The message appeared at the clock tower at midnight.
Marcus had been unable to sleep, haunted by dreams of the space between. He'd climbed the stairs to the tower, hoping for peace, for clarity. Instead, he found the message.
It was carved into the wall where the doorway had once been, but this carving was different. Deeper. More precise. The letters glowed with a faint silver light, pulsing like a heartbeat. As Marcus watched, the symbols seemed to shift, rearranging themselves into words he could understand.
THE SOURCE IS GONE. BUT THE FOUNDATION REMAINS. THE LIGHT HAS FADED, BUT THE DARKNESS HAS NOT WON. THERE IS A PATH. A PATH THAT LEADS TO THE BEGINNING. THE TRUE BEGINNING. THE PLACE WHERE THE SOURCE WAS BORN.
Marcus touched the carving. It was warm, alive, pulsing with energy.
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