They walked until the rock changed. The walls grew taller, the air thinner, and the torches threw long, hungry shadows. The corridor opened into a yawning space and Kael felt cold all the way down to his bones.
A cathedral, but not one for prayers. Stone pillars rose like rib bones. Statues stood in the dark, their faces chipped away, mouths open as if in the middle of a sound that never finished. Strings of bells hung between columns, ten, twenty, more — some whole, some cracked. The place smelled of dust and old incense and something like dried paper.
Kael kept his hand on the Key. It was a small thing to hold against this much stone, but it gave him the same tiny steadiness as a breath. The word Hollow burned low in his chest, the carved name on that other wall still fresh in his mind.
Riven ran a hand along a pillar, thumb tracing a groove. "Big place," he said, voice too loud. "Fancy. Think they've got good stew in there, or just guilt and echoes?"
Seren crouched beside a slab, reading the furrows. She wrote a scrap and pushed it at Kael: Watch the names. They mean things here.
Kael read it and kept his eyes moving. Names. The Ledger never stopped. Even here, carved lines ran like veins through the stone.
The system cut in as if the building itself were a mouth:
[Room Detected: The Silent Cathedral] Rule: Offer what the altar asks. Fail: Warden notice increases. Warning: Aspect — Silence.
Kael's throat tightened. Silence. The Burden he already carried tasted like iron. The lab of stone wanted that silence stitched into them.
They moved forward. The center of the cathedral held a raised altar ringed with low pews of broken stone. On the altar lay a polished plate, dull as a moon. Around it, small tokens were scattered — bones, coins, scraps of writing.
A walker in a hood knelt by the altar, murmuring to himself. He looked up like he'd felt the blood move in their veins and then slid back into the dark.
Kael stepped closer. The altar had letters carved shallow along its edge. He leaned in, reading the chipped words: Give to keep. Keep to leave. Leave to be remembered.
Riven poked a coin at the altar with his toe. "What does it want? Food? Joke?" He made a face. "I didn't bring my charity."
Kael touched the plate with two fingers. A thin sound ran across his bones, soft as a thread. The system's voice in his mind was almost clinical.
[Altar Query] Offer: Token / Memory / Name Choice must be unanimous.
Seren scribbled fast: Token first. Memory if needed. Name never. She pushed the scrap into Kael's hand.
They had tokens — just a few. Kael felt them at the bottom of his pouch like small bright lies. He thought of the ledger, of the Debt Collector and the bell rooms. Tokens bought food. Tokens could get you through a door. Tokens could also buy you a price.
Riven shrugged and set a token on the plate. It clicked once and vanished, swallowed by a shadow that smelled like old coins. The altar hummed. A small stone bridge slid from the altar toward a dark arch, thin and slick.
[Trade Accepted: Token] Bridge extended.
Riven grinned. "See? Works. Easy. Who needs memories?" He shoved the token like he'd done a good thing.
Kael didn't smile. The altar wanted more for every step. The bridge stopped halfway across a pit of green-black water that smelled of old voices. Above, the bells trembled like held breaths.
The system added without mercy:
[New Demand] Double cost on next trade. Echo drain on refusal.
Kael felt the weight like a hand on his ribs. Double cost. They had a few tokens left — not enough if the price jumped. He thought of the Key, of the way it could bend stone. He thought of using it and how the Tide always took something back in turn.
Seren's pencil flew. Use memory. Substitute not ours. She jammed a scrap into Kael's hand and showed him the small carved box at her hip — folded papers, a scrap of her own past. She'd saved things. She offered without words.
Riven made a face. "Memory? You want me to give up a funny day? Too rich for me." He poked the bridge with his sword tip. It quivered.
Kael thought of what the altar might ask. Name never — Seren was right. Name feeds the Ledger too fast. Token now would be cheap. Memory would be expensive, but maybe bearable.
He closed his eyes. He could feel something at the edge of his mind — a picture of a shore, a child skipping stones. He didn't know whose memory that was. He'd seen it in a bell once and it hadn't been his. He cupped the memory like a small bird and handed it to the altar with trembling fingers.
The plate drank it like smoke. The bridge trembled and stretched, stone sliding out to meet them.
[Memory Accepted] Bridge extends. Echo +1 (Kael).
Pain like a small cut opened in Kael's chest. The Echo pulled a thread from him. He staggered. The word Hollow felt louder.
They crossed, step by careful step. The bells above began to ring, soft at first, like someone testing a throat. Each ring made the bridge shrink a finger's width. The altar wanted them to keep offering.
Halfway through the last span, the bells stopped. Silence fell so thick Kael could hear his own blood. From the dark beyond the arch, something moved.
Statues along the chamber turned their cracked heads, as if the suffering in the stone had been sleeping and then woken to watch. From one shadow a shape slipped free — tall, wrapped in pages and quiet like a grave. Not quite a man. Not quite a thing. It moved without sound.
Riven hissed. "Nope. Not a fan." He reached for the sword, but the system cut across Kael's mind again.
[Warden Signal] Masked Presence Detected. Retreat advised if unprepared.
Kael's fingers closed on the Key. The altar's plate glowed faintly, thirsty for another offering. The bridge had shrunk in the bells' silence. Behind them, the cathedral hummed like a throat preparing to swallow.
Seren shoved a scrap into Kael's palm: Pull back. Now. Her eyes were wide and steady.
He didn't want to leave. Something in him wanted to finish what they'd started — to carve a path through this place. But the Ledger had teeth, and the masks were awake. Retreat wasn't shame. It was survival.
He twisted the Key into the seam at his feet. Stone shivered, the small bridge pulled back a slow breath. They all ran, boots slipping on wet stone, hearts hammering.
Behind them, a low sound rolled through the pillars, deep and patient.
BOOOONG.
It struck the cathedral like a hand on a table. The sound shook down into Kael's bones and left the taste of metal in his mouth.
They tumbled out of the great doors and the stone slid closed with a sound like a lock. Kael leaned against the cold, sucking air. The altar had taken a memory and left a mark.
The system's last voice in his head was not soft.
[Trial Incomplete] Note: Cathedral interest increased. Tag: In Debt to the Cathedral.
Kael felt the words settle in him like dust. They had crossed the bridge. They had been seen. The cathedral would not forget.
He pressed his hand to his chest where the Key hid, and he thought of the ledger wall, the carved name, and the way the world kept writing. They'd live to try again — or the Labyrinth would force them back.
BOOOONG.