Alex woke feeling strangely calm.
No dreams. No whispers. No layered breathing curling at the back of his skull.
Just quiet, normal morning.
The kind of quiet that did not feel peaceful so much as abandoned, like a house after everyone had moved out and forgotten to tell him.
He lay there a moment, listening for something that never came.
A part of him missed it.
The realization unsettled him enough that he sat up immediately.
Sunlight leaked through the curtains, pale and harmless. The bedroom looked ordinary and safe.
He pulled on a sweatshirt and walked barefoot down the hall.
Mia stood at the counter pouring coffee. The smell grounded him instantly, bitter, warm, familiar. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled, but the smile paused halfway, as if checking him first.
''Morning.''
''Morning.''
She slid a mug toward him. Black coffee with no sugar. Exactly the way he likes it.
They sat across from each other while sunlight stretched across the wooden table. Dust drifted lazily between them.
For a while neither spoke. Mia traced the rim of her mug with one finger.
''Alex.''
He looked up.
She took a slow breath.
''Tell me what really happened in that cave.''
The surface of his coffee trembled, a faint ripple that smoothed itself before he could decide if it had truly moved.
''You sure?'' he asked quietly.
''I don't want the edited version.''
He gave a thin smile.
''Occupational hazard.''
Then it faded.
''The lights died,'' he said. ''Not flickered. Not failed. Just… gone. Like something swallowed them.''
Mia watched him steadily.
''There was a glow deeper inside. Red. I thought it was another explorer.'' He shook his head faintly. ''It wasn't.''
He told her about the altar. The veins in the stone. The book that seemed to drink the light instead of reflecting it.
''My body moved,'' he said. ''I was telling it not to, but it didn't matter. It felt like… when your leg falls asleep and doesn't belong to you anymore.''
Mia's fingers tightened slightly around her mug.
''What happened when you touched it?''
He stared past her shoulder.
''I understood something.''
''What?''
''I don't know.'' His voice thinned. ''I just remember the feeling of it making space inside my head.''
The overhead light flickered once. Neither looked up.
''I woke outside,'' he finished. ''No memory of leaving.''
Silence pooled between them.
Then he said, very quietly:
''There's something else I didn't tell you.''
Mia stilled.
''The night at my parents' house.''
Her shoulders lifted almost imperceptibly.
''When I slammed the table… I wasn't just angry.''
He struggled for the right words.
''The room felt too exposed. Too bright. Everyone looking at me. Asking questions.'' His jaw tightened. ''And for a second I thought-''
He stopped.
Mia leaned forward slightly.
''Thought what?''
''That I wanted the lights to go out.''
The words seemed to lower the temperature of the room.
He continued before he could lose the nerve.
''Not like a passing thought. It felt… deeper. Like stepping backward into shade on a hot day. Relief.''
Mia did not move.
''And when the darkness hit…'' His throat tightened. ''I wasn't scared.''
Her eyes flickered.
''I felt better,'' he whispered.
The admission hung between them.
''Then the candles came back,'' he said. ''And all I could think was how much I didn't want them to.''
Mia blinked slowly.
''You didn't want the light,'' she said carefully.
''No.''
The word sounded wrong even to him.
A long silence followed.
The refrigerator hummed softly. Somewhere outside, a car passed.
Finally Mia spoke.
''Did it feel like the same darkness as the cave?''
He hesitated.
''Yes.''
It took her a moment to absorb his words. When she spoke again, her voice remained gentle, but something underneath it had shifted.
''I don't think you're crazy.''
Relief loosened his chest slightly.
''But I do think something is changing how you react to things,'' she continued. ''And I don't want us guessing at what that is.''
He watched her carefully.
''You're not… scared of me?''
The question slipped out before he could stop it. She considered it longer than he expected.
''I'm concerned,'' she said honestly. ''There's a difference.''
He nodded once.
''I think you should talk to someone,'' she went on. ''Not because I think you're broken. Because whatever touched you down there might still be touching you now. And we both need some help with understanding that.''
He looked down at his hands. They appeared steady. Normal.
''I'll go,'' he said quietly.
Relief moved across her face, small, but real.
''Soon,'' she said. ''Maybe tomorrow...''
She reached for her phone. She found an opening quickly. When the confirmation appeared, Mia frowned slightly.
''Two seventeen.''
Alex's stomach tightened.
''What?''
''The appointment time. 2:17 p.m.''
For a moment the kitchen seemed dimmer. He said nothing.
Mia leaned over and kissed his temple.
''Thank you.''
After she left the room, he turned his hands over again. Still steady. Still his.
The sunlight shifted behind a passing cloud.
The kitchen softened into shadow. Without thinking, he exhaled.
Relief brushed through him, quiet but unmistakable.
Then the sun returned. And the relief vanished with it.
He froze.
Why did that feel… good?
The radio, that has been turned off the whole time, crackled. Both of them went still.
Static bled softly into the room.
Then a voice emerged.
It was clear...and close...
Alex...
Mia's breath caught, sharp enough that he heard it.
The radio snapped dead. Neither moved.
Very slowly, Mia whispered:
''Was that… coming from here?''
He stepped toward the radio and touched it.
The plastic was warm.
Behind him, Mia said his name again.
''Alex...?''
Softer this time.
Not calling. Just checking.
As if making sure the thing that answered to it was still the man she loved.
Alex stared at the silent radio.
And for the first time since the cave, a thought surfaced that chilled him far more than the whispers ever had.
The darkness hadn't followed him.
It might have become a part of him.