The figure blocking our path didn't move at first.
It stood between us and the gate like a mistake reality refused to correct, tall, perfectly still, framed by the warped glow of the exit. The moment I focused on it, the cave reacted. Space tightened. The hum of dualflow deepened, vibrating through bone and breath alike, as if the world itself recognized this presence and didn't like it.
Then it stepped forward.
And I knew.
It was him.
The thing that had dragged us into this ruined world. The architect of the trials. The unseen hand that thought throwing us into hell counted as entertainment or instruction or some cosmic joke only it understood.
Only now, it wasn't hiding.
