Elevators aren't supposed to descend this long.
There's a point where physics politely reminds you of reality.
This elevator passed that point three floors ago.
The digital panel stopped showing numbers.
Now it just flickers.
Blank.
The hum of cables above us sounds strained, like they're dragging something heavier than steel and two reckless idiots.
"You feel that?" the figure asks quietly.
"Yes."
Pressure.
Not on my skin.
Inside my skull.
Like something is knocking from the other side of thought.
The elevator jolts.
Stops.
The doors don't open.
Of course they don't.
I press the button again.
Nothing.
The lights dim to a sickly yellow.
The air smells older down here.
Not dust.
Older.
"You brought a weapon?" I ask.
They nod.
"Good."
The pressure spikes.
Then—
The doors slide open.
Not into a basement.
Into stone.
Ancient, carved stone.
Meridian Tower was built on top of something.
And someone knew exactly what they were building over.
We step out.
The elevator closes behind us.
No return button.
Classic.
The chamber is massive.
Circular.
Walls lined with symbols etched deep into black rock.
Not decorative.
Functional.
The air hums.
And at the center—
A pit.
Not deep.
Not wide.
But wrong.
The darkness inside it isn't absence like before.
It's depth.
Like looking into water at midnight.
The figure inhales sharply.
"This wasn't in the records."
"You have records?"
"Yes."
"Adorable."
I walk toward the pit.
Every symbol on the wall pulses faintly as I move closer.
Recognition.
The word makes my stomach twist.
I kneel at the edge.
The darkness shifts.
Not randomly.
It's responding.
To me.
"Don't," the figure warns.
"Relax."
I reach out.
Not physically.
Magically.
Just a thread.
Just enough to test it.
The moment my power brushes the pit—
The entire chamber ignites.
Symbols blaze white.
The ground trembles.
And something answers.
Not with a roar.
With a whisper.
"You returned."
My blood goes cold.
I didn't ask a question.
But something expected me.
The figure stumbles back.
"What did you do?"
"I barely touched it."
The whisper grows louder.
Not in the air.
In my head.
"You opened the surface gate. The seal weakens."
Surface gate.
The alley creature.
The tower breach.
No.
That wasn't random.
I stand slowly.
"Who are you?" I ask.
The pit ripples.
And then—
A hand emerges.
Made of the same absence from before.
But denser.
Solid.
It grips the edge of the pit.
And pulls.
A shape rises.
Tall.
Humanoid.
Featureless except for two faint lights where eyes should be.
The figure raises their weapon.
"Stay back."
The entity doesn't look at them.
It looks at me.
"You fractured the boundary," it says calmly.
"I didn't fracture anything."
"You carry the fracture."
Silence.
My chest tightens.
I hate cryptic nonsense.
"Explain."
It tilts its head slightly.
"You were born during the last thinning."
That hits.
Harder than it should.
"How would you know that?"
"Because you were marked."
The symbols on the walls shift.
Rearranging.
Like they're translating.
The figure looks at me.
"You told me you didn't know about any of this."
"I didn't."
I didn't.
The entity steps fully out of the pit.
It doesn't move like a monster.
It moves like something restrained for too long.
Controlled.
Ancient.
"You are the key," it continues. "The Veil recognizes you. It responds."
"Responds how?"
"It seeks collapse."
My jaw tightens.
"So this is about destruction."
"Not destruction."
It takes another step closer.
"Revelation."
The word echoes.
And something inside me resonates with it.
The figure shakes their head.
"Don't listen. It's manipulating you."
I glare at the entity.
"You've caused deaths tonight."
"Collateral."
That word.
That cold corporate indifference.
I hate that word.
"People aren't collateral."
It pauses.
"People are temporary."
I move before I think.
Magic ignites in my hands.
Brighter than before.
Stronger.
I slam it into the entity's chest.
This time—
It doesn't absorb it.
It recoils.
Interesting.
The chamber shakes violently.
The pit widens slightly.
The symbols flicker erratically.
"You resist," the entity observes.
"Yes."
"You were not meant to."
"I don't care what I was meant to."
The entity studies me.
Then—
It smiles.
Not with a mouth.
With energy.
"You are unstable."
"Welcome to the club."
It lunges.
Not at the figure.
At me.
We collide mid-chamber.
Magic against absence.
Light against depth.
The impact blasts cracks across the stone walls.
The figure fires their weapon.
The shot passes through the entity harmlessly.
Useless.
This isn't physical.
This is structural.
The Veil hums violently above us.
I can feel it.
The city reacting.
The entity's grip tightens around my arm.
And suddenly—
I'm not in the chamber anymore.
