The ground shook violently beneath Rael's feet as the chamber continued to tremble. Dust fell from the ceiling, and the cracks in the floor widened, threatening to swallow them whole.
"What did you do?" Rael demanded, his eyes darting between the glowing orb and the mysterious man.
The man didn't answer. Instead, he turned and sprinted toward the exit, his movements swift and practiced. "Run!" he shouted over his shoulder, and Rael didn't need to be told twice.
They raced through the tunnels, the walls closing in around them as the tremors grew more intense. Behind them, Rael could hear the distant sound of something moving—something large and ancient, awakened by the disturbance in the chamber.
His heart pounded in his chest as he pushed himself to run faster, the stone in his pocket growing warmer with each passing second. Whatever had been triggered, it was coming for them, and it wasn't going to stop.
They burst out of the ravine and into the open air, just as the ground behind them collapsed, swallowing the entrance to the underground chamber in a cloud of dust and debris.
Rael stumbled, gasping for breath, and looked back at the destruction they had narrowly escaped. The ravine was gone, replaced by a massive sinkhole that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"What the hell was that?" Rael demanded, turning to face the man.
The man's mask hid his expression, but his voice was grim. "The beginning of the hunt."
Rael frowned. "The hunt? For what?"
The man's gaze turned to the horizon, where storm clouds gathered ominously. "For you."
Rael's blood ran cold. He had felt it before—the sensation of being watched, the whispers that had followed him through the city. But now, it was clear. Whatever had been awakened in that chamber, whatever power had stirred, it had marked him.
And now, it was coming.
Rael and the man traveled in silence for hours, moving away from the city and deeper into the wastelands. The further they went, the more desolate the landscape became. The ruins of the old world were fewer and farther between, replaced by barren plains and jagged cliffs.
The sky above them darkened, and a cold wind howled through the air. Rael could feel the tension building—the sense of something lurking just beyond his vision, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Finally, they stopped at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a vast expanse of land that stretched out beneath them like a sea of ash. The man stood silently for a moment, his gaze distant, as if he were listening to something Rael couldn't hear.
"What are we waiting for?" Rael asked, his voice barely audible over the wind.
The man didn't respond immediately. Then, without turning, he spoke. "It's here."
Rael's heart skipped a beat. "What?"
The man's hand moved to the hilt of his blade, his posture tense. "The first of many."
Rael's eyes widened as the air around them grew colder, and the shadows seemed to lengthen. For a moment, he saw nothing—only the empty wasteland below. But then, slowly, figures began to emerge from the darkness.
They were humanoid in shape, but their bodies were twisted, their limbs elongated and bent at unnatural angles. Their skin was ashen, their eyes hollow, and their movements unnervingly silent.
Rael swallowed hard, his hand instinctively reaching for the stone in his pocket. The figures moved closer, their hollow eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made his skin crawl.
"What are they?" he whispered.
The man drew his blade, the steel glinting in the fading light. "Shades," he said quietly. "They're drawn to the power you carry."
Rael's pulse quickened as the creatures advanced, their movements slow but deliberate. There were dozens of them, maybe more, and they were closing in fast.
"What do we do?" Rael asked, his voice tight with fear.
The man glanced at him, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "We fight."