The door creaked softly as Alicia stepped inside. She reached for the old box of herbs, sliding it closer to the table. A few jars bumped together quietly.
"Careful," muttered Natan from behind her, approaching and lifting the heavy book from the shelf. "If you break something, no one will save you from the curse."
"Your concern is touching," she replied without turning around.
"And your manners, as always, are charming," he countered, but without malice. There was something softer in his voice. Quieter.
Alicia arranged the herbs in order. Carefully. Too carefully.
"You know you don't have to come with us," Natan said suddenly. "You can stay. You have enough reasons. These spirits hate you. And maybe they're right. I won't hide it—it scares the hell out of me."
She froze mid-motion.
"I know," she said after a moment. "But that's exactly why I'll go. Because if their deaths weren't meaningless, it's only if we do something with that knowledge. If we stop whatever caused it."
Natan watched her silently.
"You don't always have to be responsible for everything," he said. "You're not. You're yourself."
"And you?" she looked at him suddenly. "Who are you, Natan? Because all this time, you've been doing everything to look like you don't care. Like you're only helping out of reason."
A tense silence fell.
"It doesn't matter," he finally said quietly. "If anything happens to you… it won't matter."
Alicia stepped closer. Her heart hammered like a drum.
"Then let's make a deal," she whispered. "You protect me, and I'll protect you. No matter what. And somehow, we'll both get out of this. Deal?"
Natan didn't answer immediately. Their eyes met like blades clashing. But then he nodded. He didn't hide that he was surprised by her words. After all, this was Alicia… the school's haunted little lunatic.
"Deal."
For a second, there was something more—something that could have happened, but didn't. Alicia just smiled faintly under her breath and reached for the next jars.
"And now, Mr. Hero, stop getting all emotional and help me find the myrrh oil, because without it, the ritual won't move an inch."
Natan snorted, but this time without sarcasm.
"And you stop being as stubborn as a mule, and maybe someday I'll admit we could become friends."
"I'd sooner poison your tea."
For a moment, their laughter clashed with the old silence of the pantry—like a spark lighting up the darkness.
***
Leon sat on his bed, leaning his back against the cold wall. In his hands, he turned over an old, tattered photograph he had found some time ago in the library—the only one that had survived from his previous life. Though it was faded, he knew who it depicted: Sara and Alan, with gentle smiles and eyes that showed no fear despite everything that had happened.
He heard a soft knock. The door creaked open, and Nadia stood there, a blanket draped over her shoulders.
"May I?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. She sat down beside him, leaving only a few centimeters between them. They were alone; Natan was helping Alicia with the herbs, and Sebastian was playing in the classmates' room.
"Can't sleep?"
"I can't," she admitted. "Too many thoughts. Too many… memories that aren't mine, and yet are inside me."
Leon handed her the photo.
"It's her," he said softly. "Sara, your mother, when she was seventeen. She's beside Alan. Back then… when I was Alan. I loved her. I saved her with my own sacrifice. The General… he destroyed everything. But I was foolish. Naïve. I thought I could beat him at his own game."
Nadia looked at the photo, then at Leon.
"Now you're someone else. Stronger. And you're not alone."
For a moment, they stared into each other's eyes—as if through those glances not only their thoughts but also the echo of a past life, of that unfinished story, were passing. In that single moment, everything merged: past, present, fear, hope.
"I'm afraid of losing you," Leon said, almost inaudibly.
Nadia took his hand.
"You won't lose me. No matter what happens, I'll find you. In this life—and in every other. It's just… Alan… even though he and my mother loved each other deeply, it seems they weren't meant to be."
Leon lowered his head, resting his forehead against her shoulder. They remained silent for a long time, but it was not the silence of emptiness. It was a silence in which courage was born.
***
The corridor was plunged into thick darkness. Alicia's phone flashlight barely illuminated a few meters ahead, casting pale light on dusty walls and crookedly hanging paintings.
"When I said we could take the main corridor, I wasn't joking," Natan muttered, glancing behind them. "This corridor looks like a place where people disappear forever."
