The chill in the air didn't belong to the season—it belonged to history.
Liam Routh stood before an enormous brass gate hidden beneath the Forbidden City, flanked by dragon motifs whose eyes seemed to watch his every breath. Voice hovered behind him, flashlight in hand, scanning the ancient murals along the walls. Her white hair shimmered under the golden hue of the lamplight, giving her an almost spectral grace.
"What is this place?" she whispered.
Liam didn't respond at first. His eyes were fixed on the inscription etched into the door's archway. The script was a blend of archaic Chinese and something else—something older, closer to the markings he'd seen in Kael's story.
"Only those who carry truth and burden may enter the Hall of the Hollow King."
Voice stepped closer. "You think this has something to do with Kael?"
Liam nodded. "No doubt."
With a deep breath, he pressed his hand to the dragon's eye. Nothing.
Then he closed his eyes—and spoke Kael's name aloud.
"Kael Solanar."
The chamber trembled.
The dragons opened their jaws. A low, harmonic hum vibrated through the stone walls. The massive gate groaned open by inches, revealing a hallway beyond filled with floating lanterns and a long, narrow staircase descending into pure blackness.
They exchanged a look.
Voice smirked. "We're definitely going to die."
Liam chuckled faintly. "Probably."
They stepped inside.
The air grew denser with each step. Along the walls, fragments of Kael's life began to appear—carvings of battles, etched words in an unknown script, portraits of Kael with companions Liam had only read about. And yet… something was wrong.
"Liam," Voice whispered. "Why does this feel like a tomb?"
And then the staircase ended.
They found themselves standing in a circular chamber with no ceiling—only a sky of endless starlight above. In the center stood a large pedestal… with a book.
Liam's breath caught.
It was the same book from the library.
The Chronicles of the Forgotten Sun.
But as he reached for it, the starlit chamber flickered—like a candle about to go out—and a voice echoed from behind them.
"You should not have come here."
They turned.
No one was there.
"This story was not yours to finish."
A figure began to form in the shadows—hooded, cloaked in midnight, face hidden beneath a porcelain mask shaped like a fractured sun.
The masked figure stepped forward, and Liam instinctively shielded Voice.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The figure tilted their head.
"I am the one who buried the truth."
Liam's heart pounded.
The starlight above shivered once more.
And then—darkness.
To be continued…