel struck from her flank, moving like lightning, his twin blades flashing against the air as he aimed for the figure's center.
His weapons did not touch flesh.
Did not slice through blood or bone.
The figure was absence.
A wound in reality.
A piece of something that had already swallowed Aeroth whole.
Zara stepped back, breath sharp, pulse hammering.
This wasn't a fight.
This wasn't a battle she could win in the way she had won against the Hollowed, against the Circle's executioners.
This was something else.
Something worse.
Something that had been waiting for her since the beginning.
The whispers from beneath the streets grew louder, curling against her skin, pressing into her mind, dragging through her breath like threads sewn into a broken tapestry.
"You will see soon, Echo-bearer," the shadowed figure murmured. "You will see what you have always been meant to remember."
Zara clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stay standing despite the way the mark on her forearm burned.
Noel reached for her, pulling her back sharply, his voice a low command. "Zara, we have to move."
She finally listened.
She turned, pushing herself away from the alley, away from the figure, away from the city that was watching her.
Because Aeroth wasn't just waking up anymore.
It was calling her.
And soon, she would have no choice but to answer.