The air was cool. Not cold, but crisp enough that each breath felt like ice brushing against the inside of his lungs.
Lucas opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the weight of exhaustion that clung to his eyelids. For the first time in what felt like weeks, his throat didn't burn like fire. His muscles ached, yes—but there was no unbearable thirst, no scream of dehydration rattling his brain.
He shifted weakly and sat up, leaning against the rocky slope beside the river.
The water glimmered under the eternal night sky above—black as ink, scattered with unmoving stars. The river itself shimmered like silver thread, winding through the stone like a living vein.
Lucas cupped his hands and dipped them into the water.
It was cold.
Sharp, clean, and biting against his skin.
He raised his trembling hands to his mouth and drank. Slowly. Carefully. Each sip was like pouring life back into his veins.
'Fuck… that's good.'
He drank again. And again. Until his stomach ached and he had to stop himself.
Across from him, Lyss was still asleep. Her back was to the river, her silver hair spread across her rolled cloak like a halo. She looked calm now—peaceful, even. A strange contrast to the sharp focus and command she usually wore.
Lucas exhaled and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His reflection stared back at him in the water.
Dark eyes sunken from fatigue. Pale skin. The faintest outline of stubble across his jaw. His black hair was a mess, greasy and tangled, and his face was thinner than he remembered.
He looked like a ghost. Or someone halfway to becoming one.
But he was alive.
Still here.
Somehow.
He sat there in silence, just listening to the water, letting his thoughts drift.
'A fucking city under a mountain. A river that glows. A fake sky painted in stars. What even is this place?'
He looked up toward the starlit dome above, then down the slope where the river disappeared into the heart of the vast cavern. Beyond the rising mist and stone spires, the silhouette of that strange city waited in the distance.
Monolithic.
Silent.
Untouched.
The memories of the descent—the hunger, the thirst, the hallucinations—still lingered in his bones. But right now, they were ghosts. Weightless.
For the first time in days, Lucas felt the smallest fragment of clarity.
He let out a tired breath and muttered to no one in particular, "Still not dead."
The platform loomed silently behind them, its surface now covered in a thin layer of condensation. No longer glowing. No longer humming. It just sat there—immense and inert—like the tongue of some ancient beast that had spit them out into the forgotten belly of the world.
Lyss stirred shortly after Lucas had his fill of water. She didn't speak at first. Just sat up slowly, her joints cracking faintly, and looked around with narrowed eyes.
Her expression remained unreadable as she followed the slope down to the river, where Lucas was crouched with his hands resting on his knees.
He glanced at her and jerked his chin toward the water. "Still cold. Still safe."
Lyss knelt, scooped a handful of the river to her lips, then closed her eyes for a second too long.
"I was starting to forget what not dying of thirst felt like," she said dryly.
Lucas snorted. "Mood."
The silence stretched again—comfortable this time. The worst had passed. For now.
They spent the next hour checking their supplies, what little they had. Lyss unrolled her equipment pouch and fished out a few enchanted seals—none of which worked underground. Lucas had nothing but his scythe and his soul. The rest was dust.
The camp they set up wasn't elaborate. Just two cloaks spread across the stone to serve as bedding, with a few large rocks stacked around them to form a makeshift windbreak.
There was no need for fire. The air was still, and not as cold as it should've been for a place so far beneath the surface. The sky of stars above gave the illusion of warmth, even though it offered none.
Lucas stretched his legs and leaned back against a boulder, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
"This place creeps me the fuck out."
Lyss sat beside him, cross-legged and quiet.
"It's too quiet," she said after a pause. "And it's too perfect."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Perfect?"
"No decay. No cracks. No moss on the walls. No wildlife. Even the air feels filtered." Her voice was low, like she was speaking to herself more than to him. "This place has been sealed for gods know how long, and yet… everything's intact."
Lucas followed her gaze to the distant towers glowing faintly across the underground horizon.
They didn't look ruined. They looked frozen in time.
Untouched.
Preserved.
