The chamber's stillness returned, but it no longer felt comforting. After Susan's awakening, the energy in the room had changed. The air didn't hum with ancient magic anymore — it whispered, like breath brushing across the back of their necks.
Lucy glanced around nervously. "Do you feel that?"
Peter nodded slowly. "Yeah. Like we're being… watched."
The others stood in the center of the chamber, beneath the tall glowing obelisks. Three of them now dimmed — crimson for Tom, emerald for Frank, and crystal blue for Susan. Their trials were complete. Their symbols glowed softly under their sleeves, their auras different — marked.
But something else had awakened with them.
Frank turned to the largest obelisk — the central one at the far end of the chamber. It hadn't glowed until now, but it pulsed faintly with a color none of them could name — somewhere between black and violet, like ink mixed with starlight.
"That one wasn't lit before," Marcus muttered. "Was it?"
"No," Frank said quietly. "And it's not one of ours."
Tom stepped forward. "Then whose is it?"
A sound echoed through the chamber — not from the walls, not from above, but from inside their minds. A low, scraping voice, like steel grinding across stone, barely more than a whisper.
"They awaken… just as the moon begins to weep…"
The torches flickered violently. The flames twisted into unnatural shapes — skeletal hands, screaming faces, weeping eyes. Then they snapped back to normal, as if nothing had happened.
Kitty stumbled back. "Did… anyone else hear that?"
"We all did," Jack said. His voice was flat. Cold.
Frank's face had gone pale. "That wasn't a voice from this room."
"Then where?" Susan asked.
Frank turned slowly to face the others. "From him."
They were silent.
Lucy's voice was small. "You don't mean—"
Frank nodded. "Kazakare Umsakata."
Marcus snorted. "That guy's dead."
"No," Frank said. "He disappeared. A decade ago. After burning half of Cindervale and leaving the Triggsen Temple in ashes. They never found a body. No trail. Just… silence."
"But why now?" Tom asked. "Why would he care about us?"
Frank stepped toward the strange obelisk. "Because we're awakening what he failed to control."
The obelisk pulsed again. Just once. Then the chamber dimmed, and a swirl of black mist poured from its top. It floated in the air, slowly spinning, before hardening into a shape — a triangle made of obsidian, surrounded by runes that none of them could read.
And then… a single eye opened inside it.
Blood red. Vertical slit. Not drawn. Not magical.
Real.
The group staggered back.
Jack's hand went to his side instinctively, though he had no weapon. Peter raised his torch, but it dimmed, no longer burning properly. Susan reached for the diamond shard she had summoned during her trial — but it cracked in her palm.
The eye… blinked.
Frank stepped forward. "Don't move."
"You're kidding," Marcus whispered. "It's a floating demon eye. Why not move?!"
"Because," Frank said, "it's not watching all of us."
He looked at Jack.
The eye twitched, then narrowed — locked directly on him.
Jack met its gaze. His heartbeat slowed. Something ancient crawled into his mind, whispering truths he wasn't meant to hear.
"You've seen the river… haven't you?" the voice said inside his skull.
He blinked. "What?"
"The river of death… the black shore… you stood at its edge. And you didn't look away."
The others stared. Jack took a step back, hand trembling.
"What's it saying?" Susan asked.
But Jack didn't respond. He was locked in place. The chamber faded around him.
In his mind, he stood on a black riverbank. A red sky churned above. Bones lined the shore. A ferryman without a face waited in the distance, holding a staff made of ribs.
And across the river… something waited.
Not a creature.
Not a demon.
A throne.
Empty.
But he felt it calling.
The voice came again.
"You were marked at birth. The boy who dreams of endings. You are not one of the seven… You are the first of the last."
The river surged, waves of shadow rising like walls. The throne across the shore glowed — not with power, but with absence. Emptiness made real.
Then he was yanked back.
Frank had placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jack!"
The mist shattered. The eye blinked once — then exploded into black ash, disappearing into the air like smoke on water.
Jack collapsed to one knee, gasping. He looked at his hand.
There was a mark there now.
A simple black dot in the center of his palm, like a single eye.
"What happened?" Tom asked.
Jack shook his head slowly. "I saw… a river. Bones. A throne. I think… something's already inside me."
Lucy knelt beside him. "You're not hurt?"
"No. Just…" He looked up. "I don't think it's a demon. I think it's something older. It didn't want me to fight. It wanted me to inherit."
Frank's voice was quiet, almost reverent. "The Death Sigil."
Susan's eyes widened. "But that's one of the forbidden marks."
"There are no forbidden marks anymore," Frank said. "Not with Kazakare watching us."
Jack clenched his fist. The dot on his hand pulsed once, then faded.
"Let him watch," he said coldly. "I'm done running from shadows."
But none of them said the truth out loud.
Kazakare hadn't just watched them.
He had reached through the cracks of the world… and touched one of them.
And whatever came next — trials, wars, awakenings — they would no longer be alone in this journey.
They were being hunted.