I open my eyes, and everything is dark—so dark that I can't tell where the ground meets the sky, if there even is one. A cold, eerie void stretches out in all directions, endless and empty. I blink rapidly, trying to adjust, but it's no use. The oppressive blackness presses against me from all sides. My heart starts to race, and panic swells in my chest. Where am I?

"Nikko? Llamiryl?" My voice sounds small in the void, swallowed by the darkness.

I feel a small hand grip mine tightly—Nikko's. I can sense her fear even before I hear her trembling breath. Her fingers squeeze mine, and I pull her close, wrapping an arm around her protectively. "It's okay," I whisper, though I'm not sure if I believe it. My own voice shakes.

Llamiryl is here too, standing a little distance away, her long, flowing robes a barely visible silhouette in the gloom. Her raven-colored hair glints faintly, but even her calm, composed presence feels fragile here. She's just as confused as we are, glancing around warily, though her expression remains unreadable.

"Where... where are we?" I ask, the knot of dread tightening in my stomach. My thoughts dart immediately to Ryu—what if we're too late?

"In Ryu's mind," Llamiryl says, her voice as serene as ever, though there's an underlying tension. "We've entered his consciousness."

Ryu's mind. The words send a chill through me. This place feels nothing like the man I know—it's cold, vast, and suffocating. Nikko's fingers dig deeper into my palm, and I instinctively hold her tighter.

"Where is Apollo?" Llamiryl's voice breaks the silence, and I realize she's scanning the void, frowning. "He should be with us."

"He... maybe he let go?" I suggest, but my voice betrays the nervousness creeping into my thoughts. I don't want Llamiryl to know more than she already does. I can't reveal what Ryu really is—not to her, not now.

Llamiryl raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but after a moment's pause, she simply nods and turns her gaze back to the void. 

"Strange," she mutters, as though to herself.

I swallow, trying to push down the rising anxiety. "What's wrong?"

"Normally, we would see his memories by now," she explains, her tone thoughtful, "They would appear like doors, passageways into his past, but..." She turns slowly, her eyes narrowing as if sensing something hidden just beyond our reach. "There are none here. I feel a dark, powerful presence... It's preventing me from accessing them."

A jolt of realization runs through me. "The Shadowfell," I whisper, my stomach dropping. Of course—it has to be the creature, lurking here in the darkness, twisting everything.

Llamiryl's calm demeanor barely falters. "That is likely. But..." she trails off, deep in thought.

"Can't you summon anything?" I ask, desperation slipping into my voice. We can't be trapped here with nothing—no way out, no way forward.

Llamiryl lets out a soft chuckle. "Of course I can."

She closes her eyes and raises her hands. I watch, holding my breath as the air around us trembles. There's a pressure in the void, a heaviness that grows, as though the very space around us is resisting her efforts. The ground—if it can be called that—shakes beneath our feet. Nikko whimpers, clutching me tighter.

Then, suddenly, a change. A distant rumble echoes, and out of the darkness, something begins to take shape. At first, it's a blur—a ripple in the fabric of the void itself. And then, with a startling jolt, a hallway materializes before us, long and seemingly endless, stretching far beyond what the eye can see.

But this hallway is like nothing I've ever seen before. The walls are smooth and metallic, gleaming with a cold, unnatural sheen. Black and gray panels line the sides, with strange patterns of lights embedded into them, flickering on and off like dying stars. The ceiling curves above us, a solid sheet of steel, adorned with thin, glowing strips of light that cast a harsh, sterile glow on the scene. Everything about it feels... wrong. Foreign. Not of our world.

"What is this place?" I breathe, stepping closer but feeling a knot of unease twist in my gut. It's too clean, too precise, too... lifeless. I glance at Nikko, who stares at the hallway wide-eyed, her ears twitching in confusion.

"I do not know," Llamiryl answers, her voice tinged with curiosity. She steps forward, inspecting the strange metallic structure. "I've never seen anything like it."

None of us have. The coldness of the hallway seeps into me, and as I look down its endless length, I feel a deep, unsettling emptiness. It stretches on forever, with no end in sight.

Llamiryl reaches out to touch the wall, her fingers brushing the metal surface. "These should be his memories, yet they're... hidden. Encased in something else."

The shadows flicker along the edges of the hallway, as if alive, watching us. I shudder, pulling Nikko closer. I don't know what terrifies me more—the fact that we're inside Ryu's mind or that we're standing in a place that feels so utterly... alien.

Llamiryl takes a confident stride forward, and I instinctively pull Nikko along, keeping her close. Each step echoes hollowly in the vast metallic hallway, the walls gleaming under the strange lights. It's eerily silent, save for the faint humming from the ceiling panels. The longer we walk, the more unsettled I feel.

