Lucien disappeared, swallowed by shadows like a stone dropping into black water. Mira's scream split the air, sharp and raw, the kind of sound that cut through everything else and left the world holding its breath. She clutched me tighter, and her heartbeat slammed against my chest like a frantic drum. I felt the heat of her fear, the tremor in her arms, even as she tried to keep her grip steady.
Charlotte froze, her hand hovering near her blade. Her eyes darted toward Lucien's last position, but there was nothing—just writhing, coiling darkness that pulsed unnaturally. For the first time since I'd met her, Charlotte looked unsure, her usual sharp confidence cracking.
"Move," Mira hissed through gritted teeth. Her voice was low and rough, not a command but a plea wrapped in steel. "We have to go."
Charlotte hesitated for a split second before nodding. She moved quickly but quietly, boots barely making a sound against the stone floor. Mira followed, arms tightening around me like she thought the shadows would rip me away if she loosened her hold.
I was small, helpless, cradled in her arms, but I felt the weight of the moment pressing down on me like I carried it too. The system flickered in my vision, silent and unhelpful, its faint glow mocking me.
Behind us, the air shifted—a deep, guttural sound, like a beast stirring. I craned my neck as much as I could, trying to see past Mira's golden hair. The darkness rippled, alive with malevolent energy that seemed to watch us even though it had no eyes.
"Go." It wasn't a plea or even an order—it was absolute. He was still alive, somewhere in that chaos, holding the creature's attention long enough for us to escape.
Mira's steps quickened, breathing heavy but controlled as she carried me toward the doorway. Charlotte reached it first, hand pressing against the wood as she glanced back over her shoulder. The hesitation was brief, almost invisible, but I saw it. She didn't want to leave him behind.
"Charlotte," Mira snapped, voice barely louder than a whisper but filled with enough force to snap the other woman into motion.
The hallway outside felt colder, air heavy with something unspoken. Shadows clung to the walls, stretching and shifting like they were trying to follow us. Mira's grip didn't loosen as she moved, each step deliberate and careful.
I focused on her, on the way her jaw clenched, her eyes flickering with barely contained panic. My Emotional Resonance picked up more than her fear—it was a storm of emotions crashing against me all at once. Anger, guilt, desperation. They weren't just hers anymore; they were mine too, wrapping around my thoughts like a suffocating blanket.
The nursery was still and silent when we entered, air colder than I remembered. Mira placed me in the crib with a gentleness that felt at odds with her trembling hands. She didn't move away immediately, fingers lingering on the edge of the blanket like letting go would break something inside her.
Charlotte stood near the window, back straight but shoulders tense. Her eyes scanned the room, darting toward the corner where the mark still shimmered faintly against the wall. She stepped closer, movements precise but hesitant, and crouched to examine it.
"It's still here," she muttered, voice low. "Fainter, but it hasn't dissipated."
Mira turned, eyes narrowing. "What does that mean?"
Charlotte didn't answer immediately. She reached out, gloved fingers hovering just above the mark without touching it. Her brow furrowed, lips pressing into a thin line as she studied the faint glow.
"It's tied to something," she said finally, tone carefully measured. "Not just the figure. The estate itself. It's... reacting."
"To what?" Mira's voice was sharp, and I felt the spike of fear that shot through her like a blade.
Charlotte's gaze flicked toward me, and I saw it—the briefest flash of something in her eyes. Understanding. Worry. Maybe even suspicion.
I wanted to speak, to tell them I felt it too—that pull, that connection to something I couldn't grasp. But all I could do was watch, my tiny body betraying me as my mind raced.
Mira stepped closer, arms crossing over her chest as she stared at the mark. "You're saying it's him?"
Charlotte hesitated, eyes meeting Mira's. "I'm saying it's possible."
The air between them grew heavier, silence stretching like a taut wire ready to snap. Mira's expression hardened, jaw tightening as she stepped between me and the mark, like her presence alone could sever whatever connection might exist.
"He's just a baby," she said, voice low and fierce.
"I know," Charlotte replied, tone softening. "But that doesn't change what's happening."
Mira didn't respond. She turned back to me, hands brushing against my face as she adjusted the blanket around me. Her touch was warm, grounding, but her movements were too precise, too deliberate, like she was trying to keep herself from falling apart.
The system flickered to life again, its glow sharp and intrusive.
[New Quest: Preserve the Fractured Balance.]
The weight of the system's words lingered, pressing on me like a quiet accusation. Mira's warmth was my only anchor in the cold, hollow space the nursery had become. Her hands hovered near my face, smoothing the blanket over me like the repetitive motion could mend the cracks in her resolve. She wasn't just holding me now—she was holding herself together.
