Rain fell as they descended the mountains. It wasn't normal rain—it was too warm, and it smelled faintly of ash. The trees hissed as it touched their leaves.
At the forest's edge, a figure stood unmoving.
Cloaked in black, with a face covered by a porcelain mask etched in glyphs Yang couldn't decipher. The figure made no sound, but Yang felt the gaze pierce through him.
Zhou reached for the camera instinctively, but the stranger lifted a hand.
A whisper echoed through the air—not spoken, but projected.
"One seal undone. Four echo in silence. The Core remembers."
Yang stepped forward, but the figure was gone.
Vanished into mist.
They arrived at the base town by nightfall. The lights flickered as they checked into a small guesthouse. The front desk clerk stared at them too long. Her smile was fixed, her eyes wrong.
"Enjoy your rest," she said. "Dream carefully."