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*MOONLIT SHADOW*
*Chapter Seventeen: Rise of the Pact*
The Serpent's Spine was no longer quiet.
The deeper they climbed, the more the jungle twisted — trees with silvered leaves, vines pulsing with unnatural heat, and stone faces carved into the cliffs that seemed to watch them pass. The air was heavy with pressure, like they were walking into the lungs of a beast.
Mark felt it first.
The ache in his chest — the familiar burn of the pact — had evolved into something more primal, more alive. It throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Each step closer to the summit made the world feel louder, the pull stronger.
Jun noticed. Of course he did.
"You're sweating," Jun said quietly, brushing fingers against Mark's wrist. "Even in this cold."
Mark didn't look at him. "It's the ridge. Or maybe it's me."
Dao walked ahead, scouting the terrain. "We're close to the shrine. I smell burning incense. Fresh."
Jun's breath caught. "She's already begun the summoning."
They crested a steep rock face and found the entrance.
It was carved into the mountainside — a naga's head with its mouth wide open. At its center, an obsidian gate pulsed with glowing runes. Spirit wards — powerful ones — woven in languages Jun barely recognized.
"She's sealed it behind protection," Jun muttered. "But not to keep us out — to keep something *in*."
---
Mark moved closer, examining the markings. His hand hovered above one of the runes — and it flared in response. Not in warning… but in recognition.
"It reacts to you," Dao said.
"Because the pact is linked to this place," Jun whispered. "She's drawing the power *from* him."
Mark stumbled back, clutching his chest. "Something's… wrong. I feel like it's pulling me out of myself."
Jun caught him. "Don't fight it. Not yet. Let me anchor you."
He pressed his hand over Mark's heart — skin on skin — and whispered an incantation. The runes dimmed slightly, just enough for Mark to breathe again.
"I can't hold this long," Jun said, strained. "We have to go in."
Dao muttered a curse. "Then let's finish what she started."
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Inside the naga's mouth, the shrine was alive with ritual fire.
Candles lined the walls, casting long shadows. Symbols drawn in ash and blood coated the floors. And at the center, Niran stood — robed in black, face painted with spirit ink — chanting in a tongue none of them understood.
She didn't flinch when they entered.
"I warned you," she said softly. "But you followed anyway."
"You betrayed us," Jun said. "You tried to kill Lek."
"I saved him," she countered. "From *him.*" She nodded to Mark. "He's the key, Jun. The vessel. This was never about Khan. He was just the blade. Mark is the lock."
Mark's pulse roared in his ears.
"You used me," he growled. "What did you do to me?"
"You were chosen long before I met you," Niran said. "By the spirit you carry. It sleeps… for now. But when the veil breaks fully, it will wake. And when it does, you'll see your true form."
Jun stepped between them. "He's not a weapon."
"Then why is he built like one?" Niran whispered, eyes wild. "Why does the pact sing in your blood every time he loses control?"
Jun hesitated — the answer was already in his heart.
Because it was true.
---
Suddenly, the walls shook.
The shrine pulsed as spirit energy cracked through the stone. From behind Niran, a great statue of the naga began to *breathe* — ancient magic filling its lungs.
Mark doubled over, screaming.
The pact was no longer dormant. It was *clawing* its way out.
"Jun—!" he gasped. "I can't—stop—it—"
Jun grabbed him, holding tight as black spirit marks spiraled over Mark's chest, arms, neck. His eyes flickered gold.
Dao moved to draw her blade — but Jun shouted, "No! He's still in there!"
Jun pressed his forehead to Mark's. "Stay with me. Please."
Mark trembled, on the edge of something monstrous — something ancient. But Jun's touch slowed the fall.
For now.
Then, in a blink — Niran was gone.
Not fled.
*Vanished* — swallowed into a swirl of shadow that whispered like laughter.
Jun turned to the shrine's center — and saw something glimmering.
A *mirror.*
A portal.
Still open.
"She's gone to the other side," Dao whispered. "To the spirit world."
Jun nodded, face pale. "She's starting the final rite. We have to follow."
Mark, barely upright, took Jun's hand. "Then let's end this."
---
Far above, on the cliffside, the cloaked figure watched again.
Their voice curled into the night, soft and poisonous.
*"Break them. Twist the love. Let the vessel shatter."*
And the jungle, as always, obeyed.
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To be continued