"It's like the world forgot about this place," he muttered.
Lyss didn't respond.
Instead, she leaned back as well, arms folded behind her head, staring at the false stars above them.
Neither of them said it out loud—but the implication hung heavy in the air.
If no one had found this place for so long… maybe it was because no one was meant to.
They rested.
Not because they trusted the place—but because their bodies had reached the limit of what they could endure. A few hours passed in relative stillness, broken only by the faint lapping of the river and the occasional shift of stone as something distant echoed through the cavern.
Eventually, Lucas stood, his muscles still aching but his curiosity refusing to rest.
He climbed one of the nearby rocks to get a better view. From there, the landscape revealed itself more fully—an underground world carved into silence and shadow, stretching far beyond what he'd imagined.
The city lay like a fossilized memory at the center of the hollow.
Its architecture was breathtaking—spiraling towers crowned with crystal domes, bridges woven between buildings like strands of silver thread, and walls carved with flowing runes and intricate patterns that shimmered faintly under the false stars above.
The buildings were tall and narrow, with pointed arches and curved edges, like something grown instead of built. Trees with glowing leaves still bloomed on rooftops, frozen in an eternal season. Small rivers of liquid light ran between the structures, glowing with soft hues—blue, green, violet.
There was beauty here. But also… stillness. Too much of it.
Not a single movement. Not a single sound of life.
No voices. No birds. No signs of flame or breath.
"Dead city," Lucas muttered under his breath.
But just as he was about to look away—he saw it.
In the upper levels of a building near the edge of the city, tucked between two narrow towers, a light flickered.
Not like the gentle glow of the crystals or the ambient pulse of the stone.
This was firelight.
Warm. Flickering. Alive.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Lyss," he called, his voice low.
She looked up from where she was tightening her bootstraps.
"Come see this."
She joined him silently, climbing the rock beside him. Her gaze followed his pointing finger, settling on the building in question.
The flame glowed steadily behind one of the narrow windows—just for a second, then vanished, swallowed by the dark.
Lyss frowned. "That wasn't crystal light."
"No shit." Lucas stepped down, already feeling the unease crawl back into his gut. "Someone's here."
"Or something," Lyss said quietly.
Lucas clicked his tongue. "Of course it can't just be an empty ancient city. That'd be too easy."
They exchanged a look—an unspoken agreement to stay put for now.
No rushing in. Not until they were stronger. Rested. Ready.
For now, the city would wait.
And whatever lived inside it… would too.
The flicker of that distant light stayed with them—etched into their minds like a warning.
Lucas dropped back down from the rocks, dusting off his hands and silently heading toward their makeshift camp. Lyss followed, her steps as quiet as ever. Neither said a word until they both sat again, staring at the darkened city in the distance.
The silence was heavier now. Not oppressive… but dense. Tense.
As if the air itself was listening.
Lucas finally broke it. "If there's something in there… I'm guessing it saw us arrive."
Lyss gave a slow nod. "Maybe. Or maybe it's just another relic like the rest of this place. A defense system. An old flame kept alive by accident."
Lucas let out a dry chuckle. "Right. Ancient magic that still knows how to light a damn fire."
She didn't smile.
Instead, her eyes drifted back to the skyline—toward the shadow of the castle towering above the city, its spires still aglow with that haunting golden light.
"We're not going in," she said.
Lucas blinked. "...You sure about that?"
"For now," she clarified. "We're not ready. Neither of us. That city is… too quiet. Too preserved. Which means it's either protected, watched over, or something worse."
Lucas didn't argue. He wanted to. He always did. But even he could feel it in his bones.
That city wasn't a gift. It was a test.
And walking in unprepared would be suicide.
"Alright," he said after a beat. "We wait. Rest. Eat when we can. Then maybe scout from the edges."
Lyss nodded once, already beginning to unstrap her gear. "And keep watch at night. We don't know what rules this place follows. Or if anything else is watching us."
Lucas leaned back, stretching out his legs as his eyes trailed to the stars above.
