The third mountain, unlike the others, burned not with life but with memories.
Crimson mist curled at its peak, and the earth was cracked, glowing faintly from within like the heart of a dying fire. The scent of ash clung to the wind. There were no trees. No signs of life. Only scorched stone and silence.
Yan walked slower than usual, his nervous eyes scanning every shadow.
"Why does it feel like... it's watching us?" he whispered.
Lin didn't answer, his eyes locked ahead focused, tense.
As they climbed toward a blackened temple built into the mountain's heart, Yan tugged Lin's sleeve.
"This... this place doesn't feel cursed. It feels ancient. Like something's still alive in it."
Still, they pushed forward.
The temple was in ruins, half-buried beneath molten rock, but inside the walls were lined with carvings. Spirals. Eyes. Claws. A giant dragon etched into stone, curling around the mountain. In the centre stood a cracked pedestal and resting on it, a jagged, carved obsidian stone, humming the heat.
Lin stepped forward.
"Don't touch it" Yan warned quickly. "I have a bad feeling."
But Lin's hand was already reaching.
The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the stone pulsing with light red, burning, alive.
The entire temple shook.
Then, everything vanished.
Yan blinked, "Lin?"
But Lin was gone.
Behind him, the mural on the wall began to move it's shadows shifting. From it's depth, a face emerged. Twisted. Ghostly. Burning.
A voice echoed all around him—hoarse, ancient.
"You do not belong here. Leave."
Yan stepped back. "I am not going anywhere without him!"
The shadows lunged. He drew the dagger Lin had given him, shaking but ready.
The spirit laughed— a low, pitiful sound.
"You would fight a memory? You are nothing but a flicker."
But Yan didn't run. He stood his ground.
Meanwhile—
Inside the Mirror
Lin stood frozen in a world of red glass. A mirror dimension. All around him, distorted version of himself flickered in the reflections—some scarred, some furious, some hollow- eyed.
Then, a voice spoke from above:
"Mountain spirit... do you remember what you once were?"
A giant mirrored form descended—it's face was his but ancient. Wiser. Wounded.
Memories struck him in waves:
The sky splitting as his spirit roared above the mountains. A shrine built in his name. People praying. People fearing. Then war. Blood. Betrayal.
And finally, silence.
"You were sealed. Forgotten. Broken. And yet... here you are."
Lin's expression didn't change.
"I'm not him."
"You are."
The mirrored spirit raised a hand. The walls around Lin rippled. Pain clawed into his chest.
"Accept it—or be devoured by it."
Back in the real world, Yan charged at the flame- spirit. Each blow of his dagger passed through, smoke but he didn't stopped.
"Give him back!"
The spirit swirled around him, slashing at his arm, his shoulder. But Yan kept fighting, bloody but relentless.
Then—Lin fell from the mirror, crashing down beside Yan as the carved stone shattered.
Smoke hissed and died.
The temple felt quite once more.
Yan crawled toward him, panting.
"Next time you decide to touch creepy glowing rocks, maybe let me go first."
Lin didn't respond. His eyes were half-lidded. But his voice calm and low, finally came:
"... That wasn't just a mountain."
Yan leaned back, gripping his bruised side.
"Yeah.I figured that."