The cavern was colder without him. Not in temperature, but in presence—like Yurin had taken something with him when he left, something that had been keeping the atmosphere just barely breathable.
Clara sat against the stone, her body still trembling. The storm had passed, yet its echo clung to her veins. Every pulse of her heart carried a faint vibration, a reminder that the Architect was still inside her. Watching. Waiting.
Damien crouched at her side, flames flickering faintly in his palms. Not blazing like before—gentle, like a hearthfire. "Stay with me," he murmured. "Don't let his words dig in. Yurin's… he's playing a game we don't see yet. You don't have to be what he says."
Clara lifted her gaze. Her eyes looked more tired than afraid. "You heard him, Damien. He doesn't see me. He sees the Vessel. That's all I've ever been to him. Maybe that's all I've ever been to anyone."
"That's not true." Damien's voice sharpened with heat, his flame flaring brighter. "You're you. And if he can't see it, that's his blindness. Not yours."
Evelyn, leaning against the opposite wall with her arms folded, exhaled through her nose like she'd been holding back for too long. "Okay, I'm gonna say what neither of you wants to: he's not wrong."
Damien spun toward her. "Evelyn—"
"No, listen." She pushed off the wall, stepping into the dim glow of his flame. "I don't trust Yurin. Honestly, if he told me water was wet, I'd check the river twice. But he's not lying about what you are, Clara. You're not just carrying this thing—you're entangled with it. And pretending otherwise is exactly how it'll eat you alive."
Clara swallowed hard, her hands knotting in her lap. She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream that she wasn't some pawn on a board. But Evelyn's words hit too close to what she already feared.
Damien clenched his fists, jaw tight. "So what? We give up? Let Yurin decide what she becomes?"
"No," Evelyn said firmly. "We decide. She decides. But that means facing the truth head-on, not running from it like you want to."
The tension between them sparked like fire against stone. Clara felt it building, felt the heat of Damien's anger and the sharpness of Evelyn's blunt honesty pressing in on both sides. Her heart pounded faster, and with it—so did the hum.
Thrum.
The Architect's rhythm, faint but steady, bleeding into her nerves.
She gasped, clutching her chest. "Stop—both of you!"
They froze immediately. Evelyn's face softened. Damien extinguished his flames with a sharp breath.
Clara forced her breathing to slow, but it felt like holding back a tidal wave with her bare hands. "Every time you fight… it gets louder. Like it feeds on conflict. Please—don't."
Silence fell. Heavy. Uncomfortable.
Finally, Evelyn crossed her arms again, though her voice was gentler this time. "Then what's the move, Clara? Because Yurin's already gone, the world's cracking under our feet, and apparently you're the time bomb holding it all together. I'd love to hear a plan that isn't 'wait and see.'"
Clara closed her eyes. She remembered Yurin's last words: She is almost ready.
Almost ready for what? To collapse? To surrender? Or to become something neither she nor the Architect could predict?
Damien placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then we don't let him decide. We find our own way. If Yurin's preparing the world for something, then we beat him to it. Whatever comes, we meet it together."
Clara opened her eyes. For a brief moment, Damien's conviction steadied her storm.
But the ground beneath them suddenly trembled, interrupting the fragile calm. Dust fell from the cavern ceiling. A low rumble echoed through the fissures, like the groan of something ancient shifting in its sleep.
Evelyn swore under her breath. "Tell me that was just an earthquake and not, you know, the apocalyptic force of doom stretching its legs."
Clara rose unsteadily, her breath uneven. "It's the fissures. They're spreading."
The stone wall behind her cracked, jagged lines glowing faintly with the same geometric sigils Yurin had left. The air buzzed, threads of crimson energy leaking through like veins of fire.
Damien pulled her back. "He's already moving. Whatever he's doing down here—it's starting."
Clara's pulse quickened. She could feel it, like an invisible tether pulling at her chest. The Architect's presence stirred faintly in the fissures, not guiding her, but calling to her.
She bit her lip. "If Yurin's right, the world won't survive this unless…" She trailed off, the words choking in her throat.
"Unless what?" Evelyn pressed.
Clara's voice broke as she whispered, "…unless I stop running from it."
No one spoke. The cavern's rumble grew louder, and the crimson light crawled across the walls like veins of a living thing.
Clara pressed a hand against the fissure. The hum surged inside her, synchronizing with the glow. For the first time, she didn't recoil. She leaned in.
And the fissure answered.