Mist thickened around her as Lalin stepped forward. The air was colder here—sharp, almost alive. Each breath she drew felt like swallowing fragments of forgotten dreams.
Then she saw it.
A massive archway carved from black stone, rising from the mist like the bones of a long-dead god. Symbols flickered across its surface, glowing faintly as if recognizing her presence.
Beyond the gate, nothing could be seen—only a void that pulsed with faint whispers.
"You've crossed the bridge," a voice echoed, deep and smooth, neither man nor woman. "Few ever do."
Lalin spun around. A figure stood within the shadows, draped in a cloak of living darkness. Its eyes, if they could be called that, gleamed like dying embers.
"I came to find someone," she said, her voice steady though her pulse raced.
The figure tilted its head.
"Everyone who enters this gate seeks something—or someone. But every desire demands a price. Tell me, child of fire… what are you willing to lose?"
The mist coiled tighter around her.
The air trembled. The stone beneath her feet began to hum with an ancient rhythm—her heartbeat answering it in defiance.
"I've lost enough," she whispered. "But if my loss means his return… then so be it."
A pause. Then the Gatekeeper raised one hand. From the void, a faint light flared—shaped like a heart, pulsing weakly.
"Then prove it," the voice said. "Walk through, and face what your heart has buried."
The gate opened. Shadows rushed outward, swallowing the light around her.
Lalin took a single breath, and stepped into the dark.