Their steps came to an abrupt halt, as if caught by the vision rising before them.
The sanctuary seemed to have emerged from another time. A narrow clearing embraced it, bathed in the white, vertical light of midday, filtered through the high branches. The stones, gnawed by centuries, were almost entirely swallowed by ivy and moss. Broken pillars and collapsed tiles gave the impression that a single strong gust could reduce the structure to dust. And yet, it still stood—stubbornly—as though it had been waiting for this precise moment.
Shinome took a step forward but stopped immediately. A strange sensation tightened his throat.
"It's… like everything here is watching us," he murmured.
Reiji frowned, studying the worn façade. The carvings that ran along the walls were nothing more than shadows and cracks, illegible, yet he could make out shapes—perhaps silhouettes—intertwined with symbols he had never seen before.
A soft wind stirred, lifting dust and the damp scent of crushed leaves. There wasn't a sound, save for the faint rustle of vegetation… and yet, the air vibrated, heavy with something ancient.
They slowly made their way around the weathered pillars, moving toward the heart of the sanctuary. There, a massive stele stood, nearly as tall as they were, embedded in a cracked stone base. A vertical fissure ran its full height, but it seemed sealed by a dark substance, like molten metal or some unknown resin.
"It looks… like it was forced shut," Reiji whispered.
Shinome reached out, hesitating to touch. A faint warmth radiated from the stone, a shiver that crept up to his wrist.
"Do you feel that?"
"Yes… It's like… a presence," Reiji replied, uncertain. "Not just an object. It's… alive."
They exchanged a glance, equal parts fascinated and wary. The moment felt solemn, almost sacred. And yet, there was no light, no movement. Nothing. The stele remained still, as if asleep.
Shinome stepped back, letting his gaze wander over the rest of the sanctuary. The collapsed walls formed an uneven circle around the stele, as though to protect it. Here and there, sunken engraved stones peeked out from beneath the moss. It was as if time had swallowed everything, only to give it back to the forest.
A faint crack sounded behind them. Both boys spun around, but there was nothing… just the slow sway of ferns.
"That was—"
"Not an animal," Reiji cut in. "Too heavy."
Shinome stayed still, listening. There was no sound now, as if the sanctuary had swallowed the noise itself. And despite the brilliant light filtering between the leaves, a lingering sense of shadow hung in the air—ungraspable.
Something—or someone—was watching them.
They stood like that for several seconds, muscles tense, waiting for the slightest sign. But the silence returned, and only the breath of the wind in the branches accompanied their breathing.
"We should take a closer look at the stele… or find a way to read the carvings," Reiji finally said, as if to break the tension.
Shinome nodded, but his gaze clung to the dark edges of the clearing, where the midday light struggled to reach.
He felt as if, should they look away for too long, the thing watching them would reveal itself.
Reiji knelt before the stele, brushing his fingertips along the sealed fissures. The dark material filling them was cold to the touch, almost metallic, and seemed to absorb the light.
"This isn't stone… and not any normal metal either," he noted.
Shinome leaned over his shoulder.
"It's like… a mixture. As if someone was trying to lock something inside."
The thought hung between them, heavy and unsettling.
The carvings at the base were clearer than those on the outer walls, as if they had better withstood the passage of time. Yet they remained undecipherable. Some lines seemed to depict a circle cut through with broken marks, others resembled faceless human silhouettes.
Reiji instinctively pulled out his notebook, sketching some of the symbols.
"Maybe we can compare them later… if we find a similar text."
Shinome said nothing, absorbed by a strange sensation: the longer he stared at the stele, the more it felt like an echo was answering his thoughts. Not a sound… more like a diffuse pressure, as though something behind the stone was waiting.
A breath brushed the back of his neck. He spun around, but again, nothing. The clearing remained frozen—every leaf still, every shadow exactly where it had been.
"Did you feel that?" he asked Reiji.
"Feel what?"
"Like… a breath."
"No… but I think we're being watched."
This time, Shinome didn't smile.