Suddenly, Llamiryl stops in her tracks. Her head tilts slightly, as if she's listening to something I can't hear. Without a word, she steps up to one of the sleek, cold walls, her hand outstretched.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice low, careful not to sound too alarmed. My heart is racing, and Nikko tugs gently on my sleeve, her ears twitching nervously.

"Summoning a memory," Llamiryl replies, her fingers brushing the surface. Her expression is focused, her eyes narrowing. "I can feel the dark presence here. This is where a memory should be."

Before I can ask more, the walls around us tremble violently. I grab Nikko, pulling her close, and the ground shakes beneath our feet. The tremors seem to ripple through the entire hall, as though something vast and terrible is stirring. Nikko gasps, her grip tightening around my waist, and I find myself gasping, too. I'm scared. I won't lie.

A low rumble fills the air, and the metallic wall before Llamiryl starts to shift. Slowly, impossibly, a door materializes—no, not a door like any I've seen before. It's sleek, strange, and angular, not wooden or stone like the doors I know. It slides upward with a hiss, revealing a heavy frame embedded in the wall, the edges glowing faintly.

"What... what kind of door is that?" I whisper, staring in disbelief. It feels utterly unnatural.

Llamiryl stumbles backward, her legs almost buckling under her. Without thinking, I rush forward and catch her, bracing her weight against me. Her skin feels cold to the touch, and I can hear her strained breathing. "Are you alright?" I ask, feeling my own heart pounding in my chest.

"I'm fine," she says between ragged breaths. Her voice is calm, despite the strain. "This creature is more powerful than I had anticipated." She closes her eyes, steadying herself, and after a few moments, she stands straight again, though her face remains pale. "Just let me catch my breath."

I watch her closely, but she manages a soft smile, as if to reassure me. Her calmness is unsettling, given what just happened, but I try to steady my own nerves. Nikko, still holding tightly to my hand, stares at the door, her wide eyes reflecting both fear and curiosity.

After what feels like an eternity, Llamiryl turns back toward the strange door. Her hand rises toward it again, but this time she hesitates, glancing at both of us. "Are you ready?" she asks.

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of the question. I'm not ready—how could anyone be ready for this? But there's no turning back. "I'm sorry for intruding," I whisper softly, almost to myself, but Nikko nods beside me, her small face full of determination despite the worry in her eyes.

Llamiryl waves her hand once more, and the door hisses, sliding upward. A blinding white light pours through the opening, too bright for me to make out anything beyond. I raise my arm to shield my eyes, squinting against the brilliance. The light is overwhelming, almost unnatural in its intensity.

Through the glare, I see Llamiryl step forward, her silhouette swallowed by the light. My heart races, but I can feel Nikko's grip tighten around my hand, her trust in me holding me steady.

Together, we step into the light, leaving the cold, metallic hallway behind. The moment I step forward, everything changes. The air is immediately heavy, suffocatingly hot, like stepping into a forge. My skin prickles, slick with sweat, and it's as if the heat itself is trying to choke me. The smell hits me next—a sour, metallic stench mingled with something foul. It's almost unbearable, and my stomach twists.

Nikko clings tighter to my hand, her small body trembling beside me. I can feel her fear as she presses against me, and I instinctively wrap an arm around her, trying to shield her from the overwhelming heat and the terrible sights before us.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

We are in a tunnel—no, a mine. The walls are jagged rock, dark and unforgiving, barely lit by faint, flickering lights embedded in the ceiling. It's oppressive, cramped, and suffocating. The ground beneath my feet is uneven, covered in dust and shards of broken stone, and each step sends a puff of dust into the already toxic air.

I glance at Nikko, her face pale, her wide eyes reflecting the faint, dim light. Her ears are pressed flat against her head, and her tail flicks nervously, mirroring the unease I feel deep in my chest. This place—it feels wrong. Like something out of a nightmare.

But it's what we see in the tunnel that makes my blood run cold.

There are people—slaves, I realize—hunched over, their bodies gaunt and skeletal, covered in ragged clothing soaked with sweat and grime. Their faces are hollow, their eyes vacant, as if all life had been drained from them. Some have strange shapes—twisted limbs, unnatural proportions. Others are more human in form, but all are broken, their movements slow and mechanical. They swing heavy tools—pickaxes and hammers—against the rock walls, each strike sending echoes through the tunnel. The sound of metal on stone is relentless, like a heartbeat that never stops.

I feel a wave of nausea as I watch them. How long have they been down here? How can anyone survive this?

The air is filled with the constant clanging of tools and the occasional, sharp crackle of something else—something I can't identify. I turn, and my heart leaps into my throat.

