Serika's POV
The moment the barrier closes behind me, the world drops into silence. No wind. No guards shouting. No footsteps. Just heavy, cold stillness.
I stumble forward in the dark hallway. The ground feels uneven under my feet, like old stone that has not been touched in years. The air smells thick, almost dusty, but also strangely warm.
My heart pounds so loud I hear it echo against the walls.
"Hello?" I whisper. My voice shakes. It sounds tiny inside the endless darkness. "Is anyone here?"
No answer.
I take another step. Then another. The dark seems to stretch forever. Panic creeps up my spine. What if this place is alive? What if it closes around me and never lets me leave?
A sudden click echoes through the hallway.
I freeze.
Another click.
Then a long row of golden torches burst into flame on both sides of the walls. One by one, they flicker awake, lighting the path in warm fire.
I gasp and jump back.
The flames shine with the same golden color I saw in my veins. The same glow that scared me outside.
Are they reacting to me?
The light grows brighter. Shadows stretch across the walls. The hallway changes from darkness to glowing gold.
I take a slow breath and walk forward.
And I finally see the carvings.
Dragons.
Huge dragons. Carved into every wall. Their wings spread wide. Their eyes fierce. Some look like they are flying. Some are breathing fire. Some are curled around mountains.
The carvings move slightly in the torchlight, almost like the dragons are alive. Watching me. Judging me.
I wrap my arms around myself and keep going.
My footsteps echo loudly. Too loudly. It feels like someone could hear me from far away.
A large doorway appears at the end of the hall. The torches guide me toward it, lighting up one by one as I move. My legs shake, but I force myself to walk.
Kai. I do this for Kai.
I reach the doorway.
It leads into a huge chamber. The ceiling rises so high I cannot see the top. More torches burst to life, lighting the walls in gold.
And when the chamber brightens, I see everything.
Weapons.
Ancient weapons hanging on every side. Spears with glowing tips. Blades shaped like dragon claws. Bows made from bone. Shields marked with strange runes.
Each weapon hums with silent power. Old power. It makes the hair on my arms stand on end.
The room feels alive. Like a sleeping giant.
My throat tightens. My hands grow cold.
Why does this place feel like it has been waiting?
As I step deeper into the chamber, a soft vibration moves under my feet. The air thickens. The torches flicker brighter.
Then I hear it.
A voice.
Not loud. Not soft. But deep. Heavy. Like the ground itself is speaking.
"I have been waiting for you."
I completely freeze. My heart slams against my chest. The voice vibrates through my bones.
"Who is there?" I call out. My voice sounds small. Weak.
No answer.
Only the sound of my breathing.
I turn in a circle, searching for anyone. Anything. But the room is empty.
"Show yourself," I whisper.
Silence.
Then another whisper. Closer this time.
"Serika."
I stumble backward.
It knows my name.
My skin tingles. My arm glows faintly through my sleeve. Panic rises inside me like a wave.
"No," I whisper. "No. Stop doing that. Stop calling me."
The voice does not stop.
"Do not be afraid."
I want to scream. I want to run. But I force myself to stay still. Something inside me tells me that turning my back on this voice would be the worst mistake of my life.
"I am not here to harm you," the voice says. "I called you because your blood answered."
"My blood?" My voice cracks. "What do you mean?"
The torches flare. The carvings on the walls seem to shift. The dragon eyes look alive for a moment, glowing slightly.
The air grows warmer. A pulse beats in the stone floor, matching my heartbeat.
"You carry something inside you," the voice says. "A spark. A flame. A piece of what was lost."
I shake my head fast. "No. I am no one. I am just an Unmarked girl from the slums."
The voice laughs softly. Not cruel. But ancient. Old enough to make the room tremble.
"You are not Unmarked," it whispers. "Not anymore."
My hands tremble. "What does that mean?"
Instead of answering with words, the torches shift their flames. They stretch, forming a path through the chamber. A straight line. Leading toward something in the shadows at the far end.
I do not want to go.
My whole body screams for me to stay away.
But something pulls me forward. Curiosity. Fear. The strange energy inside me.
Every step feels heavier than the last.
When I reach the far side of the chamber, the shadows peel back like fog.
And I see it.
A huge black altar.
It rises from the ground like a mountain of stone. Sharp. Jagged. Wrong. The surface glitters with old stains. Dark stains. Red stains.
Dried blood.
My stomach twists.
This place is not a shrine.
It is a sacrifice chamber.
I step closer without meaning to. My breath goes thin. The torches dim slightly, as if bowing to the altar.
"Come closer, Serika," the voice says. "Look at what waits for you."
"No," I whisper. But my feet keep moving.
My fingers shake as I reach out, even though I do not want to touch anything.
I stop just a few steps away.
Now I can see the marks on the altar clearly. Long scratches. Fingerprints. Dried blood that looks like it was spilled long ago, but never forgotten.
The voice speaks again. This time it feels like it is right behind me. Breathing down my neck.
"This is the place where blood binds fate. Where power sleeps until awakened."
I force myself to look at the dark stains.
"Whose blood is this?" My voice cracks. "What happened here?"
The torches dim even more. The air grows heavy. Cold. Ancient.
"Dragons died here."
My heart stops.
The voice continues.
"And humans became monsters."
I stumble backward. My back hits one of the weapons on the wall. It rattles loudly.
The voice grows louder. Stronger. It fills the chamber like a storm.
"This is the altar of Ignaroth. The last World End dragon. The one who was betrayed. The one who waits for vengeance."
The ground shakes. The flames rise. The walls hum with ancient power.
My knees weaken.
"Why am I here?" I whisper. "Why me?"
The voice's answer is calm.
"Because your fate begins on this altar."
The torches suddenly flare so bright I shield my eyes.
A heavy pulse shakes the entire room.
And when I open my eyes fully, I see something that freezes every drop of blood inside me.
The black altar is glowing.
Not red.
Not gold.
But a deep, evil purple. Like the color of a dying star.
The dried blood rises slightly. Like it is not dead at all. Like it can feel me.
"Place your hand on the altar," the voice whispers.
My breath catches. My vision blurs.
"No," I whisper. "I cannot. I will not."
But the voice does not stop.
"Place your hand on the altar, Serika. See the truth. Awaken what sleeps inside you."
I take a step back.
Then I see something behind the altar.
A symbol.
A giant dragon eye carved into the stone. Its slit pupil glows like fire. It stares straight at me.
Alive.
Watching.
Waiting.
My scream sticks in my throat.
The altar pulses again, the purple glow spreading across the floor like veins reaching for my feet.
I stumble backward, shaking so hard I almost fall.
The voice speaks one last time, deeper and colder than before.
"Come closer, child. Your destiny begins in blood."
The altar's glow surges upward.
And the chamber plunges into roaring darkness.