CORVUS

Chapter II

The world tilted, then vanished.

One second, I was anchored to the earth, my boots gripping the wet stone. The next, an invisible hand clamped around my wrist with the strength of a hydraulic press. It didn't just pull; it yanked. My shoulder joint screamed, the socket nearly tearing as I was catapulted forward.

I slammed into the rock, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs in a ragged wheeze. My fingers clawed at the slick surface, nails ripping, skin shredding, but the grip on my arm was absolute. It felt as if the air itself had solidified into a coil of steel, dragging me toward the thundering curtain of the falls.

"CEREN!"

Rowan’s voice ripped through the roar of the water, raw and terrified. I looked back for a fraction of a second. They were running—all three of them—their faces distorted by a horror I’d never seen in them before.

Vex was the closest. For the first time in the history of our friendship, the smirk was gone. He looked genuinely petrified, his eyes wide, his hand outstretched as if he could reach across the distance and pluck me from the void.

"I can’t get away!" I shrieked, though the sound was swallowed by the waterfall.

My fingers left b****y streaks on the stone. I kicked, I fought, I cursed every god I’d ever ignored, but the force only intensified. It was a vacuum, a gravitational hunger that didn't care about my resistance.

The waterfall loomed, a wall of crushing white noise and freezing spray.

"CEREN, HOLD ON!" Vex yelled, his voice barely a ghost against the thunder.

"I'm TRYING!"

The ground disappeared. There was no more rock, no more grip. There was only the plunge. An ice-cold impact slammed into my body, a physical blow that felt like hitting a brick wall of frozen mercury. The roar became absolute. It didn't just fill my ears; it vibrated in my marrow, erasing every other sound in existence. I couldn't hear the wind, I couldn't hear my own screams, and I certainly couldn't hear my friends.

My lungs seized. Water forced its way into my nose and mouth, blinding me with a stinging, silver haze. For one agonizing heartbeat, I was certain I was about to smash headfirst into the cliff face and end my life as a very sarcastic pancake. Then, the resistance vanished.

I passed through the curtain of water, and the roar stopped so abruptly that the resulting silence hit me like a second collision. The grip on my wrist snapped open, releasing me into a freefall.

I hit solid ground face-first. Hard.

"Ow, f**k!"

The word was a wet gasp. Pain flared through my cheeks and knees, and my palms stung where they had scraped across raw stone. I stayed there for a long moment, kneeling in a puddle of my own misery, coughing up river water and gasping for air.

As the ringing in my ears faded, I noticed something. I was breathing. Not just breathing, but easily. The air didn't taste of damp forest or river silt; it was warm, carrying a faint, metallic tang, like the smell of a thunderstorm just before the first bolt strikes.

I slowly lifted my head.

The gasp that escaped me had nothing to do with the water in my lungs.

I was in a cavern, but "cavern" felt like a pathetic word for the scale of the place. Colossal stone pillars rose toward a ceiling that disappeared into a velvet abyss, their surfaces etched with swirling patterns. There was no sun, no lamps, yet the entire chamber glowed. Silver light flowed through the air like a slow-moving river, illuminating the skeletal remains of a civilization.

Broken statues of figures I didn't recognize lay toppled across the floor. Collapsed archways looked like the ribs of a dead giant. Fragments of carved walls leaned at precarious angles, their surfaces shimmering with that same eerie, lunar radiance.

The ruins from outside hadn't been ruins at all. They were the fingertips of something massive. An entire city—or a temple, or a tomb—had been hollowed out inside the mountain.

No. Looking at the way the light pulsed, the way the architecture defied gravity, it wasn't just a building. It was a different world.

"What..."

My voice bounced off the distant walls, echoing a dozen times before vanishing into the dark. A shiver raced down my spine, cold and insistent. I pushed myself to my feet, my soaked cargo pants clinging to my legs like a second, freezing skin. Water dripped from my ponytail, splashing onto the polished floor.

I turned around.

The silver door stood behind me, towering at least thirty feet high. It gleamed like a mirror made of moonlight, its surface perfectly smooth except for the spiraling symbols that danced across the metal. They were the same markings Rowan had spotted on the cliffside, but here, they felt different.

I stepped closer, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

The markings weren't static. As I watched, a line of silver shifted, sliding an inch to the left. When I tried to focus on it, the symbol snapped back into place, as if it were shy.

A sharp headache began to throb behind my eyes.

"Nope." I stepped back instantly, my heels clicking on the stone.

Absolutely not. This was exactly how every horror movie started. The protagonist finds the mysterious, glowing door in a f*******n place, touches the pretty symbols, and suddenly their soul is being eaten by an ancient squid-god.

Am I cursed? I wondered. Is this some kind of cosmic prank?

The logical part of my brain—the part that usually kept me from jumping off cliffs—told me to find the exit and run until I hit a different time zone. But then, a distant shout echoed through the chamber.

"CEREN!" Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.