Figures stand in the shadows, watching over the slaves. They're draped in long, dark robes, their faces hidden behind masks—grotesque, featureless masks that glow faintly in the dim light. They stand tall, menacing, their postures rigid and cold. In their hands, they hold strange weapons—long staffs that crackle with energy at the tips. I don't know what they are, but the sound they make—the low, buzzing hum—is enough to send a chill down my spine.

One of the masked figures moves toward a fallen slave. A jolt of fear surges through me as the overseer—or whatever they are—raises the staff and presses it against the slave's back. There's a loud crackle, and the slave screams—an awful, high-pitched wail of agony. I flinch, pulling Nikko closer, but she's already seen it. Her eyes widen in horror, her breath quickening.

"Why are they hurting them?" she whispers, her voice trembling, her grip tightening around my arm.

"I don't know," I manage to say, but the words feel empty. I can't understand this cruelty.

Llamiryl stands a few steps ahead of us, her expression as cold and composed as ever, but there's a flicker of disgust in her eyes. She watches the masked figures—their rigid postures, the way they move with such detached precision—and her lips tighten. She doesn't say anything, but I can feel her revulsion.

The air grows heavier with each step, and the heat makes it almost impossible to breathe. My skin feels sticky, and my throat burns with every breath. I try to push through the discomfort, but the sheer weight of this place is crushing.

The slaves continue to work, their movements slow and labored. Some swing their pickaxes against the rock, while others sift through piles of broken stone, sorting through the debris with bloodied, calloused hands. The overseers stand watch, their staffs buzzing ominously as they patrol the mine. Occasionally, one of them strikes a slave, sending them convulsing to the ground with a crackle of energy. The screams echo through the tunnel, cutting through the oppressive silence.

I turn my head, trying to shield Nikko from the worst of it, but there's no escape from the horror around us.

That's when I see them—the children.

They're huddled near the far wall, their small, fragile bodies bent over piles of rocks. Their clothes are torn, barely hanging on to their tiny frames, and their faces are smeared with dirt and sweat. They can't be older than Nikko, some of them even younger, their fingers bloodied from scraping through the sharp stones. Their faces are pale, exhausted, their eyes hollow.

A little girl, her dark hair matted to her scalp, struggles to lift a stone, her hands trembling from the effort. A boy, his eyes wide with fear, sifts through the debris beside her, his movements slow and desperate. They don't speak, they don't look up. They just... work.

"They're like me," Nikko whispers, her voice breaking as she watches them. "They're just like me."

Her words tear at my heart, and I feel a lump rise in my throat. I don't know what to say—how could I possibly explain this to her? How could anyone explain this?

I try to steady my breathing, but my chest feels tight, and the overwhelming weight of what we're witnessing crashes over me. Before I can even process it, I see one of the robed figures step toward the group of children.

The robed figure steps forward, its movements sharp and rigid, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. It moves with a cold, calculated authority, the dark robes sweeping the ground as it approaches one of the children— a small, frail girl, no older than Nikko. The child barely manages to keep working, her hands trembling as she sifts through a pile of sharp rocks, her tiny body hunched and weak, her ribs visible through the thin, tattered rags that hang from her frame.

The figure towers over her, holding the staff high. A low, buzzing hum fills the air, and it says something in a language I don't recognize, its voice deep and harsh. The girl looks up, her wide, terrified eyes meeting the figure's mask.

"I didn't! I swear!" the girl pleads, her voice weak and shaking. It's clear she understands the figure, though I don't know how. Her hands tremble as she raises them in a desperate attempt to shield herself.

The robed figure doesn't hesitate. It growls something—more forceful this time—and grabs the child by her collar, yanking her up from the ground as if she weighs nothing. The girl gasps, her small feet dangling helplessly in the air as the figure pins her against the rough wall of the tunnel.

"Let her go!" I shout, the words tearing from me before I can stop them. My voice is loud, desperate. I take a step forward, my heart pounding with fear for the child, but... nothing happens. No one reacts. The figure doesn't even flinch. The girl continues to plead for mercy, her voice small and pitiful.

Llamiryl's hand lands gently on my shoulder, holding me back. "They can't hear you," she says softly, her tone almost apologetic. "This is a memory. Ryu's memory. We are nothing more than spectators."

Her words hit me like a wave of cold water. A memory. Ryu's memory. I feel the blood drain from my face as the realization sinks in. Ryu. If this is his memory, then... where is he? I turn toward Llamiryl, my voice barely above a whisper. "Where is he? Where is Ryu?"

Before Llamiryl can answer, the robed figure shouts again, its tone growing angrier. The foreign words echo harshly in the tunnel, like venom dripping from its mouth. The child struggles weakly in its grip, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. A boy—just as dirty and malnourished as the girl—steps forward from the shadows. His clothes are torn, his face streaked with grime, but there's something about him that draws my attention immediately. His eyes... they're filled with fear, but also with a fierce, defiant light. He drops the rocks he was sifting and stands tall, though his small frame is shaking.

