The iron gates groaned in protest as Rowan pushed them open, their sound sharp and unnatural in the eerie stillness of the night. Liyana hesitated at the threshold, her eyes scanning the mausoleum before them. It rose out of the ground like some ancient beast, its dark stone walls covered in a thick, twisting ivy that seemed to pulsate faintly, as if it were alive. She could feel the magic here—heavy and oppressive, like a wet blanket thrown over her senses, suffocating. This place reeked of the dead.The mausoleum wasn't just some decrepit structure. It was a monument to the forgotten. The ivy clinging to it had grown so dense that the stone beneath seemed to pulse with the city's magic, as though the building itself had absorbed centuries of death, blood, and whispers. The air here was colder, denser, and it clung to Liyana's skin with a chill that crawled down her spine."Of course it's the creepy, cursed mausoleum," Liyana muttered under her breath. "Classic."Malik's cane tapped lightly behind her, his steps more cautious now. Even in the dim light, she could see the tension in his posture. It wasn't often that Malik Sissoko—the calm, composed voice of reason in her life—looked rattled. That made her worry even more."You okay?" Liyana whispered, hoping her voice wouldn't bounce off the mausoleum's stone walls and come back at her with twice the dread.Malik hesitated, his fingers tightening on his cane. His voice was low, barely a breath above a whisper. "I'm fine..." He paused, then added with a dry chuckle, "If you call being stalked by invisible spirits and cursed magic fine."Liyana shot him a sympathetic look. Yeah, she thought, fine doesn't really cover it. She could feel the same creeping sensation Malik described—the weight of unseen eyes following them, something far more ancient and malevolent than any spirit she'd ever encountered in her career. Varnath had a way of making the skin crawl, but this was different. This felt personal.The fog thickened around their feet as they moved inside the mausoleum, the cold biting at Liyana's exposed skin. She tugged her coat tighter, though she knew it wasn't the kind of chill a jacket could fix. The damp air carried the scent of decay and something else—something metallic. Blood.The mausoleum walls were lined with faded engravings, cryptic symbols Liyana didn't recognize at first glance. They were older than anything she had studied before, the kind of language that had likely been lost to time. The torchlight flickered weakly against the dark stone, casting long shadows that danced across the ancient carvings, making them appear as though they shifted, writhed even.The floor beneath her boots felt slick, but not from water. Liyana glanced down and saw the unmistakable streaks of dried blood trailing along the cracked stone, marking a path toward the center of the room. She swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to turn on her heel and walk right back out."This place gives me serious 'get-out-while-you-can' vibes," Liyana muttered to herself, her fingers brushing lightly against the stone walls, tracing the grooves in the engravings. She wasn't sure if she was talking to herself or Malik, but either way, it felt good to say it out loud.Malik glanced over, his lips twitching into a small, knowing smile. "Well, it's not too late to run.""Tempting," she muttered, her eyes scanning the strange symbols again. There was something familiar about them—an ancient script or a half-forgotten story her family used to tell in the darker corners of their rituals.Rowan stopped in front of a raised stone platform at the center of the mausoleum, his back turned to them. His tall frame cast a long shadow across the floor, stretching toward Liyana like a specter of something she didn't want to name. The platform itself was cracked and weathered with time, but what drew Liyana's attention were the symbols etched into its surface—ritual markings, unmistakable and old. Blood had filled the grooves of the markings at some point, now dried to a rusty brown, but the faint metallic scent still lingered.She crouched next to the platform, running her fingers lightly over the carved symbols, feeling the roughness of the stone beneath her touch. They were intricate, woven together in a pattern that screamed of ancient magic, blood magic. Her gut twisted at the recognition. These weren't just any markings. This was something much older, much darker than she had ever studied."Blood magic," she murmured, half to herself, half to the air that seemed to press against her. The words tasted bitter on her tongue, and a cold dread settled over her. Blood magic ran through her veins—she knew it, felt it—but this... this was something far more primal, more dangerous."What do you think?" Malik asked quietly, standing just behind her. He was nervous—she could hear it in the tension in his voice."Older than anything I've seen before." She traced the symbols again. "This ritual... it wasn't just about raising the dead. It's a binding. Whoever performed this, they weren't trying to resurrect someone. They were trying to tether something."Malik's face paled slightly, and Liyana felt her stomach knot even tighter. She glanced