The mist clung to Suyeon's skin like a second curse, cold and suffocating as she stood before the stone archway. Its ancient surface was carved with foxes, their jade eyes glowing with the same eerie green as the shrine's lanterns, watching her with silent judgment. Her arm throbbed where the yeomma's burn had spread, dark veins now curling toward her heart, merging with the relentless pulse of her curse. Her nine tails, hidden beneath a cloaking spell that felt like gossamer stretched to breaking, trembled with the strain of her dwindling power. Jinwoo leaned against her, his bloodied shoulder pressing into hers, his breath shallow but his amber-flecked eyes fierce with determination. Hana stood a few paces back, her staff planted in the earth, its runes flickering as if struggling against the archway's divine energy. The bridge behind them swayed in the wind, its lanterns dim, the ravine below a black maw that whispered of the shadow foxes' ashes.
Suyeon's chest tightened, the curse's rhythm quickening as the archway's presence pressed against her. The god's voice lingered in her mind—"The pact is near"—a promise and a threat that rooted her to the spot. She'd crossed the bridge to escape, to find answers, but this archway was no sanctuary. It was a threshold, a gateway to the past she'd buried a thousand years ago when she'd knelt before a god and traded her soul for survival. The memory was fragmented—blood on her hands, a temple's cold stone, a voice like fire and ice—but its weight was undeniable. The pact was waking, and it wanted her, body and soul.
"We can't stay here," Hana said, her voice sharp, cutting through the mist's oppressive silence. Her gray eyes flicked to the archway, then to Suyeon, suspicion etched into her features. "This place is alive with divine power. It's tied to you, Kumiho. If you know what's waiting, speak now."
Suyeon's lips curled, a bitter smile masking the fear clawing at her. "If I knew, I wouldn't be standing here," she said, her voice hoarse from the battle's toll. Her arm burned, the divine mark pulsing in time with the curse, sapping her strength with every breath. "But running's not an option anymore. The pact's calling me, and this archway's the door."
Jinwoo straightened, his hand on his sword, though his wounds made the gesture more defiant than threatening. "Then we go through together," he said, his voice steady despite the blood seeping through his bandage. "You're not facing this alone, Suyeon."
Her eyes flashed gold, her temper flaring. "Stop saying that," she snapped, stepping away from him, her cloak swirling. "You don't get it, Jinwoo. This isn't your fight. The god wants *me*. You and the exorcist are just… collateral." Her voice wavered, betraying the lie. His presence, Hana's reluctant alliance—they were chains she couldn't break, binding her to a path she'd always walked alone. She wanted to shove them away, to vanish into the mist, but the archway's pull was stronger, its jade eyes boring into her soul.
Hana's staff glowed brighter, her runes casting jagged shadows. "Collateral or not, we're here," she said, her tone clipped but less hostile. "That god threatened all of us. If you go through that archway, we're coming with you. Unless you'd rather fight me now." Her eyes narrowed, a challenge, but there was something else—curiosity, perhaps, or grudging respect.
Suyeon laughed, a hollow sound that echoed off the stone. "You'd lose, exorcist," she said, but her bravado was thin. The burn on her arm was spreading, the curse draining her faster than she could recover. She turned to the archway, her hand hovering over its carvings. The foxes seemed to move, their tails curling in the flickering light, their eyes pulsing with divine energy. The curse flared, a searing pain that dropped her to one knee, a gasp escaping her lips.
Jinwoo was at her side in an instant, his hand on her shoulder, steady despite his own wounds. "Suyeon," he said, his voice urgent, "you're not okay. Let us help."
She shoved him away, her foxfire flickering unbidden, illuminating the mist in silver light. "I don't need help," she snarled, but her body betrayed her, trembling as she rose. The archway's power was overwhelming, its runes resonating with the curse, pulling memories from the depths of her mind. She saw herself, centuries younger, kneeling in a temple, her fur matted with blood, her voice pleading for power to outrun the hunters who'd slaughtered her kin. The god had answered, but at a cost she hadn't understood—a pact that bound her soul, her freedom, her humanity.
The mist thickened, the air growing colder, heavier. A low hum rose from the archway, its jade eyes flaring brighter. The god's voice returned, not in her mind but in the air, a whisper that made the trees shiver: "Cross the threshold, Kumiho. Face your debt." The runes glowed, weaving a pattern of flames and foxes, and the ground trembled, cracks spiderwebbing through the earth.
Hana's staff flared, her runes countering the archway's energy. "It's a summoning," she said, her voice tight. "Something's on the other side, waiting for you. If we cross, there's no going back."
