That morning the desert looked different.
The sun was the same; it was shining brightly. The heat was the same; it was burning hot. The sand had changed. Ombak stood at the edge of our camp, his green eyes fixed on the horizon. His face was pale like he had seen something. His hands were shaking, like he was really cold.
"It's close," he said. "I can feel it. The ground beneath us is not solid. It moves, it breathes, like something."
I looked at the sand; it looked the same as yesterday. Endless, empty and really quiet. Beneath my feet I felt something: a vibration, low and deep like a heartbeat.
Lina stepped beside me; her hand was in mine. Her eyes were not glowing. Her face was tense, like she was worried.
"Do you feel it?" she asked me.
"Yes", I said.
She nodded; she didn't say anything.
---
We walked for an hour, two hours; the sun climbed higher, and the heat grew worse. The sand beneath our feet shifted with every step like it was trying to pull us down.
Raka was at the front; his face was red from the sun, and his eyes were scanning the horizon. Kirana walked beside him; her hand was on his arm. Maya was behind them; her silver bracelet was hidden under her sleeve. Ombak led the way; his steps were steady, and his eyes were fixed on something only he could see.
Lina walked beside me; her hand was in mine, and her palm was sweating.
"You're nervous," I said to her.
She didn't answer.
"Lina", I said again.
She stopped. Her eyes were on the sand, on something I couldn't see.
"Something is wrong," she said. "The ground is not—"
The sand opened; it just dropped. One moment we were standing on ground, the next we were falling.
Raka grabbed Kirana. Maya grabbed Ombak. Lina grabbed me.
We fell. The sand pulled us down, not like water, but like something that had been waiting for us to step in the wrong place.
I tried to see and tried to reach for the Ember Core. The sand was everywhere – in my eyes, in my mouth, in my lungs. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I could only hold Linas's hand and fall.
We fell for what seemed like the light; it disappeared, the heat disappeared, everything disappeared. There was only darkness, only sand, only the pull of something that wanted us to come deeper.
Then we stopped.
---
I opened my eyes. I was lying on stone, black, smooth, and cold. The sand was gone; the heat was gone. There was darkness and stone and the sound of breathing.
Lina was beside me; her hand was still in mine, her eyes were closed, and her face was pale.
"Lina," I shook her shoulder. "Lina, wake up."
Her eyes opened, brown and warm, not glowing.
"Where are we?" Her voice was weak.
"I don't know," I said.
I stood and looked around. We were in a large chamber; the walls were stone, black, and smooth like the temple in the sea but older, much older. The ceiling was high above us, lost in darkness. The floor was carved with symbols, the symbols from my grandfather's basement from Room 13 from the temple where we found Aegis.
Raka was on the side of the chamber helping Kirana to her feet. Maya was helping Ombak; they were all here, all alive.
"What is this place?" Raka's voice echoed in the darkness.
Ombak looked around; his face was pale, and his hands were shaking.
"We're under the desert," he said. "Under the sand under everything this is—"
He stopped, his voice cracked, "This is the city, the one your grandfather found, the one he tried to bury."
I looked at the walls at the carvings at the symbols that were the same as the ones I had seen in my grandfather's basement in Room 13 in the temple in the sea.
"This city was here before humans," Maya said, her voice was quiet, "before anything."
Ombak nodded; his green eyes were fixed on the darkness ahead.
"Yes. Something is still here, something that never left."
---
We walked into the darkness. The tunnel was wide and tall enough for all of us to walk together. The walls were smooth, too smooth, like they had been carved by something that did not use tools. The floor was covered in symbols, the symbols over and over repeating, like a message that had been written so many times it had become a chant.
"What are these symbols?" Kirana asked.
Maya knelt; her fingers touched the stone. "They're the same as the ones in the temple, the same as the ones in Room 13, but here—" She looked up. "Here they're older, much older."
"Can you read them?" I asked.
Maya shook her head. "Not all of them, but some—" She pointed to a cluster near the wall. "These ones are about waiting, about sleeping, about something that was supposed to stay closed."
"The door", Lina said, her voice was quiet. "The Void, it was supposed to stay closed. Your grandfather opened it."
We walked deeper; the tunnel went down into the earth, the air grew colder, the walls grew darker, and the symbols on the floor began to change, not repeating anymore, telling a story.
Maya stopped. Her hand was on the wall; her face was pale.
"What is it?" I asked.
"The symbols", she said, "they're not about the door anymore; they're about what came through."
I looked at the wall at the carvings, at the shapes that were not quite human.
"What came through?" I asked.
Maya's voice was a whisper, "Something that was here before we were, something that was here before the artefacts, something that wanted to be remembered, wanted to be seen, wanted to be—"
She stopped, her hand was shaking. "I wanted to be free."
Lina stepped forward; her eyes were glowing faint silver-white.
"It's still here," she said. "I can feel it; it never left. It's been waiting for someone to open the door again, for someone to let it out."
She looked at me; her eyes were sad.
"Kael, your grandfather didn't just open the door; he saw what was inside, and he tried to close it, but he couldn't, so he buried it, hid it, and wrote warnings so no one else would try."
She took my hand.
"We're here now, and it knows."
---
We walked deeper; the tunnel opened into a chamber. The walls were covered in carvings, not symbols this time, but faces – hundreds of faces, old, young, human, not human – all of them looking at something in the centre of the room.
I looked at the centre; there was a door, not like the door in the sea that had been a circle of light. This was different; this was darkness, a darkness deep it seemed to swallow the light from our torches, a darkness that breathed, that waited, that knew we were there.
"The Void", Ombak said, his voice was quiet. "Your grandfather opened it. Something came out."
"What came out?" Rakas's voice was rough.
Ombak didn't answer; his green eyes were fixed on the darkness.
Lina stepped forward; her hand left mine. She walked toward the door, toward the darkness.
"Lina—" I said.
She didn't stop. Her eyes were glowing, bright, silver-white. Her hand reached out toward the darkness, toward the door.
And the darkness reached back; it didn't attack, it didn't grab, it simply touched her hand, her fingers, her skin.
She stopped; her eyes were wide, her face was pale, and her lips were moving. No sound came out.
"Lina! "I ran toward her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back.
She stumbled and fell against me. Her eyes were not glowing anymore; they were Lina's eyes, brown and scared.
"What happened?" I held her. "What did it do?"
She looked at the door at the darkness at the thing that had touched her.
"It spoke," she said, her voice shaking. "It said—"
She stopped and swallowed. "It said it has been waiting for your grandfather to come back for someone to open the door again for someone to let it out."
She looked at me; her eyes were wet.
"Kael, it wants us to open the door; it wants us to let it out. It's been waiting so long it doesn't care what happens anymore."