CHAPTER71- THE DOOR BENEATH THE FLAME.

The light faded slowly, leaving only the flicker of starlight overhead and the glow of the Spiral coiled within Selena’s chest. Lucien’s arms stayed tight around her, grounding her to this moment, but her mind had already slipped beyond the temple’s fractured floor. Her senses stretched, brushing against something buried far beneath the stone—something vast and slumberless. It wasn’t the Spiral. It wasn’t even a god.

It was deeper.

“I feel it,” Selena whispered, her fingers curling against Lucien’s tunic. Her voice was distant, like an echo pulled from a forgotten dream. “It’s not gone. The Spiral is calm, but something else… something older is moving.” She pulled away, standing unsteadily as her feet skimmed the cracked floor. The stillness of the temple had turned heavy, almost watchful, as if the walls were listening—and waiting.

Lucien’s eyes swept the shadows, hand on the hilt of his blade. “Where is it coming from?” he asked. His voice tried for calm, but Selena heard the tension in it. The fear. She turned her head slowly, the Spiral humming inside her like a compass pulling toward a storm. Then her gaze locked on the dais behind the altar—where the golden flame had once stood, now replaced by a scorched spiral carved deep into the stone.

“There,” she said. “It’s beneath us.”

A tremor rippled underfoot, subtle but unmistakable. Dust rained down from the cracked ceiling as if the temple itself were exhaling. Selena knelt before the scorched spiral, running her fingertips across the edges. The grooves weren’t just burned—they pulsed faintly, like veins connected to something alive. She flinched at the contact. The Spiral inside her twisted sharply, recoiling like a creature sensing its predator.

“This is a seal,” she murmured. “Not a symbol. A gate.” Lucien stepped closer, his voice low. “Then what is it sealing?”

Selena didn’t answer. Not because she didn’t know—but because the answer pressed against her lips like a scream she didn’t want to release. Her twin had been a mirror, a fragment of herself split by grief and power. But this… this wasn’t a piece of her. This was something watching her through the cracks in reality. Something that had waited for the Spiral to be whole again—because only then could it be opened.

She stood, the lines of the Spiral beneath her feet beginning to glow. Golden at first, then turning a deep, oil-slick black. A heartbeat echoed in the air, low and ancient. Not hers. Not the Spiral’s. Something older. Something forgotten.

“We need to leave,” Lucien said. “Now.”

But Selena didn’t move. She stared down at the spiral’s heart, where the glow was shifting—warping into shapes that didn’t belong in this world. “It won’t let us,” she whispered. “Not until I see it. Not until I remember.”

The ground buckled. Not violently—but with precision. The center of the spiral cracked open, revealing a narrow shaft of endless dark. No stairs. No light. Just a vertical descent into silence. The air that spilled from it was cold, not in temperature, but in essence. Like it had never touched the sun. Lucien swore softly, stepping between her and the opening.

“I’m not letting you go down there alone.” Selena’s gaze remained fixed on the chasm. “I don’t think I have a choice.” He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight. “Then neither do I.”

She looked at him then—really looked—and saw it in his eyes: not bravado, not recklessness. Just love. Steady and fierce and ready to walk into hell if it meant keeping her safe. Her heart ached with it. But something in her Spiral clenched, warning her. This descent is not meant for two.

“No,” she said gently. “If I take you, it’ll devour you. This… this was meant for me.”

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “Selena—” “I’ll come back.” Her voice broke, but she held his gaze. “I promise.” He shook his head. “You can’t promise that.” “Then I’ll try,” she said. “With everything I am.”

And before he could stop her—before she could lose the courage to face what waited below—she stepped into the dark.

There was no falling. No gravity. Just silence, absolute and crushing, wrapping around her like smoke. Her Spiral dimmed, withdrawing into her chest as if it too feared this place. The descent wasn’t downward—it was inward. Through memories she didn’t recognize. Through echoes that didn’t belong to her. Through screams that hadn’t yet happened.

And then she landed—on solid stone, beneath a skyless void.

Selena rose slowly. The chamber around her was massive, but hollow, like the inside of a dead god’s heart. Pillars curved unnaturally, carved with runes that shifted when she looked directly at them. The air smelled of ash and metal and something sweetly decayed. At the center stood a door—tall, seamless, made of black glass that reflected nothing.

She walked to it, drawn by something she couldn’t name. The closer she got, the heavier her body felt—like the very idea of herself was being unraveled. And then the whispers began.

Not in her ears—but in her bones.

You opened the Spiral. You made yourself whole. Now you are ready. “Ready for what?” she said aloud, voice trembling.

For the truth beneath the truth. The flame beneath the flame.

The door pulsed, veins of dark fire writhing across its surface. Her hand lifted involuntarily, drawn toward it like a magnet to a buried memory. Her fingertips brushed the glass, and—

—visions exploded.

Fire raining from a red sky. The Spiral shattering, not once, but again and again—across worlds. A woman not Selena, but wearing her face, laughing as realms crumbled beneath her feet. And at the center of it all, a throne of obsidian, burning with a flame that consumed reality itself. Upon it sat no god. No monster. Just her. Or what she might become.

Selena screamed, yanking her hand back. Her heart thundered, the Spiral inside her burning hot with resistance. “This is a lie,” she gasped. “I would never—” You already have. In another thread. In another cycle. This is the Spiral’s curse. And you are its key.

The door began to crack, spiderweb fractures racing across its surface like the shatter of glass under pressure. Power surged from it—raw and unformed, clawing at her skin, her soul. She turned to flee—but the chamber was gone. There was no up, no back, no Lucien. Only the door. And the truth pressing against it.

Her Spiral howled in protest. But another part of her—darker, colder—stepped forward inside her mind.

What if the merge was never about healing? What if it was about unlocking the gate you were never meant to open?

Selena fell to her knees, hands over her ears, trying to shut it out. “I won’t let it in,” she choked. “I won’t.”

But the cracks in the door widened, and from the other side, something stirred. Something with her voice. Her face. Her flame.

And it whispered: Are you sure… you haven’t already let me out?