The temple door was massive.
It wasn't ordinary wood — it was worked stone, so ancient that the symbols carved on it had worn away until they almost disappeared. What remained were only shadows of meaning, echoes of forgotten purpose.
Finn pushed with both hands.
The door yielded slowly, creaking like old bone being forced, revealing absolute darkness on the other side.
The group entered.
The corridor beyond was wide enough for three people to walk side by side. The walls were smooth stone, worked with precision impossible for primitive tools. The ceiling arched above them, disappearing into the gloom that Keara's light could barely penetrate.
And on the walls... engravings.
Steve saw them as they advanced, briefly illuminated by the warm light before returning to shadow.
The first showed human figures kneeling in a circle. In the center, a larger silhouette — not human, but something close — with multiple arms extended as if blessing or cursing the devotees.
The second engraving was more disturbing. People being pushed — or jumping voluntarily, Steve couldn't tell — into a deep hole. The expressions on the sculpted faces were too ambiguous. Fear? Ecstasy? Both?
The third showed the hole again, but now something emerged from it. Humanoid forms, but distorted, deformed, as if they had been broken and reassembled wrong.
Steve felt his stomach turn.
— These inscriptions... — he murmured, unable to look away. — What are they showing?
Finn didn't slow his pace.
— That's why we need to be quick — he said, voice hard. — To prevent this from happening again.
They continued in tense silence.
The corridor stretched endlessly. No windows, no landmarks, just stone and increasingly disturbing engravings. They walked until finally the corridor ended, opening into a wide chamber.
And it was completely empty.
There was no altar. No statues. Just worn stone and some rusted weapons scattered on the floor — broken swords, shattered spears, everything abandoned for decades.
Fog was the first to speak.
— Did that guy trick us?
Dagon frowned.
— Doesn't make sense. Why bring us here if there's nothing?
Finn gritted his teeth, frustration visible.
Then he took a deep breath.
— There's no reason to be discouraged now. There's probably some secret passage in this room. Let's search until we find it.
And they began.
Minutes passed. Frustration grew. Movements became more abrupt.
Finally, Dagon stopped, placing his hands on the wall.
— Shit...
Jelím descended slowly. Her voice came cold.
— Better if I had killed that servant outside.
Steve watched everything from afar, feeling useless again.
That's when something caught his attention.
High on the opposite wall, near the ceiling, there was a symbol. Small. Discreet. But familiar.
The same pattern he'd seen on the cultists' cloaks.
— Hey! — he shouted. — Look up there!
Everyone turned.
Steve pointed.
— That symbol! It's the same one the cultists use!
Finn narrowed his eyes.
— You're right... but it's very high.
Steve was already moving.
— Can someone help me get up there?
— Jelím — Dagon said simply.
The masked woman raised her hands.
Steve felt his feet leave the ground. He rose smoothly until he was level with the symbol.
Up close, he could see better — the symbol was carved deeper than the others. The edges were cleaner. As if it were used regularly.
He extended his hand.
Touched the center.
The stone yielded slightly.
Click.
The floor trembled.
Directly below him, a section of stone began to recede, revealing an opening.
— I FOUND IT! — Steve shouted, unable to contain his joy. — IT'S THE SECRET PASSAGE!
For the first time since arriving in that world, he felt useful.
He wasn't carried. He wasn't saved.
He contributed.
Dagon looked up, genuine pride on his face.
— Good job, boy!
Jelím brought him down.
When Steve's feet touched the ground, he turned to thank her.
And stopped.
Jelím was centimeters from him.
When had she gotten so close?
Through the mask, he felt eyes fixed. Not on his face. Lower. On his chest. Where his heart beat. Where the HUD blinked invisible to everyone except him.
— You... — her voice came out different. Less cold. More... curious? — ...are strange.
Steve felt a chill run down his spine.
— Is there... any problem?
Silence too long.
— Not yet.
And she moved away, returning to floating.
Steve stood still, heart racing for a reason he didn't fully understand.
Finn was already moving.
— Let's go.
---
The corridor beyond was narrow. The walls pressed closer. The claustrophobic feeling increased with each step.
Then they heard it.
Voices. Distant. Muffled.
Many of them.
Not conversations — chanting.
Finn raised his hand, stopping the group.
— Stay alert.
They advanced carefully. The sound grew. Rhythmic. Coordinated. Dozens of voices in disturbing unison.
The corridor ended in more stairs.
Descending.
Deeper. Further from the surface.
They descended slowly. Silently.
When they reached the end, they found themselves in a small alcove — a hidden space behind columns that concealed them from the chamber beyond.
And then they saw.
---
The chamber was colossal.
The ceiling arched too high to see, lost in shadows. The walls curved in a perfect circle, covered with symbols that glowed with their own light — not reflecting, but producing faint and sickly luminescence.
On elevated platforms, hundreds of people were seated. Empty eyes. Mouths moving in synchrony with the chant.
The platforms were divided. One section only women. Another only men. And the highest — only children.
All singing with voices that shouldn't sound so empty.
In the center, there was a throne of black stone.
Seated on it, a figure dressed completely in red. It didn't move. Just existed, radiating presence that made the air seem dense.
In front of the throne, kneeling, was Kairo. His deformed face exposed, the destroyed mouth moving in prayer.
Behind him, dozens of kneeling cultists, singing, lost in devotion.
On the right side of the throne, there was an enormous hole. Black smoke rose in columns, carrying suffocating heat. Occasionally, something gleamed down there — pulsing red light suggesting something alive.
On the left side...
Finn saw them.
---
The world stopped.
It wasn't relief. It wasn't joy at finding them alive.
It was absolute horror.
Diana was there.
