Falling didn’t feel like falling.

  There was no rush of wind, no sickening drop in Kael’s stomach—just a steady descent through crimson light, like sinking into a living vein. The glow pulsed around him, warm and suffocating, carrying whispers that scraped against his thoughts.

  Not words.

  Instincts.

  Hunger. Cunning. Survival.

  Kael tried to scream Lena’s name, but the sound died in his throat. The mark beneath his collarbone burned hotter with every passing second, spreading heat through his ribs, his spine, his skull. Images flashed behind his eyes—teeth snapping shut, bodies scattering, laughter echoing in the dark.

  Hyena laughter.

  He hit the ground hard.

  Stone cracked beneath his back as the light collapsed inward, plunging him into darkness. Kael gasped, air flooding his lungs like he’d been drowning. His hands clawed at the floor, finding rough rock slick with something warm.

  Blood. Not all of it his.

  The chamber was vast, circular, its ceiling lost in shadow. Thick pillars rose around the edges, etched with the same ancient symbols—but here, they were broken. Defaced. Clawed.

  “You’re awake.”

  The voice didn’t come from one place. It came from everywhere.

  Kael rolled onto his side, forcing himself upright despite the screaming protest from his muscles. “Show yourself.”

  A shape peeled away from the darkness near one of the pillars.

  It was humanoid, tall and lean, wrapped in layered cloth that looked scavenged rather than worn. Its face was visible—too visible. Sharp cheekbones, a wide mouth curled into something between a grin and a snarl.

  Its eyes glinted amber.

  “Still defiant,” the figure said. “Good. That means you might last.”

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  Kael staggered to his feet. His interface was still gone—no status, no limiter, no safety net. Just raw sensation and the pulsing heat in his veins. “Where is Lena?”

  The figure’s grin widened. “Alive. Afraid. Learning.”

  Rage surged up Kael’s spine, hot and reckless. The chamber reacted instantly. The symbols flared red, the ground trembling beneath his boots.

  The figure raised a brow. “Careful. This place listens.”

  Kael froze, forcing his breathing to slow. “Who are you?”

  The figure stepped closer, boots crunching on broken stone. “Once? A survivor. Now?” It tapped its chest. “A Remnant.”

  Kael frowned. “Of what?”

  The Remnant laughed—and this time, the sound was unmistakable. A low, rippling hyena’s cackle that echoed off the pillars and sank into Kael’s bones.

  “Of you,” it said.

  The mark on Kael’s chest exploded with pain. He dropped to one knee, teeth clenched, vision blurring as something shifted inside him. Not awakening—not fully—but stirring. Stretching.

  “You’re lying,” Kael snarled.

  The Remnant crouched in front of him, eyes level. “Am I? You touched the Core and it answered. But it didn’t choose you.”

  It leaned in closer. “It remembered you.”

  Fragments slammed into Kael’s mind—memories that weren’t his. Running through firelit ruins. Outsmarting something vast and cruel. Laughing as stronger enemies fell because they underestimated speed, teeth, and numbers.

  “You were never meant to carry this,” the Remnant said softly. “You were meant to be consumed by it. Like the others.”

  Kael forced himself upright, swaying. “Then why am I still standing?”

  For the first time, the Remnant hesitated.

  “Because someone interfered.”

  The shadows at the far end of the chamber shifted.

  Heavy footsteps echoed—measured, deliberate. The crimson symbols dimmed, as if afraid.

  The Warden emerged from the darkness, coat immaculate, golden eyes fixed on Kael with something dangerously close to relief.

  “There you are,” the Warden said. “I was hoping you wouldn’t break.”

  Kael laughed—short, bitter. “You call that hoping?”

  The Warden ignored him, turning to the Remnant. “You’ve said enough.”

  The Remnant’s grin sharpened. “You’re late.”

  “Intentionally.” The Warden raised a hand, and the air itself seemed to tighten. “Step away from him.”

  Kael felt the pressure immediately—an invisible weight pressing against his chest, trying to force him down. The mark flared in protest, heat surging back twice as strong.

  “No,” Kael growled.

  Both figures turned to him.

  The Remnant looked delighted.

  The Warden looked alarmed.

  “You don’t understand what you’re resisting,” the Warden said. “That thing inside you—”

  “—is mine,” Kael snapped. “And you don’t get to cage it.”

  The pressure shattered.

  Cracks spiderwebbed across the floor as raw power burst outward from Kael, uncontrolled and wild. The pillars groaned. The symbols screamed.

  Somewhere above them, something vast stirred.

  The Remnant laughed openly now. “There it is. The laugh beneath the dark.”

  The Warden stepped back, eyes wide. “Stop him. Now.”

  The Remnant didn’t move.

  Instead, it whispered, “Do you hear it, Kael?”

  The laughter returned—louder this time.

  Closer.

  And from the shadows behind the broken pillars, eyes began to open.

  Many of them.