The village was gone.Only bones and black stone remained.
Snow dusted the ruins.But no sound. No birds. No wind.
Vael stepped first.The ash didn't stick to his boots.Like it feared him.
Reylen walked beside Nyra.Her face was pale.
"This was home," she whispered."I played here... once."
They passed the burnt well.A child's doll sat beside it, untouched.Eyes melted.
Reylen knelt, picking it up."Why's this still here?"
Vael answered without looking."Some things linger. Some things rot.This one chose to watch."
The crown pulsed again.Stronger.
Vael turned to the chapel remains.Half its spire still stood.Cloaked in shadow.
He walked toward it.His steps were slow.
"Nyra," Reylen said, "what's under there?"
She didn't answer.Her hand shook.
Vael stepped through the shattered doorway.A hole in the stone floor.Perfectly round.Old.
The air inside pulsed.Like a breath waiting to be exhaled.
"The Door," Nyra whispered behind him."It was sealed… until now."
Vael didn't speak.He stared into the dark.
Whispers crawled up the tunnel.They spoke in broken tongues.Calling him. Naming him.
Reylen backed away."I don't like this."
Nyra was trembling."I remember this feeling… when they dragged us here."
Vael stepped to the edge.
The crown burned.And for a second—he saw.
A city beneath the village.Stone towers sunken in black.A throne of bones.And at its center—a chained god, screaming without sound.
He fell backward.Sweat on his face.
"They built this place on top of it," he gasped."Over a prison."
Nyra nodded slowly."I think… that's where they fed the Relics.To keep it quiet."
Vael stood again."No more feeding."
He looked down.
Only one way now.Into the deep.
Reylen grabbed his arm."If we go in, we may not come out."
Vael's eyes glowed dimly."Then we find something worth dying for."
They tied ropes.Lit torches.
And one by one—descended into the dark.