The door yawned. Shadows bled onto my boots. Runes throbbed on my palm, burning cold.
Something waited inside. My breath rattled in the gap where my voice should be.
— Step, the silhouette hissed behind me, low. — Don't hesitate now. They're close.
I edged forward. The corridor was tight. Wet stone, the stink of old wounds. My hand trembled. Blood, sweat, old fear.
A shape blocked the way. Broad. Wrong. Its face was mine—twisted, teeth too long, lips smeared dark.
It grinned.
— You brought it, didn't you? Its voice matched mine, stretched thin. — The Trace.
Pain crawled up my arm. The runes on my palm pulsed, hungry.
— We don't have time for this, the silhouette said. — Move him.
My tongue throbbed, useless. I glared at the shadow-me, tried to step past.
It flickered, lunged. Cold hands caught my throat.
— Trade, it spat. — The Trace wants more than blood now. It wants root. Memory. Fear. You'll split, or you'll die.
I clawed at its grip. My hand found the glass shard, sticky with my blood.
The silhouette shouted, — Don't! If you split the Trace, you lose yourself! That's the law.
The shadow squeezed tighter.
— You'll never pass unless you share, the shadow crooned. — Give me a slice. Just a secret. Just a terror.
My lungs burned. The runes on my hand writhed, itching up my wrist. My mind flashed: blood, promises, names I barely recalled.
I pressed the shard to my skin. Pain bit deep. Memory spun—the night I first touched the Trace, the promise I broke.
The shadow leaned in, mouth by my ear.
— Let me in, it whispered. — Give me what you fear most, and I'll let you go.
Behind, boots hammered stone. The porteurs were coming.
The silhouette barked, — Decide! Now!
I slashed my palm, offered the pain. I forced the memory up, that old hidden dread: being forgotten, erased. Alone in the dark.
The shadow gasped. Its grip loosened. The Trace surged, burning away some part of me—I felt it peel off, like skin from bone.
I staggered forward. The shadow recoiled, shuddering, cradling my secret.
The silhouette yanked me onward.
— You're losing too much, it warned, eyes wild. — The Trace is taking what you are.
I stumbled, dizzy. The corridor spat us into a round chamber, flickering with runes. The pain in my hand roared. My mouth filled with copper.
Behind, the shadow with my face screamed. The door shuddered, cracking.
— They're coming, the silhouette hissed. — There's another door. But the Trace wants more. What will you pay next?
I stared at the new threshold. My hand bled, my mind hollowed.
The Trace purred in my skull.
— More, it whispered, closer now than ever. — Give, and I will open every door.
The next price hovered on my tongue, unspoken.
The chamber trembled. Shadows pressed in.
I stepped toward the door, heart pounding, blood dripping, memory flickering.
The Trace waited.
— Choose.