24. The Mark of Fate

The cave feels like a tomb.

The air is thick, oppressive—as if every breath we take is being watched, recorded.

Something isn’t right here.

There’s a pressure in the atmosphere, something unexplainable, as if the walls themselves are alive, stalking us in silence.

Shadow stands close beside me, his body tense, every muscle poised for anything. His gaze never leaves the cave’s entrance, vigilant and sharp, but I know—deep down—we’re both waiting for the worst.

No matter how far we try to run, something larger always looms behind us, something far beyond our comprehension.

We’re surrounded by darkness, but it’s not a darkness that brings peace.

Every corner seems to whisper forgotten secrets, and the shadows toy with our minds, blurring the lines between what’s real and what isn’t.

Shadow senses it too.

Suddenly, he crouches, pressing his palm to the cave floor, as if searching for something hidden beneath the stone.

I watch him, my heartbeat quickening.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice low, almost afraid to break the silence.

He doesn’t answer right away.

He just keeps feeling along the ground, focused—until finally, his fingers brush against something.

A mark.

A symbol carved into the rock.

A circle, with interwoven lines inside it.

A symbol I’ve never seen before—and yet, somehow, I feel I’ve always known it.

It’s ancient.

And dark.

“This... this isn’t right,” Shadow murmurs, his voice trembling slightly, as if he, too, can feel the weight of what he’s discovering.

“This symbol... it’s a seal. A seal used only to contain... something.”

My stomach twists.

The air grows heavier, and a shiver climbs my spine.

Something is here.

Something we were never meant to awaken.

“What does it mean?” I ask, though a part of me already knows the answer won’t bring comfort.

Shadow rises slowly, his face pale, eyes locked on the symbol like he’s trying to decode the end of the world.

But it’s too late.

We’ve already disturbed what should’ve been left buried.

We’ve already stepped into forbidden ground.

“This seal...” he whispers, as though speaking to himself, “It’s used to hold back the impure. To imprison the darkness.”

My thoughts race.

I don’t know if I truly want to understand what that implies.

The darkness.

The impurity.

It all feels too vast, too overwhelming.

And yet—something inside me tells me this is the key.

The key to everything.

To what we’re facing.

To what we’ve unleashed.

The wyrm is not just a monster.

Not merely a beast that chases us.

It’s the embodiment of something far older. Far darker.

Something bound to us.

To our story.

“Eve...” Shadow turns to me, and in his face, I see a mixture of despair and sorrow.

“I think we’ve opened something we won’t be able to close.”

The fear in his voice stops my heart for a beat.

I don’t want it to be true.

I don’t want to believe we’ve come this far just to lose.

But deep down, I know he’s right.

Everything we’ve done has led us to this moment.

And now, the consequences are catching up.

A low, guttural sound rumbles through the cave walls, and another chill runs down my spine.

The wyrm.

It’s close—too close.

We haven’t had time to plan, to think, to breathe.

“We have to get out of here,” I say, my voice tight with panic and a raw, desperate urgency. “Now.”

Shadow nods without a word.

There’s no need for speech anymore.

We know what’s at stake.

We rise, our legs unsteady beneath the weight of adrenaline and fear.

Each step we take feels like a cry to whatever darkness listens.

But there’s no turning back.

Not now.

The wyrm’s roar echoes nearer, and the cave trembles beneath our feet.

The air thickens even more, like the world itself is trying to swallow us whole.

“Go! Now!” Shadow shouts, his voice ragged with desperation.

We run toward the exit, but the tunnel stretches ahead like some cruel illusion.

The wyrm is behind us, its roar shaking every stone, every crack in the earth.

We know—we know—there’s no outrunning it.

It’s faster. Stronger.

It’s toying with us, letting us believe we have a chance.

My breath shortens, my chest burns, but I keep running. I have to.

We both do.

Thunderous steps close in behind us, and we push ourselves harder.

Finally—finally—the first glimmers of daylight spill through the cave’s mouth.

But it’s too far.

The wyrm is almost upon us.

“Shadow!” I cry, my voice nearly breaking. “We won’t make it in time!”

He looks at me, and I see it again—that same unshakable fire in his eyes, the one that’s always given me strength when I needed it most.

“We’re not giving up,” he says firmly, grabbing my hand, pulling me forward. “Not now.”

And so, with the wyrm’s roar crashing through our skulls, the earth shaking under our feet, we keep running.

We don’t look back.

We don’t slow down.

Because forward is the only way.

In this world, all we truly have is each other.

And that has to be enough.