The floor trembled before I could even take another breath. The box wasn't light. Every step I took, it pressed cold through the fabric of my coat, humming under my arm like it had a pulse of its own. The chamber shuddered again, dust raining from the ceiling in sheets.
"The ruin's closing already?!" My voice bounced back at me, swallowed by the dark.
The runes on the walls blinked out one after another until only the ones near the stairs still flickered. The floor cracked down the middle, stone splitting open with a sound that made my ears ring. I didn't wait around to see how deep it went. I ran.
The stairwell spat me into the first hall. The air was heavy, charged, enough to make my teeth ache. The lamp stuttered in my hand, colors flashing blue to white, shadows crawling across the walls like they wanted out. The carvings twisted, faceless figures stretching toward the ceiling as the Veil began stitching the place shut.
A clang echoed somewhere below. Metal on stone. Then another, slower, heavier. Chains.
"Not now…"
I slowed near the last corner, keeping low. The sound came again, closer. When I leaned just enough to look, a figure stood in the half-light. Tall, wrapped in iron chains that dragged like anchors. Its hand hovered over the wall, tracing the old symbols carved there. Each one flared faintly under its touch, light bleeding through the cracks like the stone itself remembered something.
"…You can read that?" I breathed, voice barely a whisper.
The Ossar froze. Its head turned toward me.
I jerked back behind the wall, pulse hammering in my throat. The chains went still, the air thick as mud.
Then, slow as breath, the dragging started again, moving the other way this time.
That was enough for me.
I tore up the last of the steps, shoulder flaring with pain. The light ahead thinned, shaking dust raining from the ceiling. The whole ruin was collapsing in on itself, every sound smothered by that grinding roar. A cracked beam fell behind me and shattered into splinters against the ground, heat brushed the back of my neck as sparks caught my coat. I slapped them out and kept running.
The entrance shrank fast. I threw myself through it just as the floor caved, landing hard on wet earth. The air outside hit sharp and cold, sky washed gray. Behind me, the ruin gave one long groan before folding in on itself, stones sliding together until the last gap vanished.
I stayed on my knees a moment, catching breath that burned all the way down. Then I looked at the box. Still whole. The lotus faintly glowing under a skin of dust.
"Guess we both got lucky," I said, wiping mud from its side. "Don't make me regret it."
The hum steadied—quiet, pulsing like it understood. I pushed to my feet and started down the trail before the ground decided to finish what the ruin started.
The trail home looked worse in the dark. Mud up to my ankles, fog thick enough to turn trees into shapes that stared back. One hand on the box, the other near my belt. If anything crawled out now, I was too tired to run but stupid enough to fight anyway.
The ruin behind me was dead quiet. Usually there's a shimmer after a collapse, a bit of Vein-light bleeding through the cracks, but this time the world just swallowed it whole. Like it never existed.
Halfway down the slope, the box twitched. A low buzz through my coat, soft but steady. I stopped. The air went weird, static brushing over my arms, hairs lifting. A lamp post stood off the path, its Resonance light sputtering blue. The closer I got, the dimmer it burned, until it died with a soft pop.
"…So you're draining Resonance around you, huh. That's not good."
I backed off a step. The lamp sparked weakly back to life. Great. A box that eats power.
The hum kept on, slow, patient, like breathing through metal. Every few seconds it would pulse once, a heartbeat that wasn't mine. The lotus mark faintly lit each time, threads of light tracing along the petals before sinking back into the dark.
By the time the first roofs of the hub showed through the fog, I was soaked to the knees and the bandage on my side had gone warm again. The air smelled of smoke, iron, and cheap stew. Dawn hadn't even broken, and the place already reeked of work.
The gate watch glanced up, saw the mess I was carrying, and looked away. Just another scavenger dragging home junk that might kill him.
The streets were half-awake, that hour where drunks and early risers traded places. Smoke leaked from chimneys, wet and gray, and the smell of boiled meat fought the stench of hides left to dry.
I kept the box close under my coat. A few scavengers glanced my way, eyes catching the glint of metal, but no one wanted the trouble that came with asking questions.
"Cael?"
The voice came from my left. Lira was hauling a crate off a wagon, boots slipping in the mud. She straightened when she saw me, brushed her hands off, and frowned. "You look like hell."
"Thanks."
Her gaze dropped to the lump under my coat. "That from the west trail?"
"Yeah."
"And it's… what? A souvenir?" She tried to peek, leaning forward a bit.
I shifted back. "Don't know yet."
"Since when do you bring back things you don't know?"
"Since it wouldn't stop humming."
That made her pause. Her expression softened, worry threading through the usual curiosity. "Cael… you sure that's smart?"
"Probably not," I said. "But I'm not leaving it there now."
She sighed, shaking her head. "You really are going to get yourself killed one of these days."
"Probably," I said again, and started walking.
Behind me, her voice followed, quieter. "Just… be careful, alright?"
I lifted a hand without turning. "Always am."
The rest of the walk passed in silence. The fog thickened around the rooftops, muffling every sound but my own boots. My shack sat at the far edge of the hub, where the ground turned to marsh after rain. The door jammed halfway, same as always; I kicked it open and stepped into the chill. The room smelled of damp wood and last night's stew.
The box hit the table with a solid thud. Heavier than it looked. I brushed the grime off the top, and the lotus flared faintly—soft veins of light crawling through the grooves like it was waking up.
"Finally get a look at you," I said, leaning in.
Up close the craft was perfect. No seams, no rust, just those thin channels running between the petals like veins. They didn't look carved; they looked grown. The thing almost felt alive under my fingers, cold but tense, like it was waiting.
The lamp on the shelf flickered. Once. Twice. Then steadied.
"Alright," I said, straightening a little. "So it wasn't just the lamps outside."
A faint hum answered, low enough I felt it more than heard it. My pulse jumped with it. For the first time in months, the weight in my chest wasn't dread, it was that old itch, the one that whispered maybe this is it.
I rummaged through the crate under the table until I found the last vial of Resonance. Blue liquid, faint glow even through the grime on the glass. I'd been saving it to keep the lamps running another week.
I set it beside the box and stared at both for a while, thumb tapping the cork. One drop's worth a meal, I thought. Maybe two, if you're desperate.
And here I was, about to feed it to a metal box I didn't even understand.
The hum from the box answered with another slow pulse.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." I exhaled hard, pulled the cork, and tilted the vial.
The first drop hit the lotus center and spread fast, light chasing through the grooves like water in cracks. The glow sharpened until it stung my eyes.
"Alright... that's something."
If it was hungry, that drop had barely counted as a crumb.
The box drank the rest of the droplet before it could roll off. The hum deepened, lower, heavier, like a deep breath pulled through stone. Every lamp in the shack dimmed to nothing. My teeth buzzed.
"Okay, that's definitely new."
The air thickened, walls bending in my sight like heat haze. I took a step back, heart kicking up. The table rattled once, then the box flared white.
"Wait, wait, hold on—"
I'd wanted a reaction, sure. Just not this kind.
Light hit like a wave, every thought wiped clean for half a second. The floor went out from under me, sound tearing itself apart into a single ringing note.
Then nothing. No floor, no air, no walls. Just quiet, and a faint, slow heartbeat that wasn't mine.