The whirring sound grows louder.
Not mechanical.
Not natural.
Something else.
Something wrong.
Elias stiffens beside me, his fingers twitching slightly, like he's feeling something I can't.
And then—
The shadows move.
——
It happens too fast.
A sudden pulse—not of sound, but of pressure, a force that grips the air itself, warping it like heat over stone.
I flinch, my vision darkening at the edges as a wave of nausea slams through me.
Edan stumbles backward, gripping his head. "What the—"
And then Elias grabs my wrist.
"Run."
——
I don't question him. Neither does Edan.
We turn and sprint—back through the winding corridors of the ruin, past broken pillars and half-buried relics, our boots slamming against the cold stone.
The darkness behind us thickens, twisting in the corners of my vision, like something is stirring awake.
The ruins are collapsing, but not physically.
It is the air itself, the weight of something unseen, closing in.
Something is chasing us.
Something without form, but not without hunger.
——
Elias stumbles, gripping his chest, his breathing ragged.
Edan catches his arm. "Keep moving!"
Elias grits his teeth, nodding, but I see it—
The faint trails of darkness leaking from his fingertips.
He is fighting something.
Something I can't see.
——
We push forward, dodging falling debris, and vaulting over broken pathways.
The entrance is ahead—a sliver of light cutting through the dark.
I grab Elias, half-dragging him toward it as the air grows colder, heavier.
Edan is ahead, already through the passage.
Almost there.
Almost—
A whisper.
Hissing.
Spitting.
Not words—intent.
Hate.
It is not from Edan.
It is not from me.
It is from him.
From Elias.
Or rather—
From something inside him.
——
The instant we cross the threshold, the force vanishes.
Like we've crossed a boundary.
The ruins fall silent.
The weight is gone.
But the damage is done.
Because Elias staggers forward—
And vomits blood.
——
Edan swears, catching his arm. "What—Elias?!"
I grab him too, panic spiking through me. "Elias, what's wrong?!"
His hands tremble, his breath ragged, his eyes unfocused.
And then—
He starts laughing.
Not amused.
Not happy.
Something shaken. Something unsteady.
And when he finally speaks—
His voice is hoarse.
"They're pissed."
——
We don't move from the ruin's entrance for a while.
Elias sits with his back against a broken column, his breathing still uneven, his hands shaking slightly.
Edan is watching him carefully, concern etched deep into his face.
"What the hell happened in there?" he asks, voice low.
Elias wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling sharply. "Oh, you know. Ancient ruins, old curses, voices that really don't like me."
I tense.
I have heard nothing.
But Elias has.
And that means—
"It spoke to you," I say softly.
Elias grins weakly, but his eyes are dark.
"More like screamed at me."
——
His tone is light, but I see through it.
The way his fingers still twitch slightly.
The way his gaze won't quite meet mine.
The way his laughter earlier had not been his own.
This was not just a voice.
This was something else.
Something inside the ruins recognized him.
And it hated him.
——
After a moment, Edan sighs, rubbing his temple. "Alright. Start from the beginning. What did it say?"
Elias leans back, exhaling slowly.
"It wasn't words. Not really." He frowns. "It was intent. Emotion. Hate. It felt like… something old. Something that's been waiting a long time."
He pauses, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the memory.
"It wanted me dead."
Edan blinks. "Just you?"
Elias smirks, but there's no humour in it. "Oh, don't worry. It would've killed both of us if it had the chance. But it really, really hated me."
I shiver. "Why?"
Elias's smile fades slightly.
His fingers flex, like he's testing his grip.
Like he's feeling for something that wasn't there before.
"I think it knows what I am," he mutters.
——
Silence.
Edan exhales sharply. "And that is?"
Elias chuckles. "Hell if I know."
He glances at me, eyes unreadable.
"But apparently, I shouldn't exist."
——
No one speaks for a while.
The realization settles between us, thick and heavy.
Elias had heard something we could not.
And it had tried to kill him for it.
Edan finally shakes his head, rubbing his face. "Alright. We're leaving."
Elias raises an eyebrow. "What, no more digging around the cursed ruins?"
Edan gives him a flat look. "Oh, I'd love to stay and risk my soul, but unfortunately, I like being alive. We're regrouping back at the camp."
Elias laughs, winces, and then nods. "Fine by me."
He pushes himself up, and I steady him.
I don't miss how his breathing still isn't quite right.
How his fingers still twitch.
How there is still something unsettled in his expression.
And I wonder—
Did something in that ruin follow us out?
——
We walk.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Together.
And I know, without speaking—
That whatever happens next, whatever we uncover—
Elias, Edan, and I are bound by this now.
Not by choice.
Not by loyalty.
But by survival.
By a truth we almost didn't live to tell.