They didn't speak for a long time after the cathedral doors sealed behind them. The silence clung like dust, heavy and sour.
Riven finally broke it with a grunt. "Well. That went well. Lost a memory, nearly got eaten by a building, and now we're apparently in debt to architecture. Ten out of ten."
Kael's throat ached too much to waste words on sarcasm. He just shot him a look.
Seren scribbled quick, shoved the scrap into Riven's hand: We're alive. That's enough.
Riven read it, made a face, then tucked it into his sleeve like he might keep it. "Hmph. You sound like my grandmother. Except prettier."
Kael almost laughed. Almost.
The corridor beyond the cathedral was different — smoother, more deliberate. In places the stone glimmered faint with carvings that looked like script but weren't any language Kael knew. His Compass twitched toward them, but the needle spun useless, like even it was confused.
The system whispered:
[Condition Updated] Tag: In Debt to the Cathedral. Effect: Encounters linked until debt cleared.
Kael felt the words settle like a hook in his ribs. They couldn't escape that place. Not forever.
They stopped at a broken alcove to rest. Seren stacked her scraps into neat piles, then pulled one free and wrote: Cathedral wants more. It will call us back.
Riven groaned. "Great. The building's a landlord. Next it'll demand rent in stew."
Seren wrote again, sharper this time: Not joke. Dangerous.
Riven quieted, scratching at the shadow still climbing his leg.
Kael leaned back against the stone, staring at the carvings above them. Shapes twisted there — bells, chains, masks. A record of the Labyrinth, maybe. Or a warning. He thought of the altar swallowing his memory. He couldn't even recall what he'd given — just that something was missing, a gap where a picture used to be.
That hollow felt worse than pain.
Seren passed him another scrap. Don't let it take your name next time.
Kael closed his fist around the paper. His throat burned. He rasped: "Not… planning to."
Riven snorted. "Good. If you forget yourself, I'll have to start calling you something else. Like 'Grumpy Bastard.'"
Seren smacked him with her pencil stub.
They sat like that a while, the fire small, the air colder than before. The Cathedral's shadow clung even outside its doors.
Then, faint and patient, the sound came again.
BOOOONG.
It rolled through the corridor, shaking their bones, softer this time — not triumph, not rage. A reminder.
The Cathedral was waiting.