The chamber trembled.
Ethan's scream echoed like a weapon, the sound reverberating through the bone walls. The massive creature above him shifted, its countless eyes narrowing in unison. Its body—long, pale, and slick—coiled across the ceiling like a serpent stitched from nightmares. Droplets of translucent fluid rained down, spattering on the floor around him.
The book on the pedestal snapped shut with a deafening crack. Chains whipped outward like serpents, clanging as they tried to bind the tome again, but the thing above hissed—a sound that shattered the chains into dust.
The Choir spoke through the monster's many mouths. Kneel… kneel… kneel…
Ethan staggered backward, fists clenched. "I'm not kneeling. Not to you. Not ever."
The torches flared, their sickly flames stretching like tendrils toward him. His shadow danced violently across the walls, multiplying—splitting—until he saw not one shadow but a dozen, each standing at different angles, each mirroring him imperfectly.
One of them bent down on its knees. Another screamed silently. Another reached toward the book with desperate hands.
"No…" Ethan whispered. "You're not me."
But the Hollow City disagreed.
The shadows surged forward. They detached from the wall, solidifying, taking form. A dozen versions of Ethan staggered toward him, their faces twisted in agony, their eyes black voids.
He fought the urge to run. He had nowhere to go anyway.
One of the shadows lunged, its hand icy as it grabbed his wrist. Ethan wrenched free, swinging his flashlight like a weapon. The beam sliced across the shadow's face, and it shrieked, disintegrating into smoke.
The others hesitated, their heads tilting in eerie unison. Then they charged.
Ethan screamed, swinging wildly. The flashlight shattered against one of them, its bulb bursting. Darkness swallowed the chamber.
But the Heart in his chest still pulsed. He felt it—each beat illuminating the room in flashes, like lightning. In those flashes, he saw the shadows swarming him, clawing, dragging him down.
He hit the floor hard. Hands—his own hands, but not—pinned his arms and legs. Their grip was like iron.
Above, the creature slithered lower, its dozens of eyes locking on him. Its mouth opened, revealing not teeth but rows of smaller mouths within, each whispering his name.
Ethan. Ethan. Ethan.
He thrashed, panic clawing at his throat. "Get off me!"
And then—Selene's voice.
Not mocking. Not an illusion this time. Clear. Strong.
Ethan, fight.
His chest tightened. The shadows faltered for a split second, their grip loosening. Ethan seized the moment. He dragged in a breath, feeling the rhythm of the Heart pounding harder, louder.
He roared, a sound torn from somewhere deeper than his lungs. The shadows exploded into smoke, their forms scattering into the air.
The creature above hissed, recoiling. For the first time, Ethan felt it—fear.
The book's chains rattled again, snapping toward him. This time, instead of breaking, they wrapped around his arms, his chest. He tried to resist, but the chains were alive, pulsing like veins.
They didn't bind him to trap him. They bound him to connect him.
The book pulsed with his heartbeat.
Visions slammed into him again. Not past lives—future ones.
He saw himself standing in the cathedral, the Choir kneeling before him. He saw Selene by his side, her eyes glowing with the same pale fire. He saw the Hollow City stretching endlessly beneath the earth, all of it beating in rhythm with his heart.
He saw himself not as prey, but as master.
"No…" Ethan whispered. His voice cracked. "That's not me. That's not who I am."
But the book disagreed.
The pages flared with light, words etching themselves in blood across the parchment: BECOME.
The chains dragged Ethan toward the pedestal. He clawed at the floor, but the stone dissolved beneath his nails, turning into shifting sand. He was pulled closer, closer—until his chest slammed against the book.
It seared him. His skin burned where it touched, the rhythm of the Heart syncing perfectly with the cursed tome.
The creature above shrieked, the Choir's voice deafening.
Chosen! Chosen! Take your place!
Ethan's vision blurred. He felt himself slipping, his will unraveling. But in the haze, he saw Selene's face.
Not an illusion. Not a trick. Her real face, etched in memory—the way she looked when she warned him to stay silent, the fire in her eyes when she stood against the Choir.
"Selene…" His voice cracked. "I'm not letting this thing win. Not without you."
The fire returned to him.
With a violent wrench, Ethan ripped the book from the pedestal. The chains screamed, snapping like torn flesh. The room convulsed, the torches bursting into showers of sparks.
The creature above recoiled, shrieking. Its body thrashed against the ceiling, stone cracking under its weight.
Ethan held the book against his chest, the rhythm deafening. His heart and the book's were one now.
But instead of crushing him, the power surged outward.
The shadows disintegrated. The chamber's walls split, revealing more tunnels spiraling into the depths.
And the Choir screamed—not in triumph, but in rage.
Ethan staggered to his feet, clutching the book. His chest felt like it would burst, but he forced himself to stand tall.
The creature lunged.
He didn't run. He raised the book.
Light—blinding, searing light—exploded outward. The monster's eyes burst, one by one, spraying black ichor. Its body writhed, curling inward, shrieking as the light consumed it.
The chamber collapsed.
Stone rained down. Dust choked the air. Ethan stumbled through the chaos, clutching the book as the floor gave way beneath him.
He fell.
Darkness swallowed him.
For a moment, there was nothing.
Then—water.
Ethan crashed into it, the cold shocking him back to awareness. He fought to the surface, gasping. His flashlight was gone, his lungs burning, but the book floated beside him, glowing faintly.
He kicked toward the shore, dragging himself onto slick stone. His body trembled with exhaustion.
The tunnel ahead glowed faintly with pale light.
And in that light, a figure stood.
Selene.
Her hair plastered to her face, her eyes wide. She was alive.
"Ethan…" she whispered, stepping toward him.
Relief and terror tangled in his chest. He reached out to her, his hand shaking.
But before he could touch her, the book throbbed violently. Its pages flipped open, and words burned into the air between them:
ONLY ONE MAY BE CHOSEN.
Ethan froze.
Selene's eyes shifted—glowing faintly with the same pale fire he had seen in his visions.
The Hollow City had chosen her, too.
Two Chosen? Or only one survivor? What do you think will happen between Ethan and Selene now?