The door was open when he arrived.
Cold air spilled from inside like the house itself had lost its breath.
His mother stood by the kitchen, staring at the wall — no, through it. The air shimmered, faintly glowing, like heat from a hidden fire.
"Don't go near it!" she shouted as he stepped forward.
But it was already reacting to him — the hum returned, stronger, syncing with his pulse. The glow in his veins lit up again, matching the wall's rhythm.
"Mum… what is that?"
She hesitated, tears brimming. "Something I prayed would never find you."
The wall cracked — light bursting out like veins of lightning. A low sound echoed, not of this world. And through the crack, he saw it — a shape. Human, yet not. Watching.
He froze. His mother whispered something under her breath — a prayer, or maybe a spell. The light flared, and everything went silent.
When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in the kitchen.
No roof. No walls. Just endless darkness — and that voice again.
"You've awakened too soon."