The city swallowed them.
As they walked deeper, the flickering ruins around them felt less like a city and more like a dream unraveling. Structures twisted in ways that made no sense—doors leading to open sky, staircases spiraling into nothing, streets shifting behind them when they looked away.
The silence was oppressive.
Arya kept a firm grip on his blade, his instincts on high alert. Vaelin's warning echoed in his mind.
"Beware the one who walks between."
But there was no movement.
No signs of life.
Just the wind whispering through the hollow bones of the city.
Eltheris led them with careful steps, his expression unreadable. Lira was tense, her eyes constantly scanning. Kieran had abandoned his usual smirks, his daggers already drawn.
Dorn exhaled, breaking the silence. "This place feels like it's... watching us."
Arya didn't disagree.
Then—
A sound.
Not a voice. Not a whisper.
A click.
Soft, deliberate.
They froze.
It came from a collapsed alleyway to their right.
Then another.
Click.
Click.
Like claws tapping against stone.
Arya turned his head slowly, heart hammering. The shadows between the ruins shifted.
And then—
It moved.
A shape flowed from the alley, silent and deliberate. Not walking, not crawling.
Gliding.
It was humanoid.
But wrong.
Its limbs were too long, its head tilted at an unnatural angle. Its skin wasn't skin—it was darkness stretched thin, shifting and pulsing like living ink.
And its eyes—
Hollow.
A void that swallowed the dim light around it.
It didn't breathe.
Didn't speak.
It simply watched.
Arya's fingers tightened around his sword. His heartbeat felt deafening in the silence.
"...That's not a person," Kieran muttered.
Lira's voice was barely above a whisper.
"That's the one who walks between."
The moment she spoke—
It moved.
Not forward. Not backward.
But sideways.
Reality rippled.
One second, it was at the alley's entrance. The next—
It was inches from Arya.
His instincts screamed. He lashed out—
His blade passed through it.
Like slicing through a shadow.
It didn't react.
Didn't flinch.
But Arya felt something cold clamp around his wrist.
And for an instant—
He wasn't in the city anymore.
He was somewhere else.
A void stretching infinitely, a place without sound, without light.
And in the distance—
A figure.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then—
He was back.
Gasping.
The thing had let go.
Arya staggered back, breath ragged. His skin burned where it had touched him, a cold unlike anything he had ever felt.
Eltheris moved. His hand shot forward, fingers tracing a sharp symbol in the air. A burst of light erupted, slamming into the creature—
It screeched.
Not in pain.
In anger.
And then—
It vanished.
A flicker of movement—then gone.
The silence rushed back in.
Arya was shaking. He could still feel the cold in his veins, the memory of that void.
Eltheris turned to him, eyes dark.
"It marked you."
Arya swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"
Eltheris didn't answer immediately.
Then, his voice was grim.
"It means it will come back."
No one spoke.
The weight of those words settled over them.
The city stretched ahead, empty and waiting.
But now, they knew the truth.
They were not alone.
They had never been.
And whatever had marked Arya—
It was only just beginning.