My breath came out in short, ragged gasps, the air tasting like ash and the coppery sting of my own blood. The shadows were closing in, their claws scratching the air just shy of my skin, their eyes—way too many, way too *human*—staring right through me. The amulet in my hand was pounding like a second heart, so loud it drowned out the scream of my blade. I gripped it hard, the cracked edges cutting into my palm, blood slicking my fingers. The thing in front of me—whatever the hell it was, with its starry cloak and face like a black hole—leaned closer. "Choose," it said, voice like a nail driven into my brain. "The amulet, or your soul."
I laughed, a dry, bitter sound. "You think I've got a soul left to trade?" I sounded tougher than I felt. Truth was, my insides were twisting, the amulet's weight heavier than the coffin I'd clawed out of in the Undergraves. Those memories it kept shoving into my head—cities burning, skies bleeding, hands that weren't mine forging the damn thing in a fire that screamed—they weren't mine, but they felt like they were choking me. I didn't know what I owed, just that it was more than I could pay.
The thing laughed back, a sound like glass crunching underfoot. "You took it, Kael. In the Undergraves, when you crawled out of the dirt. You thought it was your way out. It was mine." Its hand—more bone and starlight than flesh—reached for the amulet. The shadows moved faster, their claws grazing my arms, my legs, drawing blood that the floor sucked up like it was starving. The pillars around us groaned, cracks splitting wider, leaking black gunk that hissed when it hit the ground.
I swung my blade, not thinking, just moving. Its song was a high-pitched wail, cutting through the shadows like they were paper. They fell apart, but only for a second before they stitched themselves back together, eyes glinting, hungry. The amulet flared, light burning my eyes, and for a split second, I saw it—a twitch in that void-face, a crack in the starlight cloak. It wasn't untouchable. Nothing is.
"I didn't *take* it," I said through gritted teeth, stepping closer, blade ready. "It was given." I don't know why I said it, but it felt right. Back in the Undergraves, when I woke up choking on dirt, the amulet was in my hand, pressed there by… something. A shadow, maybe, or a voice colder than death. Not a gift. A trap.
The thing tilted its head, like it was sizing me up. "Given?" it mocked. "Nothing's free, Kael. You were picked. To carry it. To pay for it." The shadows hit me then, hard, claws digging into my shoulders, pinning me down. Pain shot through me, but the amulet's fire kept me standing, its pulse the only thing keeping me from falling apart. "You're mine," it said, and the chamber shook, pillars cracking, chunks hitting the floor with wet thuds. The air smelled like blood and something older—death, maybe, or just regret.
My head spun, more of those not-my-memories flooding in: glass towers falling, a sky on fire, someone with my face stabbing a heart that wasn't human, the amulet drinking the blood. "Get out of my head!" I yelled, shaking it off. I lunged, aiming my blade at the thing's chest. The shadows slammed me back, but the amulet's light exploded, burning them away. My blade should've hit, but the thing just melted into starlight, popping up a step away. "You can't kill what waits," it said, sounding like it was enjoying this. "But you can pay."
The shadows were screaming my name now, over and over, like a chant. Blood was pouring from my hand, the amulet's heat like a brand in my chest. I looked at it, the cracked stone glowing with those same damn symbols from the door, from the memories. It wasn't just a debt. It was a key to something I didn't understand but couldn't let go.
"Screw it," I muttered, voice hoarse. "You want it? Take it." I yanked the amulet off, the chain snapping, my skin tearing where it'd practically fused to me. Pain hit like a hammer, but I held it out, blood dripping onto the stone. The thing froze, its void-face blank, but the shadows stopped, their eyes wide, waiting.
Then the whole damn chamber screamed.
The pillars shattered, black gunk flooding the floor, and the amulet went off like a bomb, light and symbols everywhere, burning my eyes. The thing in the cloak stumbled back, its starry rags falling apart where the light hit. "No," it hissed, and for the first time, it sounded scared. "You don't know what you're—"
I didn't let it finish. I threw the amulet right at it, and everything broke. The light swallowed the shadows, the pillars, the whole damn place. The thing's scream was like a star exploding, and then nothing—just darkness.
When I came to, I was back in the alley, face-down on the cobblestones. The fog was gone, the air clean, the city too quiet. My blade was next to me, silent for once. The amulet? Gone. But my hand still burned, scarred with those symbols I didn't understand. The door at the end of the alley was gone too, just blank stone, like it was never there.
I got up, legs shaky, and touched the scars on my hand. The weight was still there, in my bones, like the debt never left. The shadows were still out there, too, lurking in the corners, whispering my name. And somewhere—deeper than the Undergraves, deeper than anything—something was still waiting. I stumbled to my feet, legs wobbling like a newborn colt, the scars on my hand throbbing like they were alive. The alley felt too narrow, the walls closing in, and my blade felt too heavy, like it was mocking me for thinking I could wield it. I was no hero—just some fool who'd crawled out of a grave with a cursed trinket and no clue what I was doing. My chest ached where the amulet had been, a hollow burn, like it'd carved out a piece of me.
The silence broke with a low hum, rising from the cobblestones. My blade shivered in my grip, its faint song buzzing like a warning. I froze, heart hammering, as the air split ahead—a jagged crack of light tearing through the blank stone where the door had been. My name slithered out from it, whispered by something older than the city, colder than the grave. "Kael," it hissed, "you're not done."
I staggered back, blade slipping in my sweaty hand, fear clawing my gut. I wasn't ready for this—not for whatever was coming through that light, its shadow already stretching toward me, long and wrong.