Elara's breath came in quick bursts as the scream echoed in her ears, reverberating through the halls like a ghostly warning. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet remained glued to the cold marble floor.
"I told you, you're not ready for this," Liora said, her voice carrying a sharp edge as she stepped closer.
Elara spun to face her. "What is it? What's happening?"
Liora's expression darkened, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Something ancient has been disturbed, and it's tied to you."
"That doesn't make sense!" Elara's voice cracked, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't even know who I am anymore!"
Before Liora could respond, another crash echoed, this time accompanied by deep, guttural growls that sent shivers down Elara's spine.
"Stay here," Liora commanded, already moving toward the noise.
"No!" Elara's defiance surprised even herself. "If this has something to do with me, I deserve to know."
Liora hesitated, her gaze scanning Elara's determined face. "Then stay close. And don't say I didn't warn you."
As they moved through the twisting halls, the air grew colder, heavier. The walls seemed to close in, their once-grand design now oppressive. Shadows danced along the edges of the candlelight, as if mocking their every step.
They reached a grand double door, its surface carved with symbols that seemed to writhe under the dim light. Liora paused, her hand hovering over the intricate patterns.
"What's in there?" Elara whispered, her voice trembling.
"The truth," Liora replied cryptically.
Before Elara could press further, Liora pushed the doors open, revealing a cavernous room bathed in an eerie blue glow. At its center was a shattered pedestal, its fragments scattered across the floor like jagged pieces of a puzzle.
Sebastian stood in the middle of the room, his broad shoulders tense. His hands were clenched into fists, his golden eyes locked on the figure across from him.
Dante.
"Tell me you had nothing to do with this," Sebastian growled, his voice low and threatening.
Dante smirked, though the flicker of unease in his eyes didn't escape Elara's notice. "You give me too much credit, Graves. This chaos isn't my doing. Not entirely."
Sebastian took a step forward, his presence commanding. "Then who?"
Dante's smirk faded as he turned his gaze to Elara. "Why don't we ask her?"
Elara's heart stopped. All eyes in the room fell on her, and the weight of their scrutiny made her legs feel like they might give out.
"What are you talking about?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dante took a slow, deliberate step toward her, his expression unreadable. "You felt it, didn't you? The pull. The whispers."
Elara shook her head, her mind racing. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're lying," Dante said, his voice cutting through her denial like a blade. "You've felt it since the moment you woke up here. The connection. The power."
"Enough," Sebastian interjected, stepping between them. "You don't know what you're doing, Dante."
Dante's eyes narrowed. "Don't I? Or are you afraid of what she might become?"
The tension in the room was suffocating. Elara's pulse thundered in her ears as she struggled to make sense of their words.
"What am I to you people?" she demanded, her voice rising despite the fear tightening her chest.
Dante's gaze softened, though his intensity didn't waver. "You're more than you realize, Elara. And that makes you dangerous."
A sudden gust of wind whipped through the room, extinguishing the blue glow and plunging them into darkness. Elara gasped, her hands instinctively reaching out for something—anything—to ground her.
"Stay close!" Sebastian's voice called out.
Before she could respond, a searing pain shot through her head, and the whispers returned, louder this time. They weren't just calling her name—they were screaming it.
"Elara! Elara!"
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground. The last thing she saw before everything went black was a pair of glowing red eyes staring at her from the shadows.
The silence after the crash was deafening. Dante stood in the heart of the chaos, his breathing uneven as his mind raced. Broken glass littered the floor, glittering like cursed stars under the dim chandelier light. His hand instinctively moved to the dagger strapped to his side.
"Elara," he whispered, the name heavy with more than just concern.
A shadow shifted near the far end of the room, quick and fluid. Without hesitation, Dante moved toward it, his steps purposeful yet eerily quiet.
But the figure didn't run. It stood waiting, its silhouette tall and imposing.
"You always were impatient," came a low, gravelly voice.
Dante froze, his grip tightening on the dagger. "Sebastian."
The man emerged from the shadows, his golden eyes piercing and unreadable. "You look surprised to see me."
"You disappeared without a word. Why return now?" Dante's voice was sharp, almost accusatory.
Sebastian stepped closer, his presence dominating the room. "Because she's here."
Dante's jaw clenched. "She?"
"Elara," Sebastian said, his tone deliberate. "She's the reason for all of this."
Dante narrowed his eyes, a flicker of anger crossing his face. "If you've come to interfere—"
Sebastian raised a hand, silencing him. "You think you can control this, Dante? You can't even control the storm she's brought with her."
The tension between them was thick, but before either could act, a distant scream echoed through the mansion, high and sharp.
Dante didn't hesitate. He turned and ran toward the source, his heart pounding as dread clawed at his chest. Sebastian followed, silent but unwavering.
They found Elara in the west wing, her back pressed against the wall as Liora stood between her and a flickering, monstrous shadow. The creature moved unnaturally, its limbs too long, its head tilted in a way that made the air feel wrong.
"What *is* that?" Elara asked, her voice trembling as her wide eyes darted between Liora and the shadow.
"It's a memory," Liora replied, her tone calm but edged with urgency. "Or what's left of one."
Dante stepped forward, drawing his dagger. "You should have left when I told you to."
The shadow turned its head toward him, and for a brief moment, its form solidified into something horrifyingly human. A face emerged—twisted and anguished—and Dante felt a pang of recognition.
"Father…"
The word escaped him before he could stop it.
Elara's head snapped toward him. "What did you just say?"
Before he could answer, the shadow lunged. It moved like liquid darkness, and the room erupted into chaos. Liora raised her hands, chanting under her breath as a barrier of light formed around Elara.