over at Rowan, who stood silently, watching her with that unreadable expression again. She hated that look—like he knew something she didn't. Something that was going to ruin her day."You know what this is, don't you?" Liyana asked, standing and wiping her hands on her coat as if she could wipe away the feeling of the symbols on her skin. Her voice came out sharper than she intended, but she didn't care. Rowan's silence was starting to wear on her nerves.Rowan didn't answer right away. His amber eyes flicked toward the platform, his expression hardening. For the first time, Liyana saw a crack in his usual confident demeanor—just a flicker, but it was there."It's a binding ritual," he said at last, his voice low. "Not just for souls. This ritual..." His gaze shifted, locking onto hers. "It's designed to bind something far more dangerous than a spirit."Liyana's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse quickening. Something more dangerous than a spirit? That was exactly the kind of answer she didn't want."What were they binding?" Malik asked, his voice tight.Rowan's gaze darkened, and he hesitated before speaking. "Something that should have never been released. The dead didn't rise alone. Something else came with them. Something old."Liyana felt a chill run down her spine, the kind that made her muscles tense and her instincts scream for her to get out while she still could. But the logical part of her brain—the forensic pathologist who had seen too much—kicked in. She couldn't walk away. Not now."And let me guess," Liyana said, her voice edged with sarcasm, "we're the lucky ones who get to figure out what it is?"Rowan's lips twitched into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Exactly.""Perfect," Liyana muttered under her breath. Because that's exactly how I wanted to spend my night—chasing after ancient, dangerous, probably soul-eating entities in the middle of a haunted city. She sighed heavily, shaking her head.Malik shot her a sideways glance, his lips quirking up slightly in response to her dry humor, but there was still tension in his stance, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of them."So, what's the plan?" Malik asked, his voice quieter now.Rowan turned his attention back to the platform, his amber eyes glinting faintly in the flickering torchlight. "Now," he said softly, his tone carrying a dark edge, "we find out what's waking up. And more importantly—how to stop it."Liyana exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air. Her pulse still raced, but she steeled herself. Whatever was lurking in the shadows of Varnath, whatever had been bound and now walked among the living, they had to stop it.The torchlight flickered weakly as Liyana followed Rowan deeper into the mausoleum. The darkness seemed to breathe around them, growing thicker and more oppressive with each step. The cold stone walls felt as if they were closing in, but Liyana tried to ignore the tightening in her chest—the sensation of being swallowed whole by the ancient, blood-soaked air. It's fine, she told herself. It's not like we're walking straight into the belly of a curse or anything.The air tasted old, damp, and metallic, like rusted iron mixed with the faint scent of decay. She pulled her coat tighter around her, though the cold seemed to creep under her skin no matter how many layers she wore. Every breath felt heavier, weighted with the oppressive magic that clung to the very bones of this place. She could feel it, like a pulse beneath the stone, ancient and restless."This place has seen some things," Malik muttered behind her, his voice low and tense. His cane tapped lightly on the ground as they moved forward, the sound swallowed almost immediately by the thick fog that drifted in from the outside."Yeah, no kidding," Liyana replied, her gaze flicking toward the walls. The carvings had grown more intricate the deeper they went—twisting symbols that seemed to pulse and writhe in the dim light. The deeper they ventured, the more those ancient markings began to whisper of things best left forgotten.She couldn't help but feel like the crypt was alive. Varnath itself had always been a city where the line between life and death blurred, but here, it was more than that. Here, the dead weren't just close—they were listening."You ever get the feeling you're the only one in the room who isn't dead?" Liyana quipped, mostly to break the silence. Her voice came out quieter than she intended, swallowed by the heavy air.Malik chuckled softly, though the sound was strained. "I try not to think about it."Rowan, leading the way, remained silent. His gaze was fixed ahead, his expression unreadable, but Liyana could sense the tension radiating from him. Whatever they were walking toward, it wasn't good. