The moment Ryn's fingers touched the tablet, a pulse of energy surged through him. It was neither pain nor pleasure—something beyond physical sensation. The world flickered, and for a brief moment, he saw the symbols unravel, revealing countless layers beneath.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the feeling vanished, leaving him breathless.
The masked figure observed him closely. "What did you see?"
Ryn took a moment to steady himself. "It was… a pattern, but it kept shifting. As if the inscriptions were alive."
The masked figure nodded, seemingly unsurprised. "That is the nature of the Unseen Archive's knowledge. It does not give answers. It offers possibilities."
Ryn frowned. "Then how do I understand it?"
"You don't." The masked figure's voice was calm, but firm. "You must let it understand you."
Before Ryn could ask more, the tablet's surface rippled. The engravings twisted, reforming into a single line of text. The characters were ancient, unlike any script he had studied before. But somehow, he could read them.
_The path is chosen. Step forward, or be left behind._
A sudden chill ran down his spine. Was this a test? Or a warning?
The masked figure gestured to the stone monolith. "Place the tablet upon the pillar."
Ryn hesitated. Every instinct screamed caution. But he had already crossed too many lines to retreat now. Clenching his jaw, he pressed the tablet against the monolith.
The chamber trembled.
A low hum filled the air as the engravings across the monolith awakened. Symbols spread like cracks, crawling across the surface in a spiraling web of power. The air grew dense with an unfamiliar force—something neither purely physical nor ethereal.
Then, the whispers returned.
Not a voice, but many. Layers upon layers of forgotten tongues, speaking in harmony and contradiction. Ryn gritted his teeth as the weight of their knowledge pressed against his mind, threatening to drown him.
Through the chaos, a single phrase cut through clearly.
_You are not alone._
Ryn's breath hitched. His vision blurred as the chamber melted away. Once again, he found himself in that boundless void where inscriptions floated like stars. But this time, the shadowed figure was closer.
It stood before him, shrouded in shifting glyphs. Its presence was neither hostile nor friendly—merely observing. Then, without warning, it raised a hand.
A single glyph formed in the air between them, glowing with an eerie radiance. It pulsed once, then shot toward Ryn's chest.
He had no time to react.
The glyph struck, and his mind exploded with visions.
—An ancient city of towering obelisks, their surfaces carved with inscriptions that bled power into the air.
—A figure standing atop a colossal archive, pages swirling around them like a storm.
—A shattered engraving, leaking something beyond comprehension.
Then, a whisper, clearer than before.
_You are the vessel. Do not fail._
The vision shattered.
Ryn collapsed to his knees, gasping. His entire body burned with energy, his veins alight with inscriptions he didn't recognize. He could still feel the glyph within him, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
The masked figure stood motionless. "What did it give you?"
Ryn clenched his fists, staring down at the faint glow beneath his skin. "Something I don't understand yet."
The masked figure exhaled slowly. "Then you must learn. Quickly."
The air in the chamber was different now. Heavy. Expectant.
Ryn swallowed, steadying himself. Whatever had just happened, he knew one thing for certain—
He had taken a step forward. And there was no turning back.
The weight of the unseen knowledge clung to Ryn like a second skin. His breath was shallow, his pulse unsteady. The glyph burned within him, not with pain, but with an unfamiliar force that threatened to consume him from the inside.
The masked figure remained still, watching him. "You carry something now, don't you?"
Ryn clenched his fists. The glow beneath his skin had dimmed, but he could still feel its presence, intertwined with his very being. "What was that?"
The masked figure tilted their head. "A fragment of something far older than this place. And now, it has chosen you."
Ryn's mind raced. Chosen? That implied purpose, direction. But he had never sought this. He was merely chasing survival, grasping at whatever knowledge he could find to carve his path.
But it seemed the inscriptions had a will of their own.
A tremor ran through the chamber, breaking the moment. The engravings on the walls flickered, and the monolith's glow pulsed erratically. A deep groan reverberated through the air—like the temple itself was awakening.
The masked figure turned sharply. "We must leave."
Ryn barely had time to react before the ground beneath them cracked. The inscriptions on the monolith warped, their structured lines twisting into chaotic, writhing patterns. The air thickened, pulsing with an unfamiliar force.
A presence stirred.
It was not like the whispers he had heard before. This was something different. Stronger. Hungrier.
Ryn's instincts screamed at him to run.
The masked figure stepped forward, voice laced with urgency. "Follow me. Do not falter."
Without hesitation, Ryn pushed himself up and moved. The chamber trembled, dust and debris raining down as the walls shuddered under the strain of an unseen force. The path they had entered from was no longer visible—only shifting inscriptions and moving stone.
The masked figure pressed a hand against the wall. More engravings lit up, responding to their touch. A new pathway emerged, its surface rippling like liquid metal.
"Step through," the masked figure ordered.
Ryn hesitated for a fraction of a second. The energy within the passage was unstable, shifting unpredictably. But there was no time to doubt. Gritting his teeth, he plunged forward.
For a brief moment, his body was weightless—suspended between worlds. Then, with a forceful pull, he was ejected onto solid ground.
His feet stumbled on stone, his breath ragged. He looked up and found himself in a new corridor, its walls lined with inscriptions he didn't recognize. The masked figure appeared beside him a moment later, their posture rigid.
Before Ryn could speak, a sound echoed from the chamber they had escaped.
A voice.
Not a whisper this time.
A deep, resonating voice that carried through the stone.
_"Vessel… you cannot flee."_
The words sent a chill down Ryn's spine. His mind reeled, the glyph within him pulsing in response. The masked figure's grip tightened around their staff.
"We keep moving," they said, their voice steady but sharp. "Now."
Ryn nodded, pushing down the unease that gnawed at his thoughts. He didn't know what had awakened back there, but one thing was clear—
It was watching him now.
And it would not stop.
*********
There's an extra chapter coming soon.
It's frustrating because there aren't many readers.
But, for those who read this novel,
Enjoy.