Ezra plunged into the mist.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the city behind him vanished.
No slow fade, no gradual shift— just gone.
The world became nothing but fog.
Thick. Endless.
His footsteps barely made a sound. The stone bridge beneath him stretched forward, but he couldn't see the end. Or the sides.
Ezra slowed.
Running blindly into the unknown? Not his best plan.
The hunger in his chest pulsed.
A subtle warning.
He inhaled through his nose, keeping his breathing steady. "Alright. Think."
The thing in the city hadn't followed. That was good.
But this place?
It felt… wrong.
Not like the city.
Not like the underground chamber.
This was something else.
Something more… aware.
The mist shifted.
Not with wind.
With whispers.
Low. Faint.
Just at the edge of hearing.
Ezra's spine stiffened.
"He's here."
The words slithered through the fog, barely more than a breath.
"He walks the bridge."
Ezra's fingers twitched toward his dagger. "Right. Voices in the mist. That's normal."
The whispers didn't stop.
They came from everywhere.
"He carries the hunger."
"But is he worthy?"
Ezra exhaled sharply. "I can hear you, you know."
The whispers went silent.
For a moment, only his own heartbeat filled the emptiness.
Then—
A laugh.
Soft. Amused.
Close.
Too close.
Ezra spun.
But there was nothing there.
Just mist.
Moving.
Curling around his body like fingers tracing his skin.
Ezra's jaw clenched. "Alright. Enough games."
He took a step forward—
And the bridge wasn't there.
His foot landed on nothing.
His body tilted forward.
And then—
He fell.