"Only cowards disappear," Alicia replied dryly. Yet she slowed her pace.
Their footsteps echoed too loudly, as if something in the depths of the darkness was answering them. Alicia tensed her muscles. In her hand, she gripped a small bag of herbs that smelled sharp and pungent.
Suddenly, it became colder. Much colder. The air thickened, as if a damp veil had slid over them. The flashlight flickered. And then she saw it.
Figures emerged from the mist—three, maybe four—translucent but distinct. A woman with a torn face. A boy with empty eyes. A man with cracked hands. Their shapes shimmered, as if their presence wasn't entirely real, yet their gazes were. Focused solely on them.
"Alicia…" Natan croaked, stepping back and nearly colliding with her. "Do you… do you see them? The ghosts? They… they know who you are?"
Alicia took a step forward.
"I know who they are," she whispered. "The ghosts of the victims. Souls the General sacrificed to gain power. They are trapped in these walls. Terrified. And furious."
"They hate everything that lives," Alan said, now almost pressed against her back. "Alicia… what do we do?"
She closed her eyes for a moment. She could feel it—their pain. Fear. The echo of despair. But also… fear of something greater. Of him.
"They're afraid of him," she said softly. "Not me."
The woman's ghost stepped forward. Alicia held her breath. Natan let out a quiet groan and grabbed her arm.
"Don't move," she said without turning her head. "If they're scared, it means he's approaching. We have to get out of here before…"
All the lights went out.
For a second, they were enveloped in total darkness. In it, only a whisper could be heard—indecipherable, jagged, as if coming from inside the walls themselves.
Alicia grabbed Natan's hand and ran quickly toward the main corridor.
"Don't let go of me," she shouted. "Not even for a second."
"Even if you wanted me to, I won't let go," he panted.
Behind them—a howl. Piercing, animalistic. But the corridor was already empty by the time they reached the door.
***
The room looked like an old crypt—vaulted, stone walls, a few old candles that Nadia had arranged in a circle, flickering quietly. In the center, on the floor, lay a map of the underground, marked with a fresh chalk sketch by Leon. Next to it were ritual herbs, protective amulets, Maria's old book, and vials of elixirs.
Alicia and Nathan were the last to enter. Their faces were pale."You're late," Leon noted, looking up from the cards."Spirits," Alicia muttered. "By the chapel. We saw them clearly. They're afraid of the General.""So he's moving again," Leon said, frowning. "I tried to sense him earlier, but… he's cleverer. He hides, as if he's waiting."Nadia nodded, nervously intertwining her fingers."He knows we're close. But the spirits… they can help. If we manage to free them, they could turn the course of the ritual. They are part of his power, bound in the sacrifice. If they're released—he will weaken.""But we have to descend to the ritual level, right?" Nathan asked, a hint of fear in his voice. "Where the spirits are thickest. Where it all began.""Where it will all end," Alicia corrected coldly, though her fingers trembled.
Leon stood up. He looked at each of them individually."This is our last chance. If we separate, we lose. If we start doubting, we lose. But if we stay together, just as we are now… maybe it will be enough."
Nadia stepped toward him, lightly touching his hand. Alicia glanced at Nathan out of the corner of her eye. He looked away, then quietly added:"All right. But if something happens… we come back for each other. Even if someone gets taken. We leave no one behind."
"Ready?" Alicia asked. Her voice was firm, but her gaze was soft."Always," they replied almost simultaneously.
And together, without another word, they began preparations to descend into the underground. Behind them, like a shadow, the door to the corridor leading to the ritual level creaked on its own, as if something were waiting on the other side.
The stone slab in the floor opened with a grind, as if untouched for decades. The interior exhaled dampness and cold—air thick with incense, blood, and something… older. Older than the place itself.
"No one should come down here," Nathan said, inspecting the walls, which were etched with protective symbols. Some of them were crossed out."And yet, here we are," Alicia muttered, a purple pouch of herbs hanging around her neck. "Because if not us, then no one."
Leon went down first. Every step thundered in his chest. With every meter downward, the tension increased. Something inside him rebelled. The General could feel them approaching.