"Let her go!" the boy shouts, his voice cracking but full of resolve. "I did it! I stole the spice!"

The robed figure turns sharply, dropping the girl to the ground. She lands with a thud, her tiny body crumpling as she gasps for breath. The figure now looms over the boy, its masked face unreadable, but I can feel the menace radiating from it.

"I did it!" the boy repeats, his voice stronger now, despite the fear evident in his eyes. "Punish me instead!"

The figure speaks again, the words harsh and foreign, but the boy doesn't flinch. He stands there, staring up at the towering figure. Then, without warning, the figure thrusts its staff forward, pressing the crackling tip against the boy's chest.

The boy cries out in pain, a horrible, guttural sound that echoes through the tunnel. His body convulses, and he falls to his knees, clutching at his chest where the staff had struck. The figure doesn't stop. It holds the staff against him, the energy pulsing through the boy's small frame as he writhes on the ground.

I can't watch. I turn away, my heart hammering in my chest, and I pull Nikko closer, shielding her from the sight. She clutches at me, burying her face in my side, her small body shaking.

The boy's cries feel like they go on forever, each one cutting deeper into me. It's unbearable. I can't stand this—this cruelty, this suffering. It's too much. My body trembles with a mixture of rage and sorrow, but I'm helpless. There's nothing I can do.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the robed figure lifts its staff. The boy falls forward, his body convulsing, his chest rising and falling with shallow, painful breaths. The figure says something again, pointing at the boy with a cold, commanding gesture. The words are foreign, but the meaning is clear. The boy is... nothing to them.

I can't take it anymore. "I don't want to see this," I say, my voice thick with emotion. I turn to Llamiryl, my eyes pleading. "I can't watch this. Where is Ryu?"

Llamiryl's expression is calm, but there's a look in her eyes that tells me she finds this place as despicable as I do. She turns her gaze back to the boy, now slowly getting to his feet, his movements weak and shaky. He reaches out, helping the girl up, his hand trembling as he pulls her to safety.

Llamiryl raises her hand, pointing toward the boy. "There," she says quietly.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as I look at the boy again. It can't be... I feel my heart pound in my chest as the pieces fall into place, and my mind reels. That's... that's Ryu.

"That's Ryu?" I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. I take a step forward, my legs feeling like they might give out beneath me. I can't believe what I'm seeing. Ryu... as a child. Here. In this awful place. A slave. Just like Nikko had been.

Tears well up in my eyes as I approach him, my heart breaking at the sight. He looks so small, so vulnerable. I reach out instinctively, but I know I can't touch him. He can't see me. He can't hear me.

Nikko steps forward too, her tear-filled eyes wide with shock and sadness. She watches the boy—her Papa—with a look of pure heartbreak. "Papa?" she whispers, her voice barely audible.

But the boy—Ryu—doesn't react. He's oblivious to our presence, lost in the torment of his past. The ground suddenly trembles beneath us. It's a violent, jarring shake that rattles the walls of the tunnel. I nearly lose my balance, and Nikko clings to me, her little hands trembling as she holds on tight. My heart races, instinctively looking around for some sign of reaction, but... nothing.

None of the children, none of the other slaves, not even the overseers react to the quake. They all continue as if nothing happened, their lifeless movements undisturbed by the chaos around them. It's as though they're frozen in this terrible moment, oblivious to everything.

"What's happening?" I whisper, my voice shaky, eyes darting around, trying to make sense of this. The tremors are getting stronger, and I can feel the ground shifting beneath my feet.

"The dark presence," Llamiryl says, her voice calm, though her eyes remain fixed on the tunnel ahead. "It's moved on... to another memory. We have to follow."

I can barely process her words. My mind is still reeling from what I've just seen—Ryu, a child, suffering in this place. But there's no time to dwell on it, no time to try to comprehend the weight of it all. I can still feel Nikko's tiny hand gripping mine, and that's enough to pull me back to reality. We have to move.

Llamiryl doesn't hesitate. With a smooth, practiced motion, she raises her hand and waves it toward the rough, jagged stone wall in front of us. I watch, my heart still racing, as the wall ripples, distorting as if the stone itself is bending to her will. Then, with a low hiss, the stone parts, revealing the same strange, foreign-looking door as before.

It's the same as the last one—alien, metallic, its design cold and unnatural. The door slides upward with that same, unsettling hiss, and the tunnel is suddenly bathed in blinding white light. The brightness stings my eyes, and I instinctively raise my hand to shield them, squinting against the brilliance.

Llamiryl steps forward without a word, her figure silhouetted by the harsh light. There's no hesitation in her movements, no fear in her posture. She walks straight into the light, her form disappearing into the brilliance.

I glance down at Nikko, