Tharamis remained seated, watching them fly away into the distance, then let out a small laugh.
"The first one fainted, and he's in Stage Three… while the boy only in Stage One didn't even feel my aura. Hah… The world is truly about to change."
*****
Kael lay on the back of the Silent Keeper as he flew through the air. Nyros flew beside them, his body surrounded by burning flames. Kael had a lot to think about. He now understood his bloodline's power and how to use it. He'd uncovered many secrets about this world… and yet, the biggest questions remained unanswered.
His parents.
Who were they? Where were they? Did they possess the same bloodline?
He didn't feel love toward them. In truth, he felt nothing. He only wanted to know why—why they had left him in a prison his entire life. Why they had denied him the right to live.
Then there was the hunger of his bloodline… and the Mark.
He should've faced it when reaching Stage Four, but he was still too weak. He had to resist its pull, or be devoured.
The Black Blood.
He thought about it too.
He had clearly absorbed it—but when he looked at the bloodline threads he had acquired, it wasn't there.
"I'll think about that later…"
Eventually, they arrived at a narrow tunnel, barely wide enough for one person. They landed.
Nyros and the Silent Keeper—whose name, it seemed, was Sylon—were communicating through internal pulses. After a moment, Sylon placed his finger on Nyros's forehead.
Then he turned to Kael. He smiled behind his stitched mouth and gave a slight bow.
"He says, 'Safe travels,'" Nyros translated.
Kael bowed as well. "Thank you for your help. I hope we meet again."
Sylon nodded and took off, leaving Kael and Nyros to enter the tunnel.
*****
The tunnel stretched long ahead, dim yellow lights lining its ceiling. It was narrow at first, but widened the deeper they went.
"What did Sylon do when he touched your forehead?" Kael asked.
"He implanted a map of this area into my mind."
Kael blinked. "Wait… you can do that?"
Nyros smiled. "Yeah. Once you reach a high level, you can draw things using invisible lines—just energy. That's what he did."
"What level is Sylon at?"
Nyros scratched his chin. "I'd say… probably Stage Five."
There were more questions Kael wanted to ask. But he didn't want to intrude on things that weren't his business.
"You still haven't explained what a Pulse is."
"Oh, right—I forgot. A Pulse happens when someone awakens. It's a wave that radiates through the surroundings. The purer the person's blood, the stronger the Pulse. And something strange happens every time—this layer changes. Black blood seeps out… like when we escaped last time. The Silent Keepers sensed the Pulse and sent an internal wave to everyone in the Lower District."
Kael thought for a moment. His cell had changed when he awakened. But there was only a little black blood.
So… was his blood not pure enough?
"How do the Silent Keepers even know a Pulse is coming?"
"In the White City, there's a tower called the Tower of Blood Surveillance. It stores every registered bloodline of every person born. Beneath the continent, there are networks—wires or veins or something. I don't fully understand it. But when a Pulse happens, it travels through those lines and reaches the tower."
Kael felt relief.
Ignorance truly was a terrible weight.
They continued forward, and with every step, the light grew dimmer.
Then—footsteps.
Unnatural. Uneven.
They echoed through the tunnel in a rhythm that didn't feel human. It wasn't the sound of feet—it was wet flesh dragging over stone, mixed with faint wheezing, like the breath of the long-dead.
Nyros stopped cold. He didn't turn his head.
"Kael… don't look up. Keep walking. Like you don't hear anything."
Kael gave a slight nod.
But his heart pounded in his chest like it wanted to flee on its own.
The footsteps came closer.
And closer.
Shadows flickered on the tunnel walls. Twisted shapes. Bent. Trembling. Searching for sound… breath… thought.
The air grew heavy.
Fear sank into Kael's bones. He felt something cold brush past his arm—like a hand gliding across his skin without touching it. He heard weeping.
No… not weeping.
A choking, muffled wail—like someone sobbing from beneath water.
They lowered themselves even more. Shoulder to shoulder, heads down, eyes on the ground. Each step felt like it would wake the dead.
Then—
A pebble.
Tiny. Harmless.
Rolled beneath Kael's foot.
He stumbled, Just slightly. Didn't fall.
But it was enough.
That step—unfinished—echoed like a scream in a tomb.
And then… Silence.
All sound vanished.
All breathing.
All sick whispers.
Gone.
The world held its breath. Kael froze. He didn't dare move.
His eyes locked on the filthy water at his feet.
And in that still reflection…
He saw it.
Something.
Right next to him.
Gray, rotting skin. No hair. No features. No mouth. No nose. No ears. Just stretched flesh over bone. Its face was sealed with skin… as if its mouth had been sewn shut with living tissue.
Eyes?No.
Two pits. Deep. Black.
Empty. But the pits moved, Slowly…They tilted upward.
Toward him.
And now…
It was no longer just a reflection.
It was in front of him.
Directly.
Its face only breaths away from Kael's lowered head.
Then…
The pits began to glow.
Red.
Faint, at first.
Then brighter.
Like two coals reigniting after centuries of sleep.
The glow reached into Kael's eyes.
Something was being pulled out of him.
Slowly.
As if his entire life was being unraveled thread by thread.
He felt a strange warmth in his eyes… Then… a freezing chill in his heart.
A thin red stream began leaking from his eyes—drawn into the black voids before him.
Kael couldn't even scream. His body refused to move. Something older than time held him still. Weakness spread through his limbs. His soul being siphoned, drop by agonizing drop. And still… he couldn't move.
Suddenly—
Nyros burst into flames.
The tunnel blazed with light.
There were dozens—hundreds—of the creatures in every corner, above, beside, behind, ahead.
Nyros grabbed the creature draining Kael and burned its face.
A non-human scream erupted—not from one.
But from all of them at once.