Charlotte moved like she was part of the shadows, deliberate and silent. Her fingers ghosted over the faint shimmer of the mark again, posture stiff and calculating. She didn't speak, but the way her eyes narrowed told me she was pulling threads of logic, trying to weave understanding from chaos.
"It's not going to leave, is it?" Mira's voice broke the silence. It wasn't a question, not really. It was the kind of statement people make when they've already guessed the answer and hate it.
Charlotte stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly behind her. "No." Her gaze flicked to me again, like she was trying to piece me into a puzzle she didn't have enough pieces for. "Whatever it is, it's bound here. And to him."
Mira didn't flinch, but I felt her tension spike. Her fingers twitched against the blanket before curling into fists, small and tight. "Then we break it," she said, the edge in her voice sharp enough to cut glass.
Charlotte shook her head, slow and deliberate, like she was explaining something to someone who didn't want to understand. "It's not that simple. If it were, Lucien would've done it already."
The mention of his name sent a ripple through the room. Mira's lips tightened, and she turned slightly toward the door, jaw clenched like she was holding back something bitter.
Mira let out a sharp breath, hands moving back to me, brushing against my cheek like she needed the reassurance of my existence. "This estate... this house..." she whispered, words trembling on the edge of anger. "It's trying to keep us here. Like a cage."
I wanted to speak, to tell her she was right—that I could feel it too, the way the walls seemed closer, the way the air felt heavier, like the house was alive and watching. But my body betrayed me, leaving me silent and small.
The system's words hung in my mind. *Preserve the Fractured Balance.* How was I supposed to preserve something I didn't understand? I couldn't even lift my head without Mira's help, let alone navigate the ancient curse of this place.
Mira turned her attention back to Charlotte. "And what about the mark? What does it mean?"
Charlotte hesitated, and for the first time, I saw doubt creep into her expression. "I don't know," she admitted, voice quieter than before. "But it's old. Older than the wards, older than the Alarics. Whatever this is, it's been here long before us."
Mira's arms tensed around me, and I felt her heart hammering in her chest.
The system flickered again, its interface cutting into my vision like a blade.
[Subquest Unlocked: Analyze the Mark.]
Objective: Identify the source of the residual energy.
The words burned into my mind, and I clenched my tiny fists, frustration boiling beneath my skin. I didn't want to analyze anything. I wanted to scream, to demand answers from the system, from the house, from whatever force had tethered itself to me. But all I could do was watch as the world moved around me, bigger and more dangerous than I could handle.
"Mira," Charlotte's voice called softly.
Mira straightened, expression hardening as she turned to face Charlotte. "What's that?"
Charlotte's jaw tightened, and for a moment, she looked like she might falter. But then she took a deep breath, gaze steady and unflinching. "It's about him," she said, nodding toward me.
The room fell silent, air thick with unspoken tension. Mira's lips pressed into a thin line, hands curling into fists at her sides. "What about him?"
Charlotte hesitated again, posture rigid. "The connection. The energy from the mark. It's not just residual—it's... alive. And it's drawn to him."
Mira's breath hitched, body stiffening like she was bracing for a blow. "That doesn't mean—"
"It means something," Charlotte cut her off, voice sharper now. "And if we don't figure out what, we'll never be able to stop it."
I wanted to scream at both of them, to tell them I wasn't some passive thing for them to discuss like I wasn't even here. But I couldn't. All I could do was listen, trapped in my own body, as their words carved lines through the air around me.
"Then tell me what you're suggesting," she said, words clipped but laced with unease.
Charlotte took a step forward, hands unclasping from behind her back like she was releasing invisible tension. "I'm not suggesting anything yet. But the mark, the figure—it's not random. There's a connection. And he's at the center of it."
Her eyes darted to me again, and I felt her uncertainty mixing with something sharper—determination. I knew what she wanted to say, even if she didn't have the words for it yet. I wasn't just a part of this; I was the axis.
Mira's hand rested on my head, fingers curling protectively. "He's a baby, Charlotte. You can't treat him like a piece in whatever puzzle you think this is."
Charlotte didn't flinch, but her expression tightened, lips pressing into a thin line. "And if that's exactly what he is? What then? Pretend it's not happening until it's too late?"
The tension between them was suffocating, their emotions crashing against each other like waves. Mira's protectiveness, Charlotte's pragmatism. My Emotional Resonance pulled it all into me, a storm of fear and resolve that left me feeling raw and exposed.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut it out, but it didn't help. The house seemed to hum beneath us, a low, throbbing vibration that made my skin crawl.
"Mira," Charlotte said, voice quieter now but no less firm. "I'm not saying we use him. But we can't ignore what's happening. The figure appeared in the nursery. The mark's energy is tied to him. It's not going to stop just because we want it to."
Mira looked down at me, face softening as her golden hair fell around us like a curtain. "We don't even know exactly what it wants," she murmured, almost to herself.