The summit stretched out before them, a vast, desolate plateau of ice and stone. The howling winds had died down, leaving only an eerie silence that settled deep in Priya's chest. She rubbed her arms, trying to shake the cold, but the chill that seeped into her bones had nothing to do with the weather.
Ahead of them, hidden beneath layers of mist and frost, **a ruined structure** loomed in the distance.
It wasn't a temple.
It wasn't a shrine.
It was something **far worse**—a **laboratory**.
Manav exhaled sharply, his breath curling in the frigid air. His body still ached from the battle with the statues, but his **willpower** burned hotter than ever.
Priya, however, hesitated.
"Manav… what is this place?" she murmured.
Her brother stepped forward, boots crunching against the icy ground. "The answer we came for," he said simply.
Priya swallowed. Something about this felt **wrong**.
She had expected an altar. A pool of celestial water. A mystical relic.
Not **this**.
As they moved closer, the details became clearer. The laboratory was **massive**, built directly into the mountain itself. Steel walls, long since corroded by time, were fractured and half-buried beneath the ice. Broken pipes jutted out from the ground like ribs of some long-dead creature. **The entire facility was in ruins**, as if it had been abandoned for centuries.
Yet, despite its decay, it still **stood**.
Still **waited**.
And Priya had the sickening feeling that something inside it **was waiting for them, too**.
---
The front gates were rusted over, massive slabs of reinforced metal that looked as if they had once been sealed **permanently**. Yet, a portion of the left door had been **torn open**, leaving a jagged entrance just big enough for them to slip through.
"Something forced its way inside," Priya muttered, running a gloved hand over the twisted steel.
Manav didn't care. Without a second thought, he stepped inside.
Priya clenched her teeth and **followed**.
The moment they entered, the temperature dropped.
The cold inside the laboratory was different from the outside. It was **unnatural**—not just freezing, but **sterile**, as if the air itself had been **drained of life**.
The hallway stretched forward into **darkness**, the floor covered in a thin layer of frost. Broken glass crunched beneath their feet as they moved deeper, their breaths fogging in the frigid air.
Priya's fingers instinctively curled around the **dagger** at her waist.
She didn't trust this place.
She didn't trust the **silence**.
And she certainly didn't trust the feeling that they were being **watched**.
---
As they walked, the ruins told their own story.
Shattered screens lined the walls, some still flickering with half-dead images of unreadable data. **Tables and desks were overturned**, their contents scattered—old syringes, strange tools, notes written in a language Priya didn't recognize.
Manav **paused**, crouching beside a rusted metal slab that looked like an **operating table**. Deep **claw marks** were gouged into its surface.
"Something was restrained here," he muttered.
Priya's heart pounded.
She could feel it now. The **echo** of something **terrible** that had happened in this place.
Something **unnatural**.
And then—
Her eyes fell on the **walls**.
At first, she thought they were just cracked from age. But as she moved closer, she realized—
**They weren't cracks.**
They were **scratches**.
Dozens of them. Hundreds.
Some shallow. Some deep enough to **pierce metal**.
And between them—written in jagged, barely legible letters—
A single phrase, repeated over and over.
*"DON'T OPEN THE GATE."*
Priya's blood ran **cold**.
"Manav," she whispered, pointing.
Manav **stared**.
For the first time since they had started this journey, he hesitated.
Something **deep inside him** whispered that this place had been left to rot **for a reason**.
But then he clenched his fists.
He had come too far.
Had **sacrificed too much**.
He was **not** turning back now.
Without another word, he pushed forward.
Priya followed, but her hands wouldn't stop **shaking**.
The hallway finally opened into a **massive chamber**.
Pipes ran along the walls like veins. The ceiling was high, nearly lost in the shadows above. In the center of the room, surrounded by broken machinery and frost-covered computers, **stood a massive door**.
**The Last Gate.**
Priya **stopped breathing**.
The gate was **sealed shut**, thick steel bars locking it in place. Strange symbols were carved into its surface, glowing faintly in the dim light.
And at its base—
**The bodies.**
Frozen corpses lay scattered across the floor, their faces locked in expressions of **pure agony**.
Priya **staggered backward**. "No… what is this?"
Manav, however, **didn't flinch**.
He knelt beside one of the bodies, brushing away the ice. The corpse was **ancient**, its flesh withered and gray. But something about it was **wrong**.
Its hands were **not human**.
Its bones were **elongated**.
Its teeth were **sharpened**.
Priya covered her mouth. "These aren't… people."
Manav exhaled. "They were."
She shook her head. "No. No, this isn't right. What if—what if this is what happens to the ones who take immortality?"
Manav's gaze **darkened**.
He **refused** to believe that.
He refused to believe that **his future** lay among these rotting things.
*"This is just a failed experiment,"* he said coldly.
*"We will be different."*
But Priya wasn't so sure.
And for the first time—**she wasn't sure if she even wanted to go forward.**
---
As they stood before the gate, **something changed**.
A **sound**.
Low, distant.
A **whisper**.
It came from **beyond the gate**.
Manav's heart pounded as he stepped closer.
Priya grabbed his arm. "Manav, don't."
But he didn't stop.
He **placed his palm on the gate**.
And then—
**He heard it.**
*"Come in."*
Priya saw it before he did.
The symbols on the gate **flashed**.
The steel **rumbled**.
The air **grew heavy**.
Something was **awakening**.
Priya's nails dug into Manav's wrist. "We need to go. Now."
Manav **smiled**.
It was the first **genuine smile** she had seen from him in years.
*"We've found it."*
The **Last Gate** began to open.
And the world **would never be the same again.**