Tied from head to toe. The dress he remembered as white and clean was now torn, dirty, stained with things he didn't want to identify.
Her face...
God, her face.
The left eye was swollen, dark purple, almost closed. Split lip. Dried blood running from the corner of her mouth to her chin.
Marks on her arms — not just ropes. Burns. Bruises shaped like fingers where someone had held her with brutal force.
And her belly.
The small curve that carried their future, now exposed by the torn dress, covered in dirt.
Diana was crying.
Not in loud sobs — in silent tremors that shook her entire body. The kind of crying from someone who had already screamed so much there were no forces left. The kind of crying from someone who had given up on being saved.
Finn felt something break inside his chest.
It wasn't a sound. It was a physical sensation — as if something solid that kept him functioning had cracked in half and now all the sharp pieces were loose, cutting from within.
It wasn't rage.
Rage was too small for what he felt.
It was something deeper. More ancient. More absolute.
The hand on the sword trembled.
Not from fear.
From the desire to destroy.
To erase from existence everything and everyone who had touched her. To make them pay in ways that transcended simple death.
The sisters beside Diana were equally broken — bruised, dirty, eyes empty of hope.
Steve recognized them.
— It's them — he whispered. — The girls who saved me.
Finn couldn't respond.
His throat was too closed. If he tried to speak, he knew only an animal scream would come out.
That's when they saw new movement.
Guards entered from the side, dragging another prisoner.
Steve saw her.
And forgot to breathe.
---
It wasn't attraction. It wasn't desire.
It was recognition.
The girl had skin white as freshly fallen snow. Hair that alternated between deep black and silver gray, falling in waves to her waist. Long white dress contrasting with the surrounding dirt.
But it was the eyes.
Green. Gleaming even in the gloom. Not reflecting light — producing their own light, faint but unmistakable.
Steve couldn't look away.
As if every cell in his body screamed that this girl was important. That somehow, somewhere impossible to reach consciously, she was connected to him.
The HUD blinked.
Not the normal, annoying but ignorable blinking.
It blinked violently.
The entire screen exploded in symbols Steve had never seen before. They weren't the usual error messages. They were warnings.
> ALERT
ENTITY DETECTED
CLASSIFICATION: [INCOMPATIBLE WITH LOCAL REALITY]
PROXIMITY NOT RECOMMENDED
SYSTEM ENTERING DEFENSIVE MODE
FRAGMENTATION RISK: 87%
The pain exploded behind his eyes.
It wasn't gradual. It was instantaneous — as if someone had stuck hot needles directly into his brain.
Steve staggered, vision darkening at the edges.
Keara grabbed his arm immediately.
— Steve! Are you okay?!
He wasn't.
Because for the first time since arriving, the system had reacted to something beyond itself.
For the first time, the HUD wasn't just failing.
It was afraid.
Steve forced his eyes to focus again, breathing in gasps.
The girl was taken directly to Kairo.
The guard bowed, pushing her forward.
— Sir — he said, voice echoing. — She is a Nessira.
Kairo slowly raised his head.
When he saw the girl, the smile that appeared on his deformed face was horrible.
— Excellent — he said, sickly pleasure vibrating in his voice. — This will be our best offering of all.
That's when his voice changed.
It got louder. Clearer.
Cutting through the chant like a blade.
— Good thing you arrived.
Steve's blood froze.
Kairo turned slowly, dead eyes finding their hiding place through impossible distance.
— We were already wondering if you would come.
The smile widened.
— Intruders.
Absolute silence fell.
Finn gritted his teeth, stepping out of cover.
— There's no plan anymore — he said, low but firm. — Just fight. Survive. Save as many prisoners as possible.
The rest of the group followed him.
The crowd on the platforms reacted instantly.
Screams. Pointing.
A woman stood up — the Abject's mother.
— That one! — she screamed, pure hatred breaking her voice. — That's the damn boy responsible for my son's death! KILL HIM!
The crowd exploded.
— KILL! KILL! KILL!
Kairo watched with pleasure.
Then he looked at the guards.
— You don't need to hold back. Go all out.
The guards began to transform.
---
The first fell to his knees.
His back arched at an angle human bones shouldn't allow.
CRACK.
The spine broke.
But he didn't scream.
He laughed.
The skin began to tear — not from outside in, but from inside out. As if something larger was forcing passage through an envelope too small.
Muscles contracted in wrong ways. Tendons stretched beyond limit, then retracted violently.
The jaw dislocated.
Wet and horrible POP.
Then dislocated again.
A second mouth opened below the first — not a human mouth, but something wider, deeper, full of irregular black teeth.
Drool began to flow. Not ordinary saliva — black liquid, thick, dripping on the floor with the sound of flesh hitting stone.
But the worst...
The worst were the eyes.
They remained human.
Conscious.
Trapped inside a monster they no longer controlled, forced to watch their own body become a nightmare.
And then it roared.
Sound that shouldn't come from a human throat — deep, distorted, carrying an echo of pain and hunger mixed.
The other guards followed.
One by one.
Simultaneous transformations. Bones breaking. Skin tearing. Mouths multiplying.
Dozens of Abjects.
All turned toward the group.
Kairo smiled.
— Go.
Finn looked at the group one last time.
— I know saying this is being selfish — his voice failed. — But I ask... even if we don't manage to survive... help my family get out of this place.
Jelím stared at him.
— I never thought you'd be this proud.
Finn let out a forced, broken smile.
— Seems everything has a first time.
Dagon observed the running horde. Then looked at his own sword. Sighed.
— You know I was trying to keep it clean, right?
He spun the blade casually.
— Ah, fuck it.
Finn nodded.
Then shouted.
— LET'S GO!
And they ran.
Straight into hell.