Ezra stood in the dim corridor outside the cell, heart pounding like a war drum. The crypt was eerily silent now, save for the faint sound of water dripping from the cracked stone ceiling. The creature was gone, but its final words still echoed in his mind.
"You were not meant to walk the Forsaken Path."
Forsaken Path.
The words felt heavy, carrying an unnatural weight, as if merely knowing them was a crime against the world itself.
Ezra clenched his jaw, forcing himself to push aside his spiraling thoughts. He didn't have the luxury of standing around in a crypt with no idea where he was or why something was already trying to kill him.
He lifted the old, rusted lantern, the dim blue flame inside flickering uneasily.
First priority: Get out of this place.
With careful steps, he began walking down the corridor, his boots barely making a sound against the damp stone floor. The passage stretched ahead, lined with more cells, each one filled with remains some human, some... not.
His grip on the lantern tightened.
What kind of place is this?
His mind sorted through the fragments of memories he had inherited. The original Ezra Nacht had been a Lamp Bearer, the lowest-ranked of all Sigil Users. Their only role was to provide light in places where the sun did not shine ancient ruins, forgotten crypts, eldritch domains.
And yet, something was wrong. Lamp Bearers were not supposed to be imprisoned.
Which meant… someone had wanted him locked away.
His expression darkened. Had the previous Ezra uncovered something he shouldn't have?
A chill ran down his spine.
He didn't like how many questions he had without answers.
He continued forward, his lantern casting flickering shadows against the walls. The air was damp, thick with the scent of rot and something older, a scent that didn't belong to the mortal world.
After several minutes of careful movement, the corridor finally opened up into a vast underground chamber.
Ezra stopped in his tracks.
A cathedral of the dead.
The chamber stretched into darkness, lined with massive stone statues, each depicting faceless figures wrapped in cloaks. Some held chains, others books, but all of them had their heads bowed in silence.
At the center of the chamber, an ornate stone altar loomed, covered in faded inscriptions.
And behind it
A massive iron door, its surface engraved with an unholy sigil.
Ezra's pulse quickened. He didn't recognize the symbols, but his instincts screamed wrong.
There was something beyond that door something the world itself had tried to lock away.
And yet…
A trail of fresh footprints led straight to it.
Someone else had been here recently.
Ezra exhaled slowly, stepping forward. If there was a way out of this place, it would be beyond that door.
As he approached, his gaze flickered to the altar, where a weathered book lay open, its pages filled with an unfamiliar script.
The ink was red.
Not ink. Blood.
Ezra's fingers hovered over the page, his breath steady. The symbols made no sense, but as he stared, something shifted in his mind
A whisper.
Not from outside.
From within.
"Speak your name."
A jolt of unease coiled in his gut.
The words came from nowhere a voice that did not belong to him, yet it coiled through his thoughts as if it always had.
He stepped back, his muscles tensed. He had heard whispers before, but this one was different. It wasn't urging him to run.
It was asking for something.
Ezra's lips parted, hesitation thick in his throat.
His name…
Ezra Nacht.
That was what the previous owner of this body had been called.
But was it his?
Something in his soul shifted at the thought. He had been someone else before. He had lived another life, in another world. That name belonged to a man who was no longer here.
So who was he now?
The whisper repeated.
"Speak your name."
Ezra's gaze darkened.
"…Ezra Nacht."
A sudden force rippled through the air.
The lantern in his grip flickered violently, its blue flame twisting into unnatural shapes. The symbols on the altar pulsed, as if acknowledging him.
And then
A low, metallic groan filled the chamber.
Ezra's head snapped up.
The iron door was opening.
Beyond it only darkness.
His fingers tightened around the lantern's handle.
A test.
A threshold.
Whatever was on the other side… it was waiting for him.
Ezra inhaled sharply then stepped forward.
And the door swallowed him whole.