Suyeon's jaw tightened, her eyes fixed on the archway. "There never was," she said, her voice low. She stepped forward, the curse burning hotter, her cloaking spell wavering. A single tail flickered into view, its silver light clashing with the green glow. Jinwoo followed, his sword drawn, his limp slowing him but his resolve unshaken. Hana hesitated, then joined them, her staff raised, her runes pulsing.
The archway loomed, its carvings shifting, the foxes' eyes following Suyeon's every step. As she crossed the threshold, the world twisted, the mist swallowing them in a rush of cold and shadow. Her vision blurred, the curse roaring, and she found herself in a vast chamber, its walls carved with endless foxes, their tails spiraling into infinity. A throne stood at the center, empty but radiating power, its surface etched with the same runes as the shrine. The air was thick with divine energy, heavy with the scent of blood and incense.
Suyeon's heart raced, her tails breaking free, all nine blazing silver. Jinwoo and Hana appeared beside her, their faces pale in the chamber's eerie light. "Where are we?" Jinwoo asked, his sword raised, his eyes scanning the walls.
Hana's runes flickered, her voice low. "A divine realm," she said, her staff trembling. "This is no mortal place. We're in the god's domain."
Before Suyeon could respond, the throne pulsed, and the god's fragment appeared—not the woman in white, but a fox, massive and black, its nine tails fanning like a storm. Its eyes burned green, its presence a weight that pressed them to their knees. "You've come, Kumiho," it said, its voice a chorus of thunder and whispers. "The pact is due. Your soul, or theirs."
Suyeon rose, her foxfire flaring, her tails weaving a barrier of light. "I'm done running," she said, her voice steady despite the pain. "Tell me what you want, god. No more games."
The fox laughed, a sound that shook the chamber, cracks forming in the walls. "You traded your soul for power," it said. "To survive, to defy the hunters who sought your kind. But you broke the pact, Suyeon. You hid, you lied, you lived as a mortal. Now, the price is due."
Hana stepped forward, her runes blazing. "What price?" she demanded, her voice shaking but defiant. "What does she owe you?"
The fox's eyes shifted to her, and Hana staggered, her staff cracking under the pressure. "Her soul," it said, "or the souls of those who stand with her. The pact demands balance. One life for the power she took."
Jinwoo's sword flashed, his voice raw. "You're not taking her," he said, stepping in front of Suyeon. "Or any of us."
Suyeon's heart twisted, his defiance a blade she didn't deserve. "Jinwoo, stop," she said, her voice breaking. "This is my burden." But the fox's eyes gleamed, its tails lashing, and the chamber shook, the runes on the walls flaring. Shadows rose, not foxes this time, but warriors—spectral figures in ancient armor, their eyes glowing green, their blades drawn.
Suyeon's foxfire erupted, her tails slashing through the nearest shadow, but more came, their numbers endless. Jinwoo fought beside her, his sword carving through specters, his wounds slowing him but his will unbroken. Hana's talismans burned, binding the shadows, but the god's power overwhelmed her, her runes flickering out one by one.
"You cannot win," the fox said, its voice a taunt. "Choose, Kumiho. Your soul, or theirs."
Suyeon's vision blurred, the curse and the burn merging into a single agony. She saw Jinwoo stagger, a shadow's blade grazing his side. Hana fell to one knee, her staff splintering. They were fighting for her, dying for her, and the weight of it was unbearable. She raised her hands, her nine tails blazing, and unleashed a wave of foxfire that consumed the shadows, the chamber trembling under the force. The fox laughed, unharmed, its eyes boring into her.
"You cannot escape," it said. "The pact is eternal."
Suyeon collapsed, her tails fading, her body drained. Jinwoo caught her, his blood mixing with hers. "Suyeon," he whispered, his voice urgent. "Don't give up."
Hana struggled to her feet, her face pale but her eyes fierce. "There's a way out," she said, pointing to a crack in the chamber's wall, where light spilled through—a portal, faint but real. "The god's power is tied to this place. If we leave, we might weaken it."
Suyeon nodded, her strength fading. She leaned on Jinwoo, her foxfire barely a flicker. The fox lunged, its tails slashing, but Suyeon's last burst of power held it back, giving them time to stumble toward the portal. They crossed, the world twisting again, and emerged in the forest, the archway behind them crumbling into dust.
Suyeon fell to her knees, the curse pulsing, the burn spreading. Jinwoo and Hana stood beside her, battered but alive. The god's voice echoed, faint but unrelenting: "You cannot run forever, Kumiho." The forest was silent, but the pact's shadow loomed, and with Jinwoo's oath and Hana's uneasy alliance, Suyeon knew the road ahead would demand everything she had—and more.