The air was suffocating.
Lycius felt the weight of the world pressing in from every direction, yet he stood unmoving at the edge of the abyss, watching the city—his city—shudder beneath the sky. The veins pulsed faster now, more erratic, as if they too could sense the impending storm. Around him, the whispers were deafening, drowning out even his thoughts. They clawed at his mind like hands dragging him into the depths of madness, twisting, distorting the world he once knew.
A voice, low and familiar, whispered from the depths of his soul.
"It has already begun."
He turned sharply, the ground beneath him cracking like glass under pressure. The woman stood there again, her crimson eyes glowing with a strange, otherworldly fire. She was no longer the terrified figure he had saved, no longer the victim. She was something else now—a manifestation of the city itself, a creature bound by the ancient pulse that had woken inside him.
"You…" Lycius's voice trembled, though he couldn't place why. Was it fear? Anger? Or something else entirely?
She didn't smile this time. Her expression was cold, hollow. Her gaze pierced him with an intensity that made him feel as though she could see all of his broken pieces.
"It's happening, Lycius," she said, her voice echoing with the weight of inevitability. "The city is alive. And you… you are the key to its salvation—or its destruction."
The words felt like ice, piercing through his chest. He had never fully grasped what he had set into motion when he defied the city's ancient forces, but now it was all coming to a head. The consequences were unavoidable. The truth was unavoidable.
The woman stepped closer, her steps silent on the cracked earth. Each movement caused the crimson veins to pulse in unison, a sickening rhythm that matched the frantic beating of his own heart.
"You think you can stop it?" she whispered, her words like a dagger in the dark. "You think you can change the course of fate?"
Lycius clenched his fists, the pain in his arm flaring again, sharper this time, as if the wound itself was tied to the heart of the city. His left eye burned with a fire that threatened to consume him. He could feel the tendrils of power, the force that connected him to the city's pulse, writhing under his skin, pushing him forward, pulling him deeper into the mystery.
"I'll try," he said through gritted teeth. "I don't care what it costs."
She tilted her head slightly, almost as if considering him. The silence between them felt heavy, as if the entire world was holding its breath.
"You were not meant to understand, Lycius," she said softly. "But you will. And you will regret it."
The ground shook again, more violently this time. Lycius's legs nearly gave out beneath him, but he forced himself to stand tall. He had come this far. He couldn't falter now.
The sky above them flickered, distorting as a new presence stirred—something older than the city itself, something ancient, beyond comprehension.
"Do you hear it?" she asked, her voice now barely above a whisper. "The sound of the veil crumbling? The pulse of the world's heartbeats unraveling?"
Lycius didn't answer. He could hear it now, faint at first but growing louder—a sound like the tearing of fabric, the unraveling of a dream, the disintegration of everything he had known. The fabric of reality itself was coming apart. And in its place, something darker, something far more terrible, was beginning to rise.
The woman's eyes gleamed with a strange, knowing sadness. "It is time."
The ground trembled once more. A deep, guttural sound reverberated from the city's core, a low rumble that shook Lycius to his bones. The veins beneath the earth flickered to life, and the air grew heavy with a sense of finality.
In that moment, Lycius knew that there was no turning back.
The final choice would come soon. And it would cost more than just his life.
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