I'm standing in the city.
But it's wrong.
No Veil.
No concealment.
Creatures walking openly.
Buildings twisted into impossible shapes.
People kneeling to shadows.
And me—
Standing at the center.
Calm.
Unbothered.
Ruling.
The entity's voice surrounds me.
"This is the unveiled world."
My heart pounds.
"This is conquest."
"This is truth."
The sky fractures like glass.
Light pours through.
The creatures don't attack.
They bow.
"To you."
I turn.
And see myself.
Different.
Older.
Eyes glowing like the entity's.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just power.
Raw and absolute.
The vision snaps.
I'm back in the chamber.
The entity still holding me.
"You see now," it says softly. "You are not the defender."
"I never claimed to be."
"You are the catalyst."
I shove it back with everything I have.
Magic surges wildly.
Uncontrolled.
The symbols on the walls begin breaking apart.
The pit expands another inch.
The figure screams, "Stop! You're feeding it!"
I freeze.
Breathing hard.
The entity steadies itself.
"You fear what you are."
"No," I say through clenched teeth.
"I fear losing control."
It tilts its head again.
"Control is illusion."
"I don't believe in illusions."
"You are one."
That lands deeper than it should.
The chamber ceiling cracks.
Dust rains down.
The foundation of Meridian Tower groans above us.
If this place collapses—
Thousands die.
And not as collateral.
As consequence.
I lower my hands.
Think.
Think.
It feeds on escalation.
On instability.
On my reactions.
So what if I do the opposite?
I close my eyes.
Withdraw my magic completely.
Not suppress.
Withdraw.
Pull it inward.
Silence it.
The chamber's glow dims.
The pit stops widening.
The entity stiffens.
"You retreat."
"Yes."
"This delays inevitability."
"Good."
It studies me again.
Longer this time.
"You are incomplete."
"Join the club."
A faint tremor runs through it.
Not anger.
Interest.
"The fracture inside you will widen."
"Maybe."
"And when it does…"
I open my eyes.
"And when it does, I'll decide what breaks."
The symbols begin dimming one by one.
The chamber stabilizes.
The entity steps backward toward the pit.
"You cannot bury origin," it says.
"I can try."
It pauses at the edge.
"The next thinning will not ask permission."
"Then I won't give it any."
It descends slowly back into darkness.
The pit seals halfway.
Not fully.
Never fully.
The chamber falls silent.
The figure collapses to their knees.
"What… what just happened?"
I stare at the pit.
"I think I just had a family reunion."
They look up sharply.
"You believe it?"
"I don't know what I believe."
That's the problem.
The vision still lingers.
The unveiled world.
The version of me that didn't hesitate.
That didn't care about collateral.
Was that manipulation?
Or possibility?
The ground trembles lightly again.
But this time—
It's stabilizing.
The Veil above is tightening.
Repairing.
For now.
"We need to leave," the figure says weakly.
"Yes."
We turn toward where the elevator was.
It's gone.
Replaced by a narrow staircase carved into stone.
Of course it is.
We climb.
Each step feels heavier.
Not physically.
Mentally.
"You were born during a thinning?" they ask carefully.
"Yes."
"You never told me that."
"You never asked."
Silence.
We reach the top.
A steel door blocks the exit.
I push it open.
We emerge into a sub-basement maintenance corridor.
Normal walls.
Normal lighting.
Like nothing ancient sleeps beneath it.
Sirens still echo faintly outside.
The crisis above has been contained.
Temporarily.
The figure leans against the wall.
"You can't go back to pretending you're not connected."
"I wasn't pretending."
"Yes, you were."
I don't respond.
Because they're right.
I've always felt slightly misaligned.
Like the world was layered wrong around me.
Like I could see a crack no one else could.
Now I know why.
The fracture.
Inside me.
The entity wasn't trying to kill me.
It was trying to activate me.
And that's worse.
We reach the lobby.
Emergency crews still swarm outside.
Media vans arriving.
Meridian Tower looks pristine again.
Public narrative already forming.
Gas leak.
Electrical surge.
Minor incident.
The city loves denial.
I step out into the night air.
It feels thinner.
Sharper.
"You stopped it," the figure says.
"For now."
"What happens next?"
I look up at the skyline.
At the invisible threads of the Veil weaving desperately overhead.
"Next," I say quietly, "we find out who marked me."
"And if the entity was telling the truth?"
I smirk slightly.
"Then the city has a bigger problem than a thinning."
They frown.
"What problem?"
I start walking into the neon-lit streets.
"Me."
Behind us, deep beneath Meridian Tower, the pit pulses once.
Softly.
Patiently.
Waiting.