The terrain grew harsher with every step. The soil turned dark and brittle, like scorched bone ground to dust. Jagged rocks formed unnatural paths that spiraled downward into the earth, guiding Rey toward something ancient, something buried not just by time, but by intent.
He knew this ruin wasn't like the others.
It felt alive.
The air thickened, buzzing with pressure. The silence was not peaceful—it was watchful, waiting.
His new spear, carved from monster bone and memory, tapped softly with each step. His injuries still ached, but his eyes—sharper than ever—scanned every crevice and shadow.
At the foot of the canyon lay a massive gate of cracked stone. Unlike the demonic creatures he had seen, this structure bore no signs of corruption. It was… solemn.
Words, long erased, had once been carved into the arch, but all that remained were symbols, nearly identical to the one etched into the fang-spear.
Rey stepped through.
Inside, cold air whispered across his skin like the breath of something slumbering.
The inner sanctum of the ruin spiraled downward—vaulted halls of collapsed stone, silent alcoves housing crumbling statues, shattered armor buried beneath centuries of dust. He moved cautiously, mind racing with observations.
"This wasn't a ruin," he muttered aloud. "It was a sanctuary… a temple."
Not just built to honor something—
Built to seal something.
---
Hours passed as Rey descended.
The temple was a maze, but he followed signs others would have missed—broken pillars revealing hidden corridors, patterns in the dust that spoke of traffic long ago.
He reached a final hall.
The walls bled faint red light from lines in the stone.
And at its center…
A chamber.
There was no monster here.
No traps.
Just a solitary pedestal.
Rey walked slowly, breathing heavier the closer he got.
Then he saw it.
His steps stopped.
His pupils trembled.
He looked.
He froze.
He didn't scream.
Didn't reach for his weapon.
Didn't run.
He simply stared at the thing resting atop the pedestal—unmoving, untouched by decay or time.
Something that should not exist.
Something that remembered him.
And as that silent understanding passed between man and artifact, a tear traced down Rey's cheek.
He turned away, never looking back.
And walked—wounded, quiet, eyes dulled by realization—into the pale red moonlight.
The wind blew behind him, like a sigh from the temple itself.
He didn't know what he had found.
But it had already changed him.
---