"ROWAN!" I screamed back, my voice cracking.

I spun toward the waterfall. From this side, the curtain of water didn't look like water at all. It looked like a shimmering, translucent veil of silver silk. Through the haze, three blurry figures appeared.

Vex slammed into the barrier first.

There was a loud, metallic clink, and instead of passing through, he bounced backward, landing flat on his backside with a startled yelp.

"What?"

We stared at each other through the shimmering film. Even Fiaren looked stunned, her blonde hair plastered to her forehead.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Vex groaned. He scrambled up and threw his shoulder into the barrier again.

Clink.

He bounced back further this time, looking like a very confused pinball.

"DAMN IT!"

"VEX!" I shouted, stepping toward him.

"Stay back! I'm working on it!"

He began frantically banging his fists against the silver surface. For a second, a jagged c***k appeared across the veil, a sliver of hope that made me lean forward. Then, with a soft hum, the c***k sealed itself, smoother than before.

"Okay," Rowan said, his voice vibrating through the barrier. He sounded significantly less calm than usual. "That's concerning."

"Concerning?" I yelled.

"Would 'alarming' be better?"

"YES!"

The barrier shimmered, a wall of impenetrable light separating me from the only three people in the world who knew I existed. For the first time since I’d been dragged through the falls, genuine fear settled in my gut. It wasn't just the isolation; it was the wrongness of it all. The physics were broken. The architecture was impossible.

Am I dreaming? I closed my eyes and pinched my arm. Hard.

The pain was sharp and very real.

Great. I'm awake in a nightmare.

Fiaren stepped forward. Unlike the boys, she wasn't trying to break the barrier. She was staring at me. No—she was staring past me. The color drained from her face, leaving her skin as pale as the silver light.

"Fia, why are you looking at me like that?"

I turned, but there was nothing behind me but the towering silver door.

"Ceren," Fiaren whispered. The tone of her voice made my stomach drop through the floor.

"What?"

"Don't move."

"Why? What is it?"

My heart stopped. Every horror story I'd ever read suddenly felt like a documentary. Slowly, agonizingly, I looked over my shoulder.

A section of the shadow between the pillars had decided to detach itself from the darkness. It unfolded, stretching upward until its head nearly brushed the ceiling.

It was tall. Too tall. Its proportions were skewed, leaning into a grace that felt predatory. Silver eyes opened within the void of its face. One pair. Then another. Then a third.

Dozens of silver eyes were watching me, blinking in a slow, synchronized rhythm.

My pulse thundered in my ears. The creature tilted its head, studying me with a curiosity that felt like a physical weight. Suddenly, the silver door behind me blazed with light, every symbol on its surface igniting into a blinding white fire.

A low rumble shook the chamber, sending a rain of dust drifting from the ceiling. Then, for the second time that evening, a voice whispered directly into the center of my mind.

“The Gate has opened.”

The words didn't come through my ears; they echoed in my skull, vibrating against my brain. Beyond the barrier, Rowan, Vex, and Fiaren froze. They had heard it too.

The voice spoke again, louder this time, filling the cavern with a resonant, ancient power.

“The Heirs have returned.”

As the words faded, the hidden city awoke.

It happened in a wave. Silver lights flared to life across distant, floating towers. They ignited along the spans of shattered bridges and flickered through broken windows buried deep in the stone. The darkness was chased away, revealing the true scale of the ruin—a sprawling, celestial metropolis carved into the heart of the mountain.

The worst part? The creatures—the shadow-things—didn't look hungry. They looked bewildered.

"Ceren," Vex's voice came through the barrier, sounding small. "You seeing this too?"

"Unfortunately," I responded, my voice trembling.

"Good."

"How is that good?"

"Because if we're hallucinating together, that's telepathy. We're connected through telepathy!"

I stared at him, my expression clearly asking what the f**k are you talking about?

Even through the silver veil, I could see the terror in his eyes, but the i***t still managed to sound like a chaotic prankster. It should have been annoying. Instead, it made me feel slightly less like I was about to faint.

The creature shifted, and the stone groaned beneath its weight. It took a step forward, the silver light spilling across its form.

Now that it was closer, I could see it clearly. Or as clearly as my panicking brain would allow. It looked vaguely human—the way a wolf vaguely resembles a dog. Same general shape, but fundamentally wrong. Its body seemed woven from solidified shadow and silver mist, with pieces of ornate, obsidian armor clinging to its frame. Long ribbons of darkness drifted behind it, waving as if the creature were submerged underwater.

It looked like a thousand years of nightmares condensed into a single entity.

"Nope."

The word slipped out automatically.

"Nope, nope, nope."

The creature blinked. One of its eyes closed. Then another. It looked genuinely confused by my reaction.

"Absolutely not." I began backing away, my eyes locked on the entity.

"So we're clear," I said, pointing a shaking finger at it. "Whatever magical nonsense is happening right now? I'm not interested. I'd like to unsubscribe from this experience, please."

