The heart of the cave resembled the entrails of a stone creature that had slumbered since time immemorial, a space of suffocating darkness with no visible end, as though light itself had been exiled from it.
The air here was denser, steeped in an ancient scent, a blend of silent stone that had preserved the memory of time, and a chill that seemed to emanate from the very core of the earth.
Drops of water fell from unseen heights, each one echoing faintly, like the whispers of angry ghosts.
The ceiling stones were jagged and uneven, bearing sharp protrusions like the fangs of beasts from bygone eras, glinting faintly under the soft glow of scattered bioluminescent fungi.
Amidst it all, she lay—motionless. Her turquoise armor reflected a faint light in the darkness, its golden edges appearing like sparks scattered through the void.
At the center of her chest-plate, a blue gem pulsed with a glowing rhythm, as if it were the heart of a living being beating slowly—a fragile symbol amidst this absolute nothingness.
She moved at last, a heavy, reluctant motion.
Pain surged through her body as she propped herself up on her elbow; the rough ground beneath offered no mercy to her skin.
Her long red hair—resembling the trace of a bleeding wound—clung to her damp back.
"So, I'm still alive" she thought, with a mixture of wonder and irritation.
Her breath was uneven, but instinctively, she began assessing the damage. Only superficial wounds—nothing fatal. She would survive.
Her blue eyes stared into the cave around her, challenging the oppressive darkness that enveloped her.
She didn't know this place. The last thing she remembered was the cursed gate.
"That damned thing," she muttered, pushing herself up. "Of all places... it throws me here."
The silence was stifling, as though it was part of the stone itself.
Before her stretched a narrow passageway—resembling an invitation… or a threat—spiraling deep into the dark.
There was no turning back.
"Fine," she said, her voice soaked in weary sarcasm, then took her first step.
The cold crept into her bones, but she kept moving, her hand brushing the rocky wall to steady herself.
Veins of metal shimmered faintly under the dim glow of the fungi, fading quickly like stars hidden behind thick clouds.
The farther she advanced, the tighter the tunnel became, the damp walls closing in as if whispering for her to turn back.
The darkness became a weight crawling across her chest—but she continued walking.
"Hold yourself together, Azaros," she told herself, in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "There's always a way out... always."
In the distance, a faint light began to flicker—dim, but real.
Her heartbeat quickened, a sense of hope flowing through her, pushing her forward with steadier steps.
The tunnel led to a vast chamber, so expansive its walls vanished into shadow.
She held her breath for a moment—not because of the hall's size or its darkness, but because of the orbs floating in the air.
Ethereal spheres of light glowed in hues of blue, green, and violet, shifting gradually as if they were breathing.
Their glow reflected on the rocky floor, forming patterns that looked like impossible dreams... or waiting nightmares.
"What is this place?" she murmured, frozen in place.
She blinked, feeling her breath catch in her throat: "This... this is incredible."
The nightmarish aura that had gripped the cave vanished all at once, replaced by a tranquility that felt almost sacred.
Small pools were scattered across the rugged floor, their surfaces faintly gleaming under the light of the glowing orbs.
And at the heart of it all, a massive structure rose—towering in the midst of the darkness.
She stared at it, her brows knitting slightly, then whispered in disbelief: "Is that... a temple?"
Her eyes roamed across the building's features before her voice returned, softer this time: "What is a temple doing in a place like this...?"
She slowed her steps, examining the colossal structure before her.
It was massive, built from pale limestone, eroded by time yet stubbornly standing as if defying decay itself.
Wide steps led to an arched entrance flanked by towering columns.
Each column resembled a masterpiece, intricately carved to depict humans and beasts locked in eternal struggle, their frozen faces etched with a blend of pain and defiance.
"Well..." she said, trying to add a sarcastic tone, though her voice sounded dry, "I guess we've found the heart of the cave."
But her words fell into the surrounding void of silence.
A strange feeling pressed against her chest, not from the air, but from the solemn majesty of the place itself.
This wasn't just an abandoned ancient relic.
It was alive in a way she couldn't explain, a guardian of truths long kept in shadow.
Her eyes were drawn upward, to the dome that crowned the chamber.
At its center was a massive mural, its colors impossibly vivid.
She froze completely the moment her gaze landed on the central figure. A woman with fiery red hair standing triumphant amid chaos. In one hand, she held a severed head aloft; in the other, a sword wreathed in living flame. Around her, soldiers writhed in agony, their bodies consumed by fire.
The mural wasn't just a painting. Its energy was palpable, as though the battle still raged within the stone. And the face... the face was disturbingly familiar.
She whispered, barely audible: "Impossible..."
But the resemblance was undeniable.
The wild hair, the piercing gaze, the aura of devastation. It was like looking at her own reflection, warped by time and legend.
Her skin trembled as a subtle chill crept into her core.
"Lugalbanda, you old fraud," she muttered bitterly, her voice laced with blame.
"You were right all along."
The old sorcerer's words echoed in her mind—those warnings she used to laugh off as nothing more than delusions.
But here, in this forgotten temple, everything was flowing into clarity.
Her fate had been carved into stone long before she was even born.
And nothing—not escape, not denial—was enough to erase it.
"So this is it..." she murmured softly, a cryptic smile curving her lips.
"Seems I was never running from my fate... but walking toward it all along."
She stepped toward the temple with steady steps, and at the threshold, she paused.
Her fingers brushed lightly against a nearby column, and she whispered—her voice filled with awe and defiance: "What secrets have you guarded so fiercely, ancient stones?"
Inside the temple, a faint, ethereal glow bathed the chamber.
The floor was adorned with mosaics, their vivid patterns defying the surrounding darkness.
Columns stretched toward the high ceiling, their surfaces alive with carvings of celestial beings locked in eternal dances.
