The room seemed to breathe, its pulse matching the steady rhythm of the crimson veins along the walls. Mira's arms clutched me tightly, her hands trembling ever so slightly. Her breath was shallow, and I could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest. The soft whispers of "I've got you" had stopped, replaced by a tense silence that wrapped around her like armor. She was on edge, and every twitch of her muscles made it clear she was ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger.
Lucien stood before the pedestal, the amulet glowing brighter in his hand, casting eerie shadows on the walls. His brow was furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line as he traced the inscriptions with careful, deliberate movements. The symbols seemed to shift under his touch, pulsing faintly in response to the light of the amulet. His other hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, fingers twitching slightly as if expecting something to attack.
Charlotte leaned heavily against one of the chamber's walls, her sword still in hand but pointed downward. Her breathing was labored, and sweat slicked her pale face. She kept her gaze locked on Lucien, her lips parted as if to say something, but the words didn't come. Instead, she shifted her weight, her grip tightening on her weapon as she scanned the room for threats.
The pedestal hummed, its surface rippling with faint crimson light. The symbols carved into its stone seemed to come alive, weaving intricate patterns that flickered and twisted like living things. The hum grew louder, resonating through the chamber until it was no longer a sound but a pressure, pressing against our skin and filling the air with an electric tension.
Lucien's voice broke the silence. "It's projecting something." He stepped back, his eyes narrowing as he examined the pedestal. "A warning, maybe."
"A warning for what?" Mira's voice was sharp, her grip on me tightening as her gaze darted between Lucien and the glowing symbols.
Lucien didn't answer immediately. His jaw clenched, and he raised the amulet higher, angling it toward the pedestal. The light from the amulet intensified, and the symbols responded in kind, their glow flaring briefly before settling into a steady pulse.
Then, a voice filled the chamber. It wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made the air feel heavier. "A host must understand. A vessel must bleed. Which will you become?"
Mira recoiled, clutching me closer to her chest as if the words themselves could harm me. "What does that mean?" she demanded, her voice trembling with equal parts fear and anger.
Lucien ignored her question, his focus entirely on the pedestal. He muttered something under his breath, his eyes scanning the symbols as if searching for answers. "It's asking for a connection," he said finally, his voice low but steady.
"A connection?" Charlotte's voice was hoarse, but her posture straightened slightly as she pushed off the wall. "What kind of connection?"
Lucien glanced at her, his expression grim. "It needs him," he said, nodding toward me. "The Spectral Echo. It's tied to the Crimson Trail—tied to this place. If Caelum connects to the pedestal, it might unlock something we can use."
Mira's reaction was immediate and visceral. "Absolutely not," she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room. She took a step back, holding me protectively as her eyes burned with fury. "You're not putting him through that again. Not after what just happened."
"Mira," Lucien said, his tone calm but firm. "We don't have another option. The pedestal isn't responding to us—it's responding to him. If we don't do this, we'll never get through to the Nexus."
"I don't care!" Mira's voice cracked, her anger spilling over as she glared at Lucien. "He's a baby, Lucien. A baby. He doesn't understand any of this, and you're asking him to—"
"To save us," Lucien interrupted, his voice rising slightly as he took a step toward her. "To save you. To save this house. To save himself."
Mira flinched, her breath hitching as her grip on me tightened further. She shook her head, her expression crumbling. "There has to be another way," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Lucien softened slightly, his shoulders relaxing as he stepped back. "I wish there was," he said quietly. "But the pedestal won't let us pass unless we do this. It's not a choice—it's a demand."
Mira didn't respond. Her gaze dropped to me, her lips trembling as she pressed a kiss to the top of my head. Her tears were warm against my skin, and I could feel the way her body trembled as she held me.
Then, without warning, I reached out.
It wasn't a conscious decision—just an instinct, a pull I couldn't resist. My tiny fingers stretched toward the pedestal, and the air in the chamber seemed to shift. Mira gasped, her hold on me faltering slightly as my hand brushed against the stone.
The connection was immediate.
---
The chamber dissolved around me, replaced by a swirling crimson void. Shapes and shadows moved in the distance, their forms twisting and flickering like echoes of something half-remembered. The air was thick, oppressive, and the metallic scent was overwhelming.
Then, the void shifted, coalescing into a memory.
I saw her—Lilia Redthorn. She stood at the center of a grand hall, her figure silhouetted against a backdrop of crimson light. Spectral figures surrounded her, their forms hazy and indistinct. Their voices overlapped, harsh and accusatory, as they scolded her for defying the cycle.
"You've broken the pact," one of them said, its voice resonating with anger.
Lilia's face twisted with fury, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "The pact is a prison!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. "You said it would free us, but all it's done is chain us to him."
The figures murmured among themselves, their whispers echoing like the wind. "The cycle must continue," one of them said coldly. "The host must endure."
"No!" Lilia's voice was shrill now, bordering on hysteria. "I won't let him take another generation. I'll destroy it. I'll destroy him."
She turned suddenly, her hands outstretched as she reached for a glowing shard that hovered in the air. But the moment she touched it, the shard pulsed violently, sending a shockwave through the hall. Lilia screamed, her body convulsing as the shard's energy surged into her.
The memory shattered, and I was back in the chamber.
---
The pain hit me first—a sharp, searing agony that shot through my head and down my spine. My body convulsed in Mira's arms, and her panicked voice cut through the haze.
"Caelum! Caelum, stay with me!" Her words were frantic, her hands trembling as she smoothed my hair and pressed kisses to my forehead. "Please, baby. Please."
The pedestal cracked under the strain of the connection, its surface splintering as crimson light poured out in violent bursts. The energy lashed out wildly, filling the chamber with a deafening hum.
"Get back!" Charlotte shouted, her voice hoarse as she lunged forward. She threw herself between me and the pedestal, her body absorbing a surge of energy that sent her sprawling to the ground.
"Charlotte!" Lucien's voice was sharp, his sword flashing as he deflected another burst of energy. He moved quickly, grabbing Charlotte's arm and pulling her to her feet.
"I'm fine," she gasped, though her face was pale, and she was clearly struggling to stay upright. Her sword wavered in her grip, but she held her ground, her gaze fixed on the pedestal.
The energy surged again, and Lucien raised his sword, deflecting it with a grunt of effort. "It's breaking apart," he shouted over the chaos.
Mira held me tightly, her body curling protectively around mine as she rocked me gently. Her tears fell freely now, soaking into my hair as she whispered over and over, "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you."
The pedestal cracked one final time, and a deafening roar filled the chamber as the energy exploded outward.
When the light faded, the pedestal was split down the middle, its surface dark and lifeless. At its base, a staircase spiraled downward, its steps glowing faintly with crimson light.
Lucien stepped forward cautiously, his sword still in hand as he peered into the darkness. "The Nexus," he said quietly, his voice tinged with awe and dread.
Charlotte staggered to his side, her movements slow and unsteady. "It's waiting," she said grimly, her grip tightening on her sword.
Mira didn't move. Her focus was entirely on me, her hands trembling as she smoothed my hair and kissed my forehead. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You're okay."
The faint hum of the veins filled the silence, a reminder that this was far from over.