What do will do now?
---
Golden cracks widened, and red smoke escaped through them like a rising storm.
Lila's eyes darted toward the lift. "Will they be alright?" she asked, her voice tight with worry.
"I don't know," Elias admitted. His words couldn't hide the fear pressing on his chest. He stared at the lift again and again until, at last, the faint outline of Marcus's head appeared. Elias ran forward, pulling Marcus and Jonathan out with all his strength. Lila came to help, her hands shaking.
Barely had they escaped when the sky darkened, heavy clouds folding into one another. Purple lightning flashed and the red smoke spread across the field like a living fog.
"Move! The ground's falling apart!" Lila shouted.
They ran toward the car, boots pounding the trembling ground.
"It's not collapsing…" Elias gasped, panting hard. "It's breathing!"
Their steps were heavy and urgent. More cracks opened behind them, spewing red mist. Reaching the car felt like a miracle. Jonathan jumped into the driver's seat, and the others piled in, breathless and shaking.
"The heart is awake," Marcus said quietly.
Driving through the ruined streets was rough. The tires hit broken pavement, the world outside twisting in the storm. Streetlights flickered. The mist thickened into crimson fog. Ahead, faint shapes appeared — people, standing perfectly still in the road.
As the car drew closer, Marcus saw their faces. Eyes wide open. Frozen mid-step. Panic trapped forever.
"This…?" Jonathan whispered.
"Probably the city's people," Elias said, clutching his chest.
"I hope they're still alive," Lila murmured.
The pendant on Marcus's chest pulsed faster. Jonathan felt it too — a burning heat in his palm, like static beneath his skin.
"It's not just beating," he said. "It's calling."
Marcus nodded grimly. "The veins connect every street in the city. If the heart spreads, the city burns with it."
Elias's voice was small. "Then the city's already dying."
---
Far away, on a cracked avenue, Griff stood — half shadow, half man. No one knew how he had come there. The red veins crawling beneath his feet were extensions of his body, moving like living roots. His laughter cracked through the silence, low and awful.
"The king's body returns," he whispered. "The soil remembers."
His shape flickered, pulsing with unnatural energy. Then his smile froze. Golden light coiled around his arm, bright and burning.
Pain. Real pain.
He staggered, clutching his hand. "Why?" he rasped. His voice came out broken, two-toned — his and another's. "Why does her light burn me?"
The gold faded, leaving him shaking, his face twisted in rage.
---
The car came to a stop in front of a small, quiet building with a tall roof and narrow windows. The walls were half-covered in moss, but Marcus could tell it had once been beautiful — a chapel built for peace, now silent and forgotten.
They entered, seeking shelter — any place to think, to breathe, to pray.
The wooden pews were worn and splintered, covered in dust and cobwebs. The altar was bare. The stained glass windows were dull with age, letting in only faint gray light.
Their footsteps echoed across the cracked floorboards.
"What do we do now?" Lila asked, her voice trembling. "If the heart feeds on pride, then every stone in this city is soaked in it."
Marcus glanced around the chapel. "Then we'll find the veins," he said. "We'll end this from inside the wound."
Jonathan frowned. "How?"
Elias sighed, rubbing his temple. "Through the sewers. They run beneath the old quarter… maybe that's our path."
Before Marcus could reply, the pendant flared again — wild, blinding light filling the room. A calm voice, soft but firm, echoed through the glow.
"The light does not retreat. Where it is placed, darkness must bow."
Jonathan's eyes filled with tears. "She's with us," he whispered.
He thought of his sister, his parents, of Anne's laughter and John's voice. He wanted to see them again — to tell them it was finally over.
Marcus lowered his head. "Then we fight from within the veins."
The ground beneath them trembled, and from the distance came screams — faint but real. The mist outside burned, red and gold, and the sky split into two colors, half light, half blood.
They could hear it then — the pulse, deep and endless, echoing through every wall and every stone.
Lila pointed toward the window. "Look at the sky… it's bleeding light!"
Elias's face was pale. "If this is the beginning," he whispered, "what's the end?"
Marcus clenched his jaw. His voice was tired, low. "The heart's awake…" he said. "And the city's starting to dream with it."