The moment we stepped into the mist, everything narrowed.
Chains went first, hand over her mouth, eyes sharp, body tense. I followed close behind. The fog swallowed the air, the sound, the light. The chamber was wide, shallow-ceilinged, and pulsing with something under the stone. Inhale, exhale, not loud, just enough to feel. It was like the tower had lungs, and we were inside them.
The walls moved. Not fast. Not constantly. But I noticed. A slow flexing, seams that stretched and tightened, like the place was breathing in its sleep.
Chains said something, too quiet to catch. I didn't ask her to repeat it.
My shoulder still throbbed, not sharp anymore, just a deep ache that sat beneath my skin. The fever was gone, my thoughts were clear, but the mist was worse. It felt wrong in a way I couldn't name.
The air was heavy, thick and sharp. Every breath burned my throat and left my chest cold. I kept my hand on the wall. It was warm, veined, like stone wrapped around something living.
We didn't talk.
Not until Chains whispered, "Do you hear that?"
I nodded. There was a sound, something moving, dragging. It came and went. It circled. Sometimes it was close, sometimes far, but never in the same place twice. The mist played tricks with distance.
I held the knife she gave me tighter.
We kept walking. The ground changed beneath us, soft in some places, hard in others. Roots maybe, or bones. I couldn't tell. The mist never cleared fully, just thinned enough to let you think you could see, then covered it again.
Then I heard the voices. Not words. Just sounds shaped like words. Breaths that curled around syllables. Laughter with no feeling behind it.
Chains stopped walking. "That was you, right?"
"No."
We stood still for a long time.
I moved first, slow and quiet. Something tugged at me, not a sound, not a thought, more like a feeling pulling behind my ribs.
I blinked. Then saw it.
A thread, thin as hair, glowing faintly. It hovered in the air and curved through the fog before vanishing.
Gone.
I blinked again. Maybe it hadn't been real. But I started walking toward where it had been.
Chains touched my arm. "Do not wander."
"I am not," I said, though I wasn't sure if it was true.
The thread left a direction behind. Not a memory, not a map, just an instinct. My body moved before I decided to follow it.
Chains stayed close. She watched every corner of the mist, every twitch of the walls. The sound came again, a breath from above. The walls pulled in an inch, then let go.
The path twisted. We climbed without meaning to. I stumbled, braced myself, and felt something under my fingers.
Another thread.
Cool, faint, pulling me again.
I yanked my hand back. The thread disappeared. Chains looked over.
"You alright?"
"Yeah."
I wasn't. The threads kept showing up, not always where I could see them, but I felt them. Behind my eye, deep in my chest, like they lived in my nerves. I didn't want to trust them. But my legs kept following anyway.
The voices got louder.
Then I heard one say my name.
Chains stood by a stone column. "That wasn't me," she said. Her voice was steady, but her fingers were tight around her knife.
I turned my head.
A blur darted past. No sound, just a shadow cutting through the fog.
Chains spun toward it. There was nothing there. Just fog.
I stepped forward again, and this time I let myself focus. I closed my eyes.
For a moment, nothing.
Then the thread came again.
It hummed, like a string pulled tight. It stretched from my chest into the dark ahead, curving around corners, pulling.
I opened my eyes.
I knew where to go.
I moved faster. Chains followed, breathing harder. "What is it?"
"I don't know. But I think I've been here before."
"We haven't."
"I know. It just feels like I have."
Another voice echoed behind us. It said my name, but it sounded like Chains.
I turned. Chains looked me in the eye.
"That wasn't me," she said.
The wall beside us pulsed.
I backed away.
Another thread lit up, pulling in a new direction. I followed. It ended at a wall.
I reached for it.
A hand burst out and grabbed my wrist.
I screamed and fell backward.
Chains charged. The thing lunged—small, fast, gray skin, long claws. No knife. Just teeth and rage.
Chains tackled it. They hit the floor hard. She slammed her fist into its jaw, then drove her blade into its chest.
It vanished, like smoke.
She was kneeling on stone. Nothing else.
The wall groaned. The fog thickened.
My heart raced. The floor pulsed under us.
Chains was breathing hard.
"We need to go," she said. "Now."
I nodded.
The thread showed again, and this time it split. Three paths. Three tunnels. One of them pulled at me.
Not physically. Something deeper.
It reminded me of Chains. I didn't know how.
I ran.
Chains cursed but followed.
The fog screamed.
That is the only way to describe it. The sound came from everywhere, like the air was tearing. The walls pressed in. The ground bent. My vision blurred.
The thread turned left.
I turned without thinking.
"Left or right?" Chains shouted.
"Left!"
We reached a wall.
No door.
But the thread led through it.
I stepped forward.
It felt like thick water. My body slowed, but I didn't stop.
Chains grabbed my hand.
Together, we fell through.
We landed on stone, coughing.
No more mist.
Just cold air and silence.
Chains rolled over, pale, shaking. I could hear her teeth grinding. Her hand was still bleeding from the fight.
I dropped beside her, heart pounding.
We didn't speak for a while.
Eventually, she asked, "How did you know?"
I stared at the ceiling. "I didn't."
She looked at me. "Then how?"
"I felt something. I could see where to go. Not with my eyes, but I knew."
Chains breathed slowly. "You led us through all that."
"I think so."
She nodded once. "That's new."
"Yeah."
We lay there, breathing.
The stairwell waited, already open.
We would move soon.
But not yet.
For now, the air was still.
No voices.
No breath.
Just quiet.