— We need that temple, — Trey said as the smoke from the distant fire rose above the trees.
— You have no idea what you're getting into, — Kaira shook her head. — These places aren't protected. Magic doesn't work there, and marks… they behave strangely.
— That's exactly why it's leading us there, — Trey replied quietly.
The temple was ancient. Even moss hadn't completely overgrown it — as if the very earth avoided touching the stones, on which black palm prints remained, burned into the granite.
No windows. Only one narrow passage — like a mouth stretched out in a silent scream. They entered with swords drawn.
Inside was a hall paved with gray slabs, covered in signs similar to Trey's mark. Only… distorted. As if someone had tried to draw the same thing but had no hands. Or mind.
— This isn't a temple. It's a cage, — Kaira whispered, looking at the shapes carved into the walls.
— No, — Trey argued. — It's a record.
He stopped at the central pillar. There was a drawing pressed deep into the stone:
A creature standing above a crowd. Everyone below it had marks. And above it — emptiness, in which there was only one hand. Inky blood dripped from it.
— That's him. The one who came through the mirror.
— Or what you will become, — Kaira said.
And at that moment, the ground shook.
The walls vibrated like strings. Shadows crawled from under the floor, from narrow cracks. But not just shadows — they breathed. Red dots glowed in their empty eyes, pulsating in time with Trey's mark.
— How many of them?! — Kaira shouted, firing back.
— It's useless! — Trey felt them surround him. — This isn't a fight. It's… a ritual.
They were needed here. They came themselves. And now they had become part of something bigger.
— We need to find the center. There… something is calling.
They rushed inwards, between the pillars. The shadows didn't stop them — they only accompanied them. Whispered.
— You are ours… you are ours… you have already begun the path…
In the center of the hall was a circle drawn in blood and ash. In it — a throne. Made of stone. On it — a body. Dried up, mummified. And yet — alive.
The eyes opened.
— Greetings, carrier. I… was you. Before.
Trey froze.
— What?
— We are all reflections. The mark is not a choice. It is a memory. And you are simply the next one who must pass it on.
— Pass it on… to whom?
— To the one who will come after you. When you… burn out.
The mummy's eyes flared with black fire. The temple walls creaked. Sand fell from the ceiling. Kaira screamed — but her voice was lost in the roaring sound.
Trey didn't remember how he got out. Only the pulse in his temples. And a scar on his palm. A new one.
A sign.
And in his head — a voice:
— Now you are part of us. And soon you will see what it means to be both hunter… and prey.