She moved slowly, quietly, her eyes drawn toward a stone altar resting at the far end of the room.
Its cracked surface bore the marks of time.
On its edges were mysterious symbols, each one pulsing faintly, as if they breathed in rhythm with the room itself.
But it wasn't the altar that caught her attention, it was the severed arm lying atop it.
Massive, of impossible scale.
It was no limb of an ordinary human, but something larger... and greater.
Its fingers extended as long as Azaros's entire arm, and the pale blue skin was pulled tight over massive joints, as if sculpted from ancient stone.
The veins looked like frozen rivers, pulsing with solemn silence.
And the dark ring on its middle finger was no longer just a piece of jewelry... but a decayed shackle.
The cut was savage, jagged, not cleanly severed, but torn with brutality.
She held her breath, her mind struggling to comprehend what she saw.
This was no mere remnant.
It was a fragment of something colossal, a being that once set foot upon the earth in a time long forgotten.
The air around her grew heavier, as if the arm exuded a hidden gravity, an unseen force pulling her in, despite the fear beginning to creep into her depths.
She whispered, her voice hoarse and nearly lost in the heavy silence: "What kind of giant was this...?"
The room sank into an eerie silence.
She stood frozen in place, her eyes fixed on the severed arm, as if afraid that if she blinked, it might move when she wasn't looking.
Her fingers trembled slightly, as though some invisible force was drawing her toward it.
But she suddenly stopped—a deep instinct screamed at her: Don't touch it. Don't awaken what sleeps within!
Yet curiosity was like a starving beast, gnawing at her mind.
One step... then another... until she was just breaths away.
And when she lifted her fingers to touch its cold surface, she felt as though she were touching something ripped from another world.
Then, in a single instant, everything changed.
The moment her skin made contact; a savage burst of energy exploded through her body.
A deadly chill seeped into her bones. A sharp shiver crawled up her spine.
The air around her grew heavy, as if being drawn inward toward the arm.
Then—the arm moved. Its massive fingers trembled slowly, as if waking from a slumber that had lasted for ages.
The faint quiver turned into a slow contraction... Then suddenly, the fingers lunged—clamping down on Azaros like a child grasping a toy.
She felt the air rush from her lungs.
Her voice vanished into a crushed scream, and her words shattered under the weight of the grip.
"No! Let me go!" she cried, but her voice didn't reach beyond the chamber's walls.
The grip tightened.
The force she felt was like a mountain collapsing onto her. She writhed, struggling to slip free, but the arm didn't care.
Then the transformation began... Black matter began to crawl slowly—oozing like a cursed liquid through the gaps in her armor, embedding itself into her skin.
It wasn't just cold. It had weight.
It had will. It had awareness.
It seeped into her as if it were searching for something, something to fill, something to dominate.
Then the black veins appeared.
A first thin thread etched itself across her skin... then another... and another... They pulsed faintly, as if pumping new life into her body, but it wasn't her life.
"No... this is impossible!" she screamed.
Her fingernails dug into her own skin in frantic desperation, but it was no use.
The black substance burned beneath her flesh, crawling without mercy.
The black veins spread, stretching like a network of corruption, coiling around her arm, slowly strangling it, completely subduing it.
The arm was no longer an external threat, it was now part of her, slipping into her blood, into her core, devouring her from the inside.
"Get out of me!" she screamed, her voice cracked with terror and despair.
Then... the itching began.
At first, it was just a faint prickling in the palm of her left hand, but it quickly morphed into a strange sensation, as if her skin itself were moving.
She gasped in shock, eyes locked on her trembling palm.
Then... the change began.
The skin rippled, twisted, as though something were pressing from within... Then an eye opened.
A cold, alien eye, staring at her with cruel mockery.
It was black, like an endless abyss, its narrow pupil pulsing with malice.
Her limbs stiffened.
The shock froze her body completely.
But it didn't stop there.
Beneath the eye, another shape began to form.
A nose. Then a mouth... Two lips curved into a twisted grin, drawn in pure, absolute derision.
"What—?" Azaros cried, her voice trembling, barely believing what she was seeing.
Then the mouth opened.
A sound came forth... like the trickling of water, but laced with a creeping cold that slithered into her depths like a ghost.
"Ahh..." the voice rasped, as if tasting life for the first time after ages of silence.
"What a pleasure... to meet my savior."
Azaros froze. Her eyes widened in stunned disbelief.
The voice was mocking... dark... saturated with triumph.
"How long I've waited for this moment!"
The voice continued, savoring every word it spoke like a dark delight.
"Eons I've spent in the void—watching, lurking, searching for a host worthy of my power. And at last... here we are."
"What are you?!" Azaros shouted, her voice a mix of fear and fury. "And why did you bind yourself to me?!"
The hand's grin widened, as if mockery danced on its lips.
"Me?" The tone was a drop of poison, slow and cold.
"I am an ancient spirit... a power buried long ago. I've been watching you, patiently. And now..."
It laughed, a soft laugh, yet soaked in certainty.
"Now... you are mine."
"I won't let you control me!" Azaros yelled, her jaw clenched with unshakable defiance.
The voice turned smoother, yet dripping with scorn: "Oh, but you have no choice."
Then, slowly, the hand whispered—its voice echoing inside her mind like a warning bell: "I am part of you now... I've woven myself into your very essence.
You are no longer just human... You are an extension of me."
Azaros stared at her palm, her eyes narrowed with anger: "I'll resist you."
The hand laughed; its words laced with cruel certainty: "You cannot resist me... or rid yourself of me. Soon, you will be mine completely. You'll be nothing more than a vessel for my will."
It paused for a breath, as if savoring the taste of its own prophecy, then continued with a voice steeped in ominous promise: "And then... I shall return. I will rule—through you."
But Azaros had never been one to surrender easily.