And then I saw them.
Creeping in from the shadows, crawling down the walls, slipping through cracks in the ceiling — dozens of little things.
Thin, long-limbed horrors, skin like wet leather, fingers too many to count. Their eyes glowed yellow — not like light, but like fire. They clicked their jaws together, dragging themselves across the walls like cockroaches that learned how to hate.
"WHAT THE HELL—" Rex screamed.
They lunged.
Everything went to chaos.
One of them dropped straight from the ceiling onto Rex. He screamed, flailed — and then ran, shoving Marcus aside. We all turned, sprinting down the hall as the swarm chased us, scraping and hissing.
A stone column cracked from above, we didn't even see it coming, it crashed down on Rex.
His blood sprayed, his bones cracked, his scream was cut in half like the rest of him.
"REX!" Marcus shouted, but we didn't stop, and we couldn't.
The creatures were gaining. Eli slipped but I caught him, dragging him forward as Marcus and Dane barreled ahead. The air was a storm of dust and screams.
A deafening roar shook the earth, followed by an eruption of fire from the corridor behind us.
When I turned, Marcus was on fire.
Flames clung to his body. He ran blindly, flailing and screaming, before collapsing in a heap of burning meat.
"No!" Dane lunged back, but I grabbed his arm.
"It's too late! He's gone!" He stared at me, face blank, lips trembling, we didn't get to mourn.
The creatures were still coming. More now. Crawling out of every dark space, their yellow eyes lighting up the shadows like dying stars.
Then one of them jumped.
Right onto Eli.
"LU—LUCA—AAAHHH!!"
They swarmed him.
Biting. Ripping.
I froze. My body wouldn't move. His hands reached for me, clawing at the air, blood pouring from his neck.
"HELP ME!"
I RAN.
I ran like a coward. Like the murderer they always said I was.
His screams echoed down the corridor as I turned, tears in my eyes, lungs burning, soul breaking.I turned a corner — and froze.
A group of figures stood in a clearing of smoke and red light. Cloaked in armor that shimmered like obsidian and starlight, their weapons glowed with runes I couldn't understand. They moved like gods — fast, brutal, graceful — cutting down the creatures like they were nothing.
And then they saw me.
Dozens of glowing eyes turned toward me — not yellow. These ones… were human.
The war had arrived, and I was right in the middle of it.
I stood frozen, breathing like I'd swallowed fire.
The warriors—if that's what they were—surrounded me without a word. They didn't walk. They glided, like shadows sculpted into human form, blades still dripping with whatever black ichor pumped through those creatures' veins.
They looked human.
One stepped forward. His armor was different—sleeker, layered in dull gray plates that shimmered faintly under the chapel's broken moonlight. He wore no helmet. His face was too young, too perfect. Smooth skin. Black eyes like endless ink.
He raised a hand, I flinched, expecting death, instead, the world… paused.
Everything stopped. The wind. The fire. Even the flickering torches on the walls froze mid-flicker.
"What the hell…" I whispered.
The man stepped closer, studying me like I was an animal in a glass box.
"You don't belong here," he said. His voice sounded like it echoed from two places at once.
I didn't answer. My throat was raw. My legs shook.
"Your soul isn't attuned. You have no Marker. No Seal. No Thread. And yet…" He tilted his head. "You're here. You saw them. And you survived."
"I didn't survive," I croaked. "They're dead. All of them."
He blinked once. Slowly.
"That's how it always starts."
I wanted to scream. Punch him. Do something. But my body wouldn't move.
Another voice came from the shadows. Female. Sharper.
"He's unmarked. He shouldn't even be able to see the Rift. Let alone cross it."
"Maybe they brought him in," another said.
The gray-armored one raised a hand and silence fell.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Lucan." My voice cracked. "Lucan Rath."
He narrowed his eyes like the name meant something. Then slowly turned to one of the others.
"Mark him."
A woman stepped forward. Blonde, pale, cloaked in light armor and carrying a rod etched in glowing blue. She raised it—and I tried to back away, but invisible hands gripped my limbs.
"What are you—"
The rod touched my chest, it burned. Not like fire, like memory.
Images flashed across my mind—my parents screaming, my grandmother praying, Eli's outstretched hand covered in blood. The monsters. The flames. The knife. My reflection in the alley mirror, cold eyes and hollow skin.
The pain faded.
A new heat bloomed on my chest, just below my collarbone. I looked down—and saw a mark. Circular. Faintly glowing. A kind of symbol I couldn't understand, made of intersecting lines and a single black dot in the center.
He turned. "Come with us."
"I don't even know who you are!"
"If you stay here, you'll die. If you run, you'll die slower. If you come with us… you might live long enough to understand what's already started."
My fists clenched. I wanted answers. I wanted Eli back. I wanted to undo all of it.
But the world didn't care what I wanted.
So I followed.