They exchanged a glance, scanning the edges of the clearing. At the boundary between light and shadow, a faint movement caught their eye. A black silhouette—or perhaps just a vaguely human shape—stood there. In the blink of an eye, it was gone.
Shinome's heart pounded.
"You saw that?"
Reiji nodded.
"Yes."
They stayed still, throats tight, until a sharp crack sounded—this time to their right. Then another, behind them.
The feeling of being surrounded surged. And yet, nothing moved in the undergrowth.
"Maybe we should… leave," Reiji suggested in a low voice.
"Not yet. This stele… there's something important here. I can feel it."
Shinome placed both hands on the stone. The warmth grew stronger, almost pulsing, like a heartbeat behind the surface. For a fraction of a second, he thought he heard a whisper—a word he couldn't understand.
Then it vanished.
He pulled his hands back, breathless, as though the air had suddenly run out.
"What did it do to you?" Reiji asked, concerned.
"It's like… it was calling me. But it's gone now."
They didn't notice right away that the light in the clearing had changed. The midday sun seemed paler, as if veiled by a thin mist. The forest's colors dulled, and an even deeper silence fell.
Reiji instinctively stepped closer to Shinome.
"This isn't natural…"
At that very moment, a cold shiver swept through the air. The leaves all trembled at once, without any perceivable wind. A crack, closer this time, came from just behind the stele.
Shinome and Reiji shared one last look before turning—slowly…
Behind the stele, the shadows of the tall grass seemed thicker, as if the light hesitated to enter.
Shinome stepped forward, a strange scent rising to his nose—not floral, not earthy, but metallic, almost like… blood.
Reiji frowned.
"You smell that?"
"Yes."
They slowly rounded the stone. Nothing. Just gnarled roots and overgrown ferns. But the scent lingered, stronger now.
A rustle sounded to their left. Reiji turned instantly, but only a lone leaf spun to the ground. Yet Shinome caught something else: a whisper, distant, indistinct. The words were swallowed by the mist that thickened around them.
"I don't like this," Reiji murmured. "It's not just that we're being watched. It's like… the sanctuary itself is holding its breath."
Shinome didn't reply. His eyes stayed fixed on the half-erased carvings, which seemed to shift ever so slightly, as if the lines were twisting at the edge of sight.
Then, suddenly, a deep rumble resonated beneath their feet—barely perceptible, but enough to make them exchange an alarmed look.
"You felt that?"
"Yes… but it was… deep. Like it came from far below."
Silence fell again, heavier than before. The birds had stopped singing, and even the wind seemed gone.
Reiji took a step back.
"We really should leave."
"No… not yet. This place is hiding something, I'm sure of it."
He approached the stele again, pressing one hand to it. The surface, cold at first, turned oddly warm, then burning hot. His breath grew short.
Fleeting images flared in his mind: hooded figures standing before this very stone, a red sky, and… muffled screams.
He tore his hand away, heart racing.
"I think… someone sealed this on purpose. And they definitely didn't want it opened."
Reiji, tense, scanned the clearing.
"Then maybe they're still here… or their heirs are."
A shadow darted between two trees—clearer this time. Too large for an animal. Too fast for a normal human.
Shinome followed it with his eyes, but it vanished instantly.
The sky darkened abruptly, as if a thick cloud had devoured the sun. A damp chill settled in. The metallic scent became unbearable.
Reiji crouched to pick up a fragment of stone that had fallen to the ground, but when he looked up, Shinome was staring past him, face pale.
"Reiji… we're not alone."
There, at the edge of the clearing, silhouettes took shape in the mist—still, barely visible. They made no sound.
A shiver ran down Shinome's spine.
Something about their posture, about the way they stood perfectly still, carried a certainty: they weren't here just to watch.
Reiji straightened slowly, his notebook still in hand, as if it could serve as some feeble protection.
Shinome's hand instinctively went to his belt, ready to defend himself, but his eyes stayed locked on the shapes in the fog.
Then, without a word, they began to move forward.