Even the sky felt wrong here.
Too perfect. Too fake.
It made him feel small. Trapped.
Like he was being observed through the lens of some ancient, sleeping god.
'Yeah. Rest. That's a good idea. Before we get ourselves fucking eaten.'
He let the silence stretch again, but this time, it didn't feel quite so heavy.
Because now they had water.
They had time.
And in a place where everything else was lost to history…
That was a luxury.
The fire they had built crackled softly, its warmth reaching only a few feet beyond the edge of the rocks they sat against. It was a small flame, more for comfort than defense—barely enough to chase away the cold that crept from the stone.
Lucas sat with his back to the platform, arms resting on his knees, eyes locked on the distant city.
That flicker of firelight… it hadn't returned.
But he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Not because he was afraid.
But because he wasn't alone down here.
He pulled his knees in tighter, resting his chin on them, watching the stars above as if they'd offer some kind of answer.
'Someone's down there…'
It was obvious.
And the more he thought about it, the more possible it seemed.
The last Day of Transfer had only been a few months ago—just before spring started. Every year, on that cursed first day, every sixteen-year-old was dragged into this world whether they were ready or not. Most landed in controlled zones, near Strongholds. Somewhere safe.
But not everyone.
Not everyone was lucky.
Lucas had been thrown into a black desert, alone. Nearly died his first night. If he had ended up in a place like this…
'Then others could have too. Maybe someone else landed here. Got stuck. Or worse… maybe they never left.'
He let out a slow breath, his fingers curling slightly.
What if that light had come from someone like him?
A survivor?
Or… was it bait?
Something pretending to be human?
The thought coiled around his gut like cold iron, but he didn't push it away.
He needed to be cautious—but he also needed to be ready. Because whether it was another human… or not, they'd probably cross paths eventually.
This place was too damn big to be empty.
Lyss sat nearby, sharpening her blade with long, steady strokes. Her expression was unreadable, but he could tell she was thinking too.
Watching. Listening.
Just like him.
"Don't let your guard down," she murmured without looking up. "If someone's been here all this time… they've had years to prepare."
Lucas nodded slowly.
'And I've had weeks… perfect.'
He closed his eyes and leaned back, letting the heat of the fire seep into his sore muscles.
Tomorrow… they would decide.
But tonight?
They would rest.
The fire dimmed as the hours passed, its embers glowing faintly in the dark.
Lucas lay on his side, wrapped in his cloak, staring out across the stone field that led toward the city's towering silhouette. He could see the faint shimmer of the crystal spires beyond, reflecting the false stars above. There was no movement. No sound.
Just silence.
The kind that pressed on your chest when you tried to breathe too deeply.
The kind that made you feel like something was listening.
He shifted slightly, trying not to wake Lyss. She sat only a few meters away, resting against the same rock wall, arms folded and eyes closed—but he doubted she was asleep. Not really.
Awakeneds could train themselves to stay alert even in rest.
Especially someone like her.
Lucas turned his gaze skyward, toward the dome that had fooled him earlier. It looked like a sky. Felt like it. But it wasn't. No wind. No clouds. No moon.
Just those perfect, cold stars watching from above.
'You ever wonder if this place is watching us too…?'
The thought came unbidden. He pushed it aside with a grunt and rolled to face the fire instead.
Still… he couldn't help thinking about that flame.
It hadn't flickered again since sunset, but he couldn't convince himself it had been a trick of the light. Someone—or something—was down there.
And if that was true…
They weren't alone in this city.
Whether it was another human who'd survived down here, a remnant of some ancient people, or a creature pretending to be one—none of it mattered.
They would have to deal with it eventually.
He closed his eyes and let the faint warmth of the fire cradle him.
His body ached, his thoughts wouldn't quiet, and the ground was hard as hell—but for now, they were safe.
Safer than they'd been in days.
He let his breath slow.
Sleep came reluctantly.
And somewhere in the dark, the stars continued to shine.