The fog outside the abandoned workshop clung to Kaden's coat like a second skin as he stared at the blood-soaked parchment in his palm.
The words—They're not dead… they're being taken… to the Abyss…—blurred at the edges, as if the ink itself feared being read.
Serena's hand, small and calloused from weeks of pumping the bellows, squeezed his arm again.
Her breath hitched, a silent question: What now?
Kaden's jaw tightened.
The Forgemaster's Mark on his palm throbbed, a dull heat that pulsed in time with his racing heart.
He'd seen enough in the past week—masked men demanding a "blood key," the shop's old furnace flickering with unbidden flames, Serena's fingers glowing faintly when she traced the edges of a broken sword—to know the disappearances weren't accidents.
But this… a ghost, a warning, a trail leading to the Abyss?
He glanced down at Serena.
She'd been sketching all morning, charcoal smudged on her knuckles, her notebook filled with fragments of a seal she'd found scrawled in the shop's dusty basement.
Now, she pulled the notebook from her satchel, flipping to a page where the symbols coiled like serpents.
The ghost's final words echoed in his head: Taken.
To the Abyss… And the seal—he'd seen it before, in his master's journals.
A ward against something, or a gate to something?
"The mine," he said, voice low.
The abandoned ironworks on the edge of town, where the last blacksmith had vanished three months prior.
"The symbols… they match the ones Master wrote about. Seals around the mine shafts."
Serena's eyes widened.
She nodded once, then pressed her notebook to her chest, as if the paper itself might crumble under the weight of what they were about to do.
Kaden turned to the shop's hearth, where the system's interface flickered in his mind—a glowing grid of options.
He'd learned to "command" it with focus alone, and now he mentally selected Alert Mode.
The forge's iron shutters creaked closed, the door locking with a metallic snap.
No customers today.
No distractions.
The mine's entrance loomed like a toothless maw as they approached, the air growing colder with every step.
Kaden's hand hovered over the hammer at his belt—more for comfort than use, though he'd learned never to underestimate the strange in this town.
Serena stayed close, her shoulder brushing his, her eyes scanning the rocks for… what?
More ghosts?
"System," he muttered under his breath, testing the connection.
"Any readings?"
A hum vibrated in his skull, the familiar tingle of the Forgemaster's Mark.
"High concentration of soul residue detected," the system intoned, mechanical but clear.
"Activating Soul Echo Scan. Range: 50 meters."
His vision blurred, then sharpened—now, the world was overlaid with faint, glowing threads.
Red for recent life, blue for old magic, and… black.
Thick, ropy tendrils snaking into the mine's depths.
"Follow the black," he said, nodding to Serena.
She didn't need translating; her gaze was already fixed on the darkest thread, leading them into the tunnel.
The mine's interior was a labyrinth of collapsed timbers and pools of stagnant water.
Kaden's boots crunched on loose gravel, the sound magnified in the silence.
The Soul Echo Scan glowed brighter as they descended, the black threads converging at a pile of rubble blocking the main path.
Serena knelt, brushing dust from a half-buried hand.
Pale, gnarled, the knuckles cracked from years of hammering.
Kaden's stomach dropped.
He knew those hands—Barlow Greybeard, the smith who'd vanished two weeks ago, his absence mourned with a quiet funeral.
But here, his body was half-crushed under a boulder, his fingers locked around a metal plate etched with runes.
"Barlow," Kaden breathed.
He crouched, prying the plate free.
The old smith's grip was vice-tight, as if he'd died clinging to it.
When the plate finally came loose, a low, keening wail echoed through the mine—too deep to be wind, too hollow to be human.
Serena flinched, her fingers flying to her mouth.
Then, she reached for the plate, her touch feather-light.
The runes flared crimson, and her eyes—normally a soft hazel—flooded with red veins, branching like roots.
She gasped, a sound Kaden had never heard from her, and dropped to her knees, scrawling symbols in the dirt with her finger.
Kaden's breath caught.
The symbols matched those in his master's journal: "Summoning inscriptions of the Forge God's remnants," the old man had written.
"Dangerous. Never attempt."
A rumble shook the mine, dust cascading from the ceiling.
"Time to go," Kaden said, yanking Serena to her feet.
The plate burned in his hand now, as if eager to be read.
They'd taken three steps when the air turned to ice.
A mass of shadow oozed from the walls, coalescing into a form with no definite shape—just teeth, too many teeth, and a stench like rotting iron.
Serena screamed, a raw, wordless sound, and Kaden raised his hammer, heart pounding.
The system's voice cut through his panic: "Passive ability activat