The faint hum of the overhead lights filled the study room, a backdrop to the rising tension that hung heavy in the air. Elias sat at the cluttered table, surrounded by scrolls, translated texts, and fragments of symbols copied from the tomb walls. His eyes flickered over the ancient words, but his mind was elsewhere—drifting between the memory of his dream and the persistent call of Malakarath.
Jonas stood by the window, arms crossed, his silhouette framed by the pale light filtering through the blinds. He had been watching Elias for minutes, saying nothing. Still, his frustration was evident in his jaw clenched and his fingers tapping against his arm.
Finally, Jonas broke the silence. "Elias, this has to stop."
Elias didn't look up, focusing on the text before him. "What are you talking about?"
Jonas took a step closer, his voice sharp. "You. This… obsession with Malakarath. You're not sleeping or barely eating, and every time we try to talk to you, it's like you're somewhere else."
Elias sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'm fine, Jonas. I'm just… trying to make sense of all this. We're so close to understanding what happened to that civilization, to figuring out how they tried to stop it."
Jonas slammed his hand on the table, startling Elias. "And what if there's no stopping it? What if Malakarath can't be contained? You saw what it did to those people, what it's already done to you. You think you can reason with something like that?"
Elias finally met Jonas's gaze, his eyes dark with determination. "It's not about reasoning with it. It's about understanding it. If we can figure out what it is, why it's here, then maybe we can find a way to fight it."
Jonas shook his head, his frustration boiling over. "Listen to yourself! You're talking like it's some kind of puzzle you can solve. It's not. It's a force of destruction—something that takes and takes until there's nothing left. And you're letting it drag you down with it."
Elias stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "I'm not being dragged anywhere, Jonas. I'm doing what needs to be done. If we walk away now and leave this unfinished, Malakarath will find someone else. Someone like Garrow, who will use it for all the wrong reasons."
Jonas's expression darkened at the mention of Garrow. "And how are you any different from him right now? He wanted power and recognition. And you? You're chasing this thing like it's some kind of savior offering you something you can't refuse."
Elias faltered, the accusation cutting deeper than he expected. He didn't want to admit it—not to Jonas or himself—but there was truth in the words. Malakarath's presence in his dreams, its whispered promises of knowledge and understanding, had become harder to resist. It wasn't just about stopping it anymore. A part of him wanted to know, see, and understand the truth Malakarath held.
He turned away, his voice low. "It's not about me, Jonas. This is bigger than any of us."
That night, Elias sat alone in the dimly lit study room, the quiet hum of the building amplifying the emptiness around him. The weight of Jonas's words lingered, but it wasn't enough to pull him away from the scrolls before him.
A familiar sensation crept over him as he traced the symbols with his finger. The air grew heavier and colder, and the room darkened around the edges. His heartbeat quickened, and his eyes drifted shut before he could stop himself.
Soft and inviting whispers returned, wrapping around his mind like a soothing melody. Images followed—glimpses of vast cities rising from the earth, their towers piercing the heavens. Rivers of gold and fire wove through the streets, and the people moved in harmony, their faces serene, their eyes alight with purpose.
Malakarath's voice echoed in the vision, smooth and commanding. "You see what was. A world perfected, shaped by my hand. They thrived under my guidance, their minds freed from doubt, their souls given clarity."
Elias felt himself drawn deeper into the vision. The scenes shifted to show him standing among the people, their eyes turning to him with reverence. He saw himself speaking, leading, his voice carrying the weight of Malakarath's power.
"You could have this," the voice continued, closer now, almost intimate. "You could shape a new world. A better world. One free of chaos and suffering."
Elias's breath hitched. The offer was intoxicating, a tantalizing glimpse of a world where his work and knowledge could mean something far greater than himself.
"But at what cost?" he murmured, his voice trembling.
The vision stilled, and Malakarath's form appeared before him. Its humanlike face was serene, its dark eyes filled with an infinite depth. "All great things require sacrifice, Elias. The ancients understood this. They offered themselves willingly, for they knew the truth: to reshape the world, one must first destroy what is broken."
The weight of the words pressed down on Elias. He felt himself slipping for a moment, the line between his will and Malakarath's influence blurring. But then, a faint voice cut through the haze—Marie's voice, calling his name, pulling him back.
Elias jerked awake, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. Marie stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of concern and anger.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, stepping into the room. "You were… I don't know what you were doing, but it wasn't normal."
Elias ran a hand through his hair, struggling to ground himself. "I wasn't doing anything. It was just… a dream."
Marie crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "That wasn't just a dream, Elias. You were talking to it, weren't you? Malakarath."
He didn't answer, but his silence was enough. Marie's expression softened, though her worry deepened. "It's getting to you, Elias. I know you think you can handle it, but this isn't something you can fight alone. You have to let us help you."
Elias shook his head, standing and pacing the room. "You don't understand. It's not just pulling me in—it's showing me things. Knowledge, answers. Maybe we can stop it if I can figure out what it wants."
Marie grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop and face her. "And what if it's lying? What if everything it's showing you is just another way to control you?"
Elias met her gaze, his voice raw. "What if it's not?"
The question hung between them, heavy and unanswered. Marie released his arm, stepping back with a look of defeat.
Jonas appeared in the doorway, his face set in a grim expression. "This is exactly what I was talking about. You're playing with fire, Elias. And if you don't stop, it will burn all of us."
Elias looked between them, torn between the voices of his friends and the pull of Malakarath's promises. He knew they were right that the Sleeper was dangerous, but the visions and whispers offered a clarity he couldn't ignore.
"I'm not stopping," he said, his voice steady but cold. "Not until I figure this out."
Marie and Jonas exchanged a worried glance, but neither argued. They could see the determination in his eyes, the obsession that had taken root. For now, they could only hope it wouldn't consume him entirely.