The tunnel swallowed John's voice so completely it felt like it spoke from inside my skull, not ahead of me. The darkness pressed against my eyes, thick and heavy, and I couldn't see a single shape—not even my own hands.
"John?" My voice shook despite how hard I tried to steady it. "Is that you?"
A single footstep echoed in reply.
Slow. Careful.
Too careful.
I froze. "Say something else."
Another step.
Closer this time.
He wasn't running.
He wasn't rushing to help me.
He was walking toward me like he knew I had no other place to go.
My pulse thudded in my ears. "If that's the mimic, I swear—"
"It's not," John's voice cut in, soft, almost offended. "It's me."
But there was something wrong about it. The tone was right. The softness. The calm. But the rhythm felt… off. Like the voice was wearing the right shape but not the right weight.
A cold shiver slid down my spine. I stepped backward, hands outstretched until my fingers brushed stone. The tunnel walls vibrated faintly, still humming from the stone door sealing behind me.
"I fell," I said, my voice thin. "Addison's still up there. Something chased us. Something older."
John didn't respond right away.
Another footstep.
Another.
"I know," he finally whispered.
"You know?"
His shoes—or whatever he wore—stopped scraping against the ground. The air shifted. His breath sounded too close now.
"I've been following you for a while."
That didn't comfort me at all.
I swallowed hard. "Prove it's you."
Silence.
Then he said, "You still haven't returned the scarf I lent you in town."
My stomach tightened. "You never lent me a scarf."
"Yes," he said softly, "I did."
My heart dropped.
Mimic.
I spun and bolted into the darkness.
The tunnel wasn't straight—every few seconds, I slammed into rough stone or clipped my shoulder against a jutting wall. I couldn't see anything. Couldn't hear anything except my ragged breathing and my shoes scuffing across uneven earth.
But then—
Behind me—
Light footsteps.
Not rushed.
Not panicked.
Following.
I ran faster.
The darkness thinned slightly—just enough for me to see a faint gradient ahead. A soft gray glow filtered from somewhere deeper in the tunnel. I grasped onto it like a lifeline, legs burning, lungs tight as I sprinted toward it.
Behind me, John's voice called out—
"You can't outrun me down here."
Definitely the mimic.
I didn't look back. I just kept pushing forward, feet slipping on wet stone as I approached the source of the light.
The tunnel opened into another cavern.
Smaller than the last.
Lower ceiling.
Walls dripping with glowing blue moss.
The dim light revealed broken artifacts scattered across the floor—shards of pottery, cracked stone bowls, old woven cloth decaying against the walls. A forgotten settlement.
And carved onto one wall—
A massive symbol.
A circle split by three jagged lines.
The mark carved into my door.
I froze.
Behind me, light footsteps entered the cavern.
I whipped around.
John stood in the tunnel entrance.
Except… not quite.
His posture was wrong again. Too still. Too balanced. His head tilted slightly, like he was listening to a sound only he could hear. The blue light from the moss reflected off his eyes, making them look glassy and empty.
He smiled faintly.
"You always run."
My body tightened. "What do you want?"
He took one slow step inside. "You."
"No."
"Yes."
His voice softened, flattening around the edges like it was sliding between tones.
"I want the piece of you that's waking. The part the Ridge marked."
I backed toward the glowing wall.
"Why? What does the mark do?"
His smile widened. "Everything."
Something twitched across his face—a ripple under the skin. His left hand jerked once, then stilled. His fingers stretched and curled in a way no human hand could.
Mimic.
Not fully transformed yet… but close.
He stepped deeper into the chamber, eyes locked on me.
"You opened the first gate," he said softly.
I shook my head. "I didn't open anything. I fell."
"You fell," he agreed, "exactly where it wanted you to be."
Another ripple danced across his cheek. For a split second, his skin thinned enough for me to see something moving beneath it.
A second face.
A second mouth.
Trying to push through.
I gagged.
He didn't seem to notice.
"You woke the old one," he continued. "You touched the pulse. You heard the voice of the forgotten."
I backed straight into the wall. The glowing moss was cold, almost icy against my skin.
He inched closer.
"Everything is shifting because of you," he whispered. "The hunter. The watcher. The first. All of them can feel it."
"Feel what?"
"That you're here."
My breath hitched.
He took another step.
"And that you're bleeding."
I froze.
"I'm not—"
"You are," he murmured. "You scraped your palms when you fell. You left a trail through the cavern. And I've been savoring it."
Every hair on my arms lifted.
He wasn't talking about blood like a predator.
He was talking about it like memory.
Like he could taste what the mark changed inside me.
"Stay back," I whispered.
He tilted his head again, eyes empty and glassy.
"Three gates," he said softly. "The first is open."
"What gates?"
"The gates that keep the Ridge asleep."
He smiled wider.
"You woke one."
My heart hammered. "You're lying."
His voice dipped lower, echoing faintly along the stone.
"You'll wake the next.
Soon."
He stepped forward—
And something cracked sharply behind him.
He froze.
I squinted past him into the tunnel.
Another shape approached.
But this one moved different.
Not gliding.
Not drifting.
Steps heavy.
Balanced.
Controlled.
The shape entered the glow.
John.
The real John.
His eyes widened at the sight of me. "You're bleeding," he breathed. "And you shouldn't have come down here."
The mimic turned its empty face toward him and smiled.
Two Johns.
Two sets of footsteps.
One breathing.
One not.
Real John swallowed hard. "Don't move," he said to me.
The mimic's jaw unhinged just slightly.
John's hand tightened around something dark at his side.
A blade.
The mimic whispered with my voice—
"John."
He snapped.
"Get away from her."
He lunged.
The mimic lunged back.
And between them—
The stone floor cracked open again.
Right under my feet.
The ground vanished.
And I fell into darkness for the third time.