For centuries, the world has turned a blind eye to the cracks in reality—places where the ancient and the impossible bleed into the modern day. But when a hidden vault is unearthed in Germany’s Black Forest, seven strangers across the globe begin to hear the same whisper.

Each of them holds a piece of a horrifying puzzle:

A haunted archaeologist in Germany.

A professor in Japan whose dreams predict death.

A French detective chasing a killer that leaves no trace.

A Spanish journalist obsessed with a conspiracy that ruined his life.

A psychic in Serbia who sees a truth too dark to bear.

A fallen priest in Scotland running from what he once exorcised.

And a hacker in Italy who unlocks a forbidden code on the dark web.


As ancient horrors stir and reality begins to fracture, they must uncover the terrifying truth behind The Veilbound—a secret society guarding humanity from what lurks just beyond sight. But the seal is breaking… and something is coming through.

They don’t know each other.
They don’t trust each other.
But they are the world’s last chance.

Character POV: Inspector Damian Drexler


He'd replayed it thirty-seven times. The woman's voice, the static, the urgency in her warning.


> "Elara Voss is still alive. But if she enters the city beneath—we're all dead."


Drexler didn't know an Elara Voss. Not personally. But the name was suddenly showing up everywhere.


That night, he broke into the secured Interpol archive facility under the guise of a late-night file request. No one questioned him. He had clearance. But deep inside the labyrinth of cold cabinets and metal shelves, he found what he wasn't supposed to.


> Case 1997-Ψ13: BLACK MOUNTAIN INCIDENT


Status: Sealed by International Order 9


His fingers trembled as he slid the folder out.


Inside: grainy black-and-white surveillance photos. A small excavation team in the German Black Forest. Faces blurred. One woman identified—Elara. Standing beside a stone arch inscribed with spirals. Behind her…


Its head twisted at an impossible angle.


A man, standing off to the side of the dig site. Face half-turned. Holding a notebook. Wearing a coat with a badge on it.


Not someone who looked like him. Not a doppelgänger.


Same hair. Same scar under the left eye. Same tired stare.


But the photo was dated August 12, 1997.


Back in his apartment, Drexler poured whiskey with shaking hands. The photo sat on the table like it had teeth.


And why… did the photo feel familiar?


That's when he saw the notebook in the image—the one his double was holding. The same notebook he now kept locked in his desk drawer, full of half-mad sketches he didn't remember drawing: spiral doorways, weeping statues, cities with no sky.


A single message. No sender. No number.


> "The door is waking. You've stood before it before."


He rushed to the drawer, unlocked it, and pulled out the notebook.


On the very last page—something new had appeared.


A sketch of a room. And in that room: Elara Voss and Kenji Watanabe.


Chapter 9 - CHAPTER 9 THE PHOTOGRAPH THAT SHOULDN'T EXIST