The corridor beyond the circular chamber was narrower, the ceiling low enough that Kael had to hunch. Every sound seemed amplified here—the rasp of his breathing, the soft scuff of the woman's boots, the faint metallic clink of the shard in his coat.
But under it all… something else.
A sound too faint to name, like a heartbeat heard through water. Slow. Patient. Following them.
Kael's hand brushed the wall as they walked. It wasn't smooth stone anymore—it shifted, the surface flexing faintly under his fingers, as if it were breathing. He pulled his hand back fast.
The woman didn't look at him, but her voice was tight. "Don't touch the walls."
They passed a junction where the shadows didn't behave. Instead of pooling naturally, they clung to the floor in odd, deliberate shapes, like ink stains. Kael stepped around them instinctively, though he didn't know why.
The heartbeat grew louder.
"Something's wrong," Kael said.
"It knows you now," the woman replied. "You didn't just fight in there—you called it."
"I didn't call anything."
She glanced at him then, eyes cold in the lantern light. "The shard you carry did."
Before Kael could argue, the ground shuddered. Dust drifted from the low ceiling. The corridor behind them… shifted. The walls bent inward, closing the path they had just walked.
Kael stumbled back. "It's moving—"
"It's hunting."
From the darkness ahead, a scraping sound rose—metal dragging against stone. Not the quick darting of the Collectors. This was slow. Heavy. Deliberate.
The woman pulled her blade again. "Run."
They didn't need to be told twice.
The corridor bent sharply, then opened into a wide chamber lined with pillars carved in spirals. But the pillars moved subtly, rotating with grinding noises, shifting the layout of the room.
Kael glanced over his shoulder—and froze.
The thing that followed them wasn't like the Collectors. It was bigger than a man, hunched and wrapped in something like wet leather. Its face was a flat mask, split by a single vertical crack that opened and closed like a mouth. From the crack came a low, continuous whisper in a language Kael didn't know but somehow understood.
Give it back.
The shard in his coat felt hot.
Kael didn't realize he had stopped moving until the woman grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. "Don't listen!" she hissed.
The creature entered the chamber without hurry, its limbs bending wrong as it moved between the rotating pillars. Every step it took left a faint smear of black fluid that hissed when it touched the ground.
The woman pointed toward the far side of the room. "There—go!"
They sprinted, dodging between pillars as the grinding grew louder. Kael could hear the thing gaining—not running, but somehow closing the space between them anyway.
A pillar shifted just ahead, blocking their path. The woman ducked low and slid under it, her movement practiced. Kael tried to follow but his coat snagged on the stone.
The whisper was right behind him now. Give it back.
Kael wrenched free and dove under the pillar just as something cold brushed the back of his neck. He didn't look back.
They burst through a narrow gap at the far wall, stumbling into another corridor. This one sloped down sharply, the floor slick with condensation. The sound of the creature didn't follow.
Kael bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. "What—what was that?"
"One of its Mouths," she said, as if that explained everything. "They speak for the Labyrinth."
"And it… wanted the shard."
Her silence was answer enough.
Kael touched his coat, feeling the shard through the fabric. It was no longer just a strange object—it was alive, and now the Labyrinth knew exactly where it was.
Somewhere behind them, deep in the shifting halls, the heartbeat returned. Faster this time.