The cracks on the obsidian floor pulsed, faint red light bleeding through them like veins beneath blackened skin. Kaelen's jaw clenched as he felt it — a heartbeat. Not his. Not Seralyn's. Something far deeper.
The Citadel is alive.
The skulls along the walls flared, cold blue flames igniting in hollow sockets. Their jaws opened wider, and the air shifted with each collective exhale, the temperature plummeting as a chorus of whispers rose like a tide:"…kneel… feed… the light must die…"
Seralyn tightened her grip on her staff, silver glyphs spiraling around her wrists to keep the voices out. Her voice was taut. "It's not just him, Kaelen. This place is breathing. Watching us. It wants us dead."
Kaelen adjusted Lumenbrand in his hands, but his knuckles were white. Every step forward felt heavier, as if the floor resisted him, dragging at his boots like tar. He forced his voice steady. "Then we cut through him, and this cursed fortress with him."
The heartbeat deepened.Thud. The skulls' flames pulsed.Thud. The cracks spread wider, a dull glow leaking out like molten veins.Thud. Kaelen's own chest matched its rhythm, unwilling, each breath shallower than the last.
Vorath still sat upon the Throne of Skulls, unmoving. His crimson eyes gleamed faintly, watching, measuring. Then, with a casual motion, his hand drifted to the weapon beside him.
When he drew it, the world seemed to hold its breath.
The sword — Nox Obscura — was forged of a black so deep it devoured the faint light around it. Along its spine, shadowed sigils writhed as though alive, crawling in slow, deliberate patterns beneath the surface. The air grew colder, thinner, as though the blade were leeching warmth from the chamber itself.
The whispers died at once. Even the Citadel seemed to pause.
Kaelen's gut twisted. This wasn't a weapon. It was a wound in reality itself.
Vorath rose from the Throne, the curved blade dangling at his side as if weightless. His gaze swept the two intruders, calm, dismissive — as if measuring not warriors, but corpses.
"You feel it, don't you?" His voice was smooth, unhurried, yet it carried across the hall as if the walls themselves echoed it. "The Citadel breathes. It listens. It knows you. It will taste your bones before dawn."
The heartbeat thundered louder. The skulls hissed and laughed, a cacophony of voices filling every corner of the room.
Kaelen gritted his teeth and forced his legs to move, every muscle burning. "Whatever this place is, Vorath… it dies with you."
Vorath chuckled softly. The whispers stopped as if silenced by command.
"You think I stand apart from this place?" He planted Nox Obscura's tip on the ground with a faint tap. The Citadel tremored, the skulls snapping their jaws in unison.
"I am this place."
The flames within the Throne's skulls all flared at once, turning toward Kaelen and Seralyn like a thousand unblinking eyes.
Kaelen ignited Lumenbrand, silver fire roaring along its edge, casting the only true light in the suffocating dark. It flickered, already faltering against the pressure.
The whispers surged again, louder, drowning the chamber in sound.
Seralyn
Her wards strained as the noise clawed at her mind. These weren't mere echoes of the dead — they were hungry. Some voices cackled, others shrieked, and beneath it all was one faint, sorrowful tone. A woman's voice, weeping. Not for them, but for him.
Her staff thrummed violently, every rune bending toward the curved sword Vorath carried. Not to him — to it. The blade wasn't just exuding power; it was pulling, as if reality itself leaned toward it like a drain.
She forced a barrier around herself and Kaelen, her voice sharp. "Kaelen! Don't let that sword touch you!"
He didn't answer — his focus locked on Vorath.
Vorath tilted his head slightly, amused. "So the witch feels it. Good. Fear it. Name it if you like, before it swallows your light."
He moved.
Not fast. Not even with effort. But the air itself tore as he swung Nox Obscura upward, its curved edge leaving a rippling wake of shadow that crawled across the ground like spilled ink. Kaelen met it with Lumenbrand, the clash ringing out like a cathedral bell struck by a storm.
The impact didn't just shake the room. It convulsed the Citadel. The skulls laughed, screamed, and wept all at once. A blast of force threw Seralyn back, her barrier fracturing like glass, her breath torn from her lungs.
She hit the floor hard. Her vision blurred. For just a heartbeat, she swore she saw the runes on Nox Obscura twist and align into something horrifyingly familiar: a woman's face, eyes closed, lips moving in a silent plea.
Then the whispers returned, louder than ever, echoing through the hall as the heartbeat quickened to a frantic drumbeat.
"…kneel… bleed… burn… feed…"
Seralyn clawed her staff back to her hand, forcing herself to stand as Kaelen roared and lunged again. But the thought wouldn't leave her, cold and heavy as the Citadel itself.
We are not here to slay a man.We are standing inside a living thing… and it wants us both devoured.