The silence that followed the entity's banishment was heavy, almost suffocating. It wasn't the peaceful calm after victory, but the eerie quiet of a wound still bleeding beneath the surface, unseen and unknown. The air was still thick with the stench of dark magic, the remnants of the ancient entity's power lingering like smoke after a wildfire.
For several long moments, none of us moved. The ground was still cracked and trembling beneath our feet, but the chaotic vortex of energy that had threatened to tear the Citadel apart was gone. The chamber, however, was now a ruin. The walls had buckled, stones had fallen, and deep fissures ran along the floor, emanating a faint, pulsing light from the depths below.
Leon sheathed his sword, his chest heaving as he surveyed the destruction. "What… what just happened?" he asked, his voice ragged. "Did we win?"
I wasn't sure how to answer that question. We had sealed the entity away, yes, but it felt like a temporary victory. The Soulstone, still glowing faintly in my hand, had been part of the lock that bound the creature, but it had also been the key that allowed its partial escape. There was more at play here—something older and far more dangerous than any of us could yet comprehend.
"We stopped it—for now," I replied, my voice tight. "But I don't think this is over. Not yet."
Karis moved closer, her usually calm expression marred by a flicker of unease. "What do you mean? The creature's gone, right? It's sealed again."
I met her gaze and shook my head. "The Citadel was built as a prison for that thing, but it wasn't a perfect seal. Something's changed. The wards are weaker than they were before. That entity… it wasn't fully released, but it was close."
Leon clenched his fists. "And Mira? She was drawn into that thing before it was sealed. Is she—" He stopped short, the hope in his voice fading as the weight of what had happened to Mira settled in. She had been consumed by the orb, her body lost to the entity's pull. There had been no trace of her since.
I felt a deep, gnawing guilt. Mira had been driven by her desire to unlock the mysteries of the Soulstone, and it had cost her everything. I had trusted her to lead us here, and now she was gone—either dead or trapped within the same abyss that had birthed the creature.
"I don't know," I said softly. "But we can't leave her. Not yet."
Karis raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying we need to go deeper? Into that?" She gestured toward the cracks in the floor, where the pulsing light from the chasm below seemed to beckon us further into the depths of the Citadel.
I nodded, though every fiber of my being screamed to turn back, to leave this cursed place behind. "The Soulstone is still connected to whatever's down there. If there's any chance of saving Mira—or of preventing this thing from rising again—we need to understand what's really going on here."
Leon exchanged a glance with Karis, and after a long pause, they both nodded. We had come too far to turn back now.
Together, we stepped toward the largest of the fissures, where the light from below pulsed in time with the weak glow of the Soulstone. The ground beneath us groaned, but it held. I knelt at the edge of the chasm and peered down into the depths.
The light was stronger below, illuminating a vast, subterranean network of tunnels and caverns that stretched far beyond the confines of the Citadel above. The darkness was impenetrable beyond the glow of the cracks, but there was something else down there—something moving. Shadows danced and flickered in the faint light, shapes that twisted and writhed as if alive.
"There's a way down," I said, spotting a narrow stone staircase carved into the side of the chasm, leading deeper into the abyss. "It looks like this wasn't just a prison—it's part of something much larger."
Leon frowned. "Larger? You're telling me there's more to this place than just the Citadel?"
"I think so," I replied, gripping the edge of the chasm as I stood. "The Citadel is only the surface layer of whatever is buried here. The real heart of it is below."
Karis sighed. "Of course it is. Because things weren't already bad enough up here."
Without another word, we began our descent into the depths of the Citadel.
---
The air grew colder the further we descended, and the light from the cracks in the earth grew brighter, casting eerie, flickering shadows along the stone walls of the tunnel. The staircase was narrow and treacherous, with uneven steps and sharp drops, but it seemed to be holding—at least for now.
I could feel the weight of the Soulstone in my hand, its power still humming softly, but there was something else now, something different. The closer we got to the bottom, the stronger the pull became. It wasn't just a physical sensation—it was something deeper, something primal. It was as if the very core of this place was calling out to the stone, and by extension, to me.
As we reached the final step, the tunnel opened into a vast, cavernous space. The ceiling was so high above us that it disappeared into darkness, and the walls were lined with the same glowing crystals we had seen in the chamber above, though here they pulsed with a more sinister light, their glow tinged with a deep, malevolent red.
In the center of the cavern stood a massive stone monolith, easily three times as tall as any of us. It was covered in intricate carvings—symbols and runes far older than anything we had seen before. The air around the monolith shimmered with dark energy, the same energy that had surrounded the entity we had just sealed away.
But there was something else—something even more disturbing.
At the base of the monolith lay a figure, curled up and unmoving. It was Mira.
"Mira!" Leon shouted, rushing forward before I could stop him.
Karis and I followed close behind, and as we reached her, I could see that she was still breathing, but only barely. Her skin was pale, her body weak, as if she had been drained of all her strength. The energy around the monolith pulsed in time with her shallow breaths, as if it was feeding off of her.
"Mira, can you hear me?" I knelt beside her, shaking her gently.
Her eyes fluttered open, but they were unfocused, her gaze distant. "The lock," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "The key… it's not… complete."
"What do you mean?" I asked, leaning closer. "The Soulstone—"
Mira shook her head weakly. "The Soulstone… is only part of it. There's another piece… hidden… down here."
I looked up at the monolith, the carvings on its surface seeming to pulse with the same energy that surrounded Mira. The Soulstone in my hand pulsed in response, its light growing stronger.
Leon knelt beside her, his face twisted with concern. "We need to get her out of here. She's too weak—this place is killing her."
"I know," I said, standing up and looking around the cavern. "But if we don't find the other piece of the lock, it won't matter. The entity will rise again, and we'll have no way of stopping it."
Karis stepped forward, her eyes narrowed as she examined the monolith. "There's something written here," she said, tracing her fingers over the carvings. "It's… an incantation. But it's incomplete."
I stepped closer, holding the Soulstone up to the carvings. The light from the stone illuminated the symbols, and as I watched, the missing pieces of the incantation began to fill in, as if the stone was revealing the hidden parts of the ancient script.
"It's a binding ritual," I said, the words coming to me as if they had always been there, buried deep within my mind. "This monolith was meant to be part of the seal. The Soulstone is only half of it. We need the other piece."
"Where is it?" Leon asked, his voice tense.
Mira's voice was barely a whisper as she replied. "Below… deeper… in the heart."
Without another word, we lifted Mira between us and began to search for the way further down.
---
As we delved deeper into the bowels of the Citadel's labyrinth, the air grew heavier, filled with an oppressive weight that seemed to press down on our very souls. The walls of the tunnel closed in around us, the darkness thick and suffocating. Only the faint glow of the Soulstone and the pulsing crystals on the walls provided any light, casting long shadows that danced unnervingly at the edges of our vision.
The tunnel finally opened into another chamber, smaller than the last, but even more foreboding. In the center of the room was a pedestal, and upon it sat a second stone—similar in shape and size to the Soulstone, but darker, its surface etched with jagged cracks. Dark energy radiated from the stone, twisting and writhing like smoke.
"That's it," Mira whispered, her voice weak but determined. "The other half."
I approached the pedestal cautiously, the Soulstone in my hand growing warmer as I neared the dark stone. The two were connected, but in a way that felt wrong—unnatural. This wasn't