Leo collapsed to his knees, palms braced against the cold, unforgiving stone. His lungs burned with each ragged breath, and the chamber seemed to tilt and sway around him, walls folding in subtle, impossible ways, as though the ruin itself were alive and watching. Shadows lengthened, stretched, and twisted unnaturally, reflecting the fragment's feverish rhythm deep within his chest. The whispers surged, no longer contained, rolling over him like a tide of voices he could not silence.
You are not one. You are we. You are vessel. You are door.