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was starting to wonder if she'd gotten in over her head. The weight of the blood magic in this place pressed down on her like a lead blanket, thickening the air in her lungs.Her fingers itched as she fought the instinct to reach out and tap into the magic she'd been trying to suppress for so long. It was there, just beneath her skin, waiting to be used. But no. She wasn't going to let herself get pulled back into that—not yet. Not unless she had no choice."You sure about this, Rowan?" Liyana asked, her tone sharper than she intended. She glanced at him, catching his amber eyes glinting faintly in the torchlight. "I'd like to avoid waking up whatever ancient evil decided to stretch its legs tonight."Rowan paused, turning to face her. For a moment, he didn't answer, and Liyana wondered if he was weighing how much to tell her. That thought irritated her. If he's going to drag me through a cursed tomb, he could at least have the decency to be honest about it."What we're dealing with," Rowan finally said, his voice low, almost reverent, "isn't something that can be avoided anymore. It's already awake. Now it's just a matter of finding it—before it finds us."Liyana swallowed the uneasy laugh bubbling in her throat. Great. Just great.The path ahead narrowed, the walls pressing closer, and she could feel the energy shift again. It wasn't just the oppressive, ancient magic weighing down on her anymore—it was something sharper, more immediate. She stopped in her tracks, her instincts screaming at her that something was very, very wrong."Wait," she said quietly, holding up a hand to halt the others.Malik stopped beside her, his cane poised mid-tap, while Rowan turned back, his gaze narrowing."What is it?" Rowan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.Liyana didn't respond immediately. Her pulse was thudding in her ears, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She could feel it—a presence, not just the dead who lingered here, but something else. Something that shouldn't be."I don't know," she admitted, her voice tight. "But it feels like we're not alone."As if in response, the air around them shifted, growing colder, darker. The flickering torchlight dimmed even more, casting long shadows that danced along the stone walls like restless spirits. A low, rumbling sound echoed through the mausoleum, vibrating through the ground beneath their feet. Liyana's heart raced as the sound grew louder, more distinct—a scraping, like something heavy being dragged across stone."Oh no. Nope. That is definitely not a good sound," Liyana muttered, backing up a step. Why am I even here? Right. Dead people walking. Blood magic. Cursed city. Perfect.Rowan's eyes darkened, his hand tightening at his side. "It's waking up," he said quietly, his voice steady but grim. "Whatever was bound here is starting to break free."Liyana's stomach twisted at the words, but she forced herself to stay calm. She had faced the dead before—analyzed their bodies, unraveled their secrets. This was just another puzzle. Except it wasn't. It wasn't just the dead. It was something far worse."So, what's the plan here?" Malik asked, his voice tight. His cane tapped nervously against the stone floor.Rowan glanced back at them, his expression unreadable. "We need to stop it before it fully awakens.""Great," Liyana muttered under her breath. "No pressure."She exchanged a glance with Malik, who raised an eyebrow as if to say, Why do we always get roped into these things?"Well, whatever it is, we're not going to stop it by standing here," Liyana said, steeling herself. Time to face the music. Or in this case, the creepy, potentially soul-eating thing in the shadows. She just hoped her sarcasm would carry her through this. It usually did.They moved forward again, but every step felt heavier, as though the very ground beneath their feet was trying to pull them down, to drag them into the stone. The scraping sound grew louder, echoing off the walls, and Liyana's breath quickened. Whatever was in here with them, it wasn't just an echo of the past. It was something alive.Rowan stopped abruptly, his hand raised. Ahead of them, the tunnel opened into a larger chamber, the ceiling stretching up into the shadows. In the center of the room stood an altar—ancient and cracked, with more of the ritual symbols carved into its surface. But what made Liyana's blood run cold was what lay on the altar.A figure—shrouded in shadow, its features obscured—was bound by chains made of black, twisting metal. The chains seemed to pulse with dark magic, growing and shrinking like something alive. The figure twitched, its movements slow but deliberate, as though it were waking from a long, restless sleep.Liyana's heart pounded in her chest. Okay. So... this is bad."That," Rowan said softly, his eyes fixed on the figure, "is what was bound here. And if we don't stop it—" His voice trailed off, but the implication was clear.Liyana's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the weight of the magic pressing down on them, thick and suffocating. The figure on the altar shifted again, and this time, its movements were faster, more purposeful."Okay," Liyana said, her voice cracking slightly, "so what exactly is the plan to deal with this?"Rowan's gaze remained fixed on the figure. "We need to reinforce the binding before it breaks completely.""Right. Because nothing says 'fun night' like an emergency binding ritual on a possibly ancient evil." Liyana shot a glance at Malik. "You ever wish you'd taken up knitting?"Malik's lips quirked into a small, tight smile. "Every day, Liyana. Every day."