"Ceren," Rowan warned.

"Don't."

"Ceren."

"I'm handling this!"

"You are talking to it!" Rowan yelled.

"I know!"

"Why are you talking to it?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

The creature tilted its head even further, its neck stretching at an angle that should have snapped bone. I had the sudden, horrifying impression that it was trying very hard to understand my dialect of "panic-sarcasm."

The silver door pulsed again, sending a wave of energy sweeping through the chamber. The creature immediately stepped back, its dozens of eyes narrowing. A low rumble vibrated through the floor, and then another voice filled the air.

This one was female. It was melodic, yet it carried the weight of a mountain.

Okay, what now? I thought, my skin prickling.

"At last." The words came from everywhere. The pillars, the floor, the walls—the city itself seemed to be speaking. The silver symbols across the door began to move, rearranging themselves into complex, shifting patterns.

My stomach dropped. Because as I looked at them, I realized I could read them.

I had never seen these symbols in my life. I didn't know the language. Yet, the meaning flowed into my mind as clearly as if it were English.

My head throbbed. I didn't know where to look or what to think. Whose dream is this? Am I lucid dreaming? Am I even alive, or did I die the moment I hit the water and this is just a very elaborate waiting room for the afterlife?

"Welcome, Heir of the Gate," the female voice announced.

I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over a piece of rubble.

"No."

The symbols on the door shifted. “The Gate recognizes you.”

"No."

“Thrion awakens for you.”

"The f**k is Thrion? Also, no."

A final line of text appeared on the door, glowing with an intense, golden hue. “You have been expected.”

"No."

The silence stretched for a few seconds before the voice returned, sounding strangely amused.

"You are saying 'no' frequently, Heir of the Gate."

Behind the barrier, Rowan burst out laughing. It was that specific, manic laugh he only used when his brain had completely stopped processing reality.

"Oh my God," Fiaren whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.

Even Vex looked offended. "That other side of the world is making fun of her. I love this place."

"I AM NOT THE PROBLEM HERE!" I screamed.

The symbols shifted again. I pointed an accusing finger at the door. "See? It's mocking me!"

"It definitely insulted you," Vex agreed, his grin returning.

"Thank you!"

"I respect it more now," Vex added.

I hated him. I truly, deeply hated him.

The creatures in the shadows seemed to agree with Vex, because the symbols vanished and new ones appeared with a flourish.

“The loud one may enter later.”

Vex looked absolutely delighted. He pressed his face against the barrier. "CEREN! CEREN, DID YOU SEE THAT?"

"I'm not blind, fucker."

"It likes me!"

"It doesn't even know you!"

"That creature recognizes greatness," Vex proclaimed, puffing out his chest.

"That creature has terrible judgment."

The creature between the pillars made a sound. It was a dry, rasping noise—something between a cough and a chuckle.

The realization hit me a second later.

What the f**k? That monster just laughed at me?

My soul briefly left my body. I felt a surge of indignation that momentarily overrode my terror. I opened my mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but the ground beneath us began to tremble.

The amusement vanished from the creature’s eyes instantly. Every one of its silver eyes turned upward, wide with something that looked like genuine dread.

A deep, guttural boom echoed from somewhere far beneath the city. The entire cavern shuddered, a violent tremor that knocked me off my feet. My stomach sank. If the nightmare-monster was scared, we were all screwed.

A massive c***k split through the floor several hundred feet away, and a geyser of blinding silver light erupted from the depths, shooting toward the ceiling.

The female voice returned, but the melody was gone. Now, it sounded strained. Frightened.

"The seals are failing."

The words echoed across the plaza. The shadow creature immediately dropped to one knee, all its eyes closing in what looked like a gesture of prayer or submission.

Beyond the barrier, my friends exchanged alarmed looks. I swallowed hard, the metallic taste of the air turning bitter.

"What seals?" I asked.

No one answered. Instead, a distant roar erupted from the depths, a sound so primal and powerful that it froze the blood in my veins. It wasn't a roar of an animal; it was the sound of something ancient and hungry waking up from a long sleep.

The female voice spoke one last time, her tone urgent. "That is earlier than expected."

I didn't like that sentence. I hated that sentence.

Suddenly, a flash of light exploded in front of me. I shrieked and fell backward as a figure materialized. She was a woman composed entirely of blinding white light, her voice thundering like a mountain collapsing.

"Urgent now!" she commanded.

The force of her voice nearly knocked me flat. She pointed a shimmering finger at me.

"Find the others. Restore the Four Keys. Close the Gate!"

The cavern trembled violently. Dust rained down in thick sheets, and a distant tower groaned, leaning precariously before crashing into the ruins below.

I looked up at the light-woman, my eyes wide. I pointed to my own chest.

"You mean me?"

The answer appeared instantly, flashing in my mind like a bolt of lightning.

The four of you.