The city was falling apart behind them. The ground cracked with each step they took, the very foundations of Tharion crumbling as the power that had once flowed through the Vein spiraled out of control. Sylas and Alira sprinted through the narrow corridors, the noise of the collapse echoing all around them, but neither dared to stop.
They could feel the walls closing in, the air thick with the remnants of destructive energy that surged from the broken Vein. The deeper they went into the heart of the city, the stronger the force became, as if the city itself were fighting against their escape.
"Keep moving!" Sylas shouted, his breath ragged. He could feel the burn in his chest, the pressure from the raw magic pushing against him, but he ignored it. There was no time to rest, no time to consider the consequences of what they had unleashed. The only thought that occupied his mind was getting out of this place alive.
Alira was beside him, her steps quick and determined. But Sylas could see the fatigue in her eyes, the toll the ordeal had taken on her. Her usual confidence had been replaced with a look of quiet desperation, as if she too knew that the danger was far from over.
"Where do we go now?" she asked, her voice tense. "This place is collapsing faster than we can run."
Sylas looked ahead, narrowing his eyes as he tried to get his bearings. The city's tunnels had always been a labyrinth, but now it seemed like they were running through a maze of destruction. The air grew heavier with each step, and Sylas's instincts screamed at him that they needed to reach the surface—fast. But there was something more pressing, something that gnawed at him. The Vein's power had been released, but Varek's words echoed in his mind.
You're only playing into the hands of something much greater.
That warning, that cryptic message—it wasn't just an empty threat. Sylas could feel the weight of it pressing down on him.
"The surface… It's not enough," Sylas muttered to himself, more to reassure his own thoughts than to speak to Alira. "We can't just run. Varek was right about one thing. The Vein was only part of this."
Alira slowed slightly, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean? What else is out there?"
Sylas's voice was quiet, heavy with the realization that their journey was far from over. "There's a power deeper than the Vein. Something older, something that predates the city. The Veins weren't just conduits for magic—they were a key, a lock to something far more dangerous."
The air seemed to grow colder as they continued forward. Alira glanced around, her hand instinctively gripping her dagger tighter. The shadows around them seemed to lengthen, flickering unnaturally as if something was watching them, waiting for them to make their move.
"We need to stop running and start understanding what we've unleashed," Sylas continued, the weight of his words sinking in. "The magic that was bound here—it wasn't meant to be released. The Veins were a prison."
Alira's face paled as the implications of his words took root. "So, we've unleashed a prison… What's inside it?"
"I don't know," Sylas admitted, his voice grim. "But I have a feeling that whatever it is, it's already making its way to the surface."
Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet rumbled again, this time with an intensity that shook the very bones of the city. A deep, guttural sound followed, as though something ancient and hungry was awakening from a long slumber.
Alira staggered, her hand gripping the wall beside her for support. "Sylas…"
"I know," he said quickly, reaching for her arm to steady her. "We don't have much time."
They ran again, pushing forward through the tunnels, but the vibrations were growing stronger. The walls cracked with each tremor, and debris began to fall from above, sending plumes of dust into the air. The further they went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. It felt as if the very air itself was thick with the remnants of the unleashed magic, like a force that had been waiting for this moment to arrive.
As they neared the exit, the tunnel opened up into a wide, cavernous space. Sylas stopped short, his heart pounding in his chest.
Before them stood a massive stone door, ancient runes etched into its surface. The door itself was cracked, the seal that once held it shut now broken. It had been waiting—waiting for the Vein's destruction to weaken the barrier. And now, it had been released.
A terrible, primal energy surged from the door, overwhelming them both. Sylas's blood ran cold as he stepped back, recognizing the power that emanated from it.
"This is it," Sylas whispered, a chill running down his spine. "This is what we've awakened."
Alira took a step forward, her gaze locked on the door. "What is it?"
Sylas's voice was barely a breath. "It's the source. The true source of the power we've been dealing with."
The door creaked open, slowly at first, but then it swung wide with a force that sent a shockwave through the air. A blast of heat and raw power rushed out, knocking them both to the ground.
Sylas struggled to push himself up, but the force was too strong. The air around them shimmered with dark energy, and as he looked up, he saw it—an entity of pure darkness, an ancient being that had been bound within the chamber for centuries, maybe longer.
It loomed over them, a shape made of shifting shadows and energy. Its eyes glowed with a malice that sent waves of terror through Sylas's chest.
"We've made a terrible mistake," he murmured, his voice hoarse.
The entity opened its mouth, and a voice—deep, thunderous—rumbled from within it. "The Vein was merely a catalyst," it said, its tone vibrating through the very ground. "But now… I am free."
And with that, the world around them seemed to fall away into darkness.