Nathan stayed close to Alicia, his face pale, his hand clenched around the amulet. He whispered a prayer taught by his grandmother. He felt as if the walls were listening.
Nadia touched one of the stone walls, closing her eyes. She had seen this place in her dream—through Hanna's eyes. Screams. Blood. A ritual that should never have happened."This is it…" she whispered. "This is where it all began. Where my great-grandmother… where she tried to stop him, even though it started with her, and she was killed."
They reached the bottom of the underground. Before them stretched a long hall—black pillars, a floor covered with intricate spirals of ash and blood. In the center—an enormous, cracked mirror covered in cobwebs. And a circle. A sacrificial circle.
Leon stood at the threshold, his breath suddenly quickening. Something inside him broke. A shadow flickered across his pupils—the General moved."Leon?" Alicia stepped toward him. But he did not respond.
Nadia extended her hand cautiously."He senses him. We must be quick. This place is not only the source of the General's power. It's… a prison. But also a gateway."
Then the floor beneath them shook. Shadows began seeping from the dark corners. Spirits. Their faces were twisted in pain. They circled them, not touching, but whispering."Help us…" they whispered. "Set us free… he… he holds us…"
Nathan began to retreat, but Alicia grabbed his hand."Breathe. They won't harm us. They don't want us. They beg for rescue."
Then a voice rang out from the other end of the hall. Low, distorted, inhuman."You've come again for my soul."
Leon grimaced, as if something tore him from within."No… this time we've come for your end," Liz hissed.
From the darkness emerged a figure. Once human—now the shadow of himself. The General. Wearing a military coat, with empty eyes and a smile that reached none of them."Interesting," he said slowly. "How many of you will survive this night?"
The shadows of the spirits thickened, wrapping around the walls and the vaulted ceiling. Each of the heroes took their place in the circle. In their hands, amulets glowed, herbs smoked slowly, and the voices of ancestors whispered from beyond the veil between worlds.
Nadia, with trembling fingers, recited the words of the ritual, written by her great-grandmother's hand in the book. She spoke in a language she did not know. Her voice echoed like from another life.
Alicia stood in the center of the circle, eyes closed, holding a protective symbol in her hands. She was the anchor. She had to hold Leon before the General tried to break free.
Leon knelt, half-conscious. He breathed heavily, his body shaking, an inner struggle tearing him apart."Hold him!" Nadia shouted as a wave of energy rebounded from the circle and slammed against the walls. The candles went out, one by one.
The spirits moaned—some disappeared into the light, others spun faster, increasingly restless.
And then Leon raised his head. But it was no longer Leon."Ah, so this was a trap," a voice hissed. Too deep. Too confident.
Alicia opened her eyes. She saw the gaze she knew from paintings, from the memory of her soul's reincarnation. The gaze of the General."Leon…?" she whispered, taking a step.
The General smiled, and everything happened in an instant.
A gust of power threw Nadia and Nathan against the wall. The circle shattered. The herbs caught fire. And the General advanced—swiftly, with a force not of this world.
Alicia tried to defend herself—raising her hand, reciting the final phrase of a protective spell. But the General was faster.
He grabbed her by the throat, lifting her above the ground. In his eyes, there was nothing but triumph."You… reincarnation of the one who betrayed me. Your soul recognized me too. You came to me of your own will."
Alicia hissed, trying to break free, tears flowing from her eyes—not from fear. From anger."You will never be the master of this place…" she whispered.
But the General only laughed."I already am."
Then he threw her to the ground. She hit the cold stone, breathless, powerless. Blood trickled from her shoulder, eyes closed.
"Alicia!" Nathan shouted, trying to get up, but the spirits held him in place.
Nadia crawled to her, grabbing her hand. She was still alive. But unconscious.
Leon—actually no longer Leon—raised his hand, and shadows began to gather around him. His silhouette started to change, features sharpening, eyes glowing with inhuman light."Thank you," said the General, in Leon's voice. "Without your little ritual, I could not have fully been reborn. But now… now I am free."
The circle flared anew—with a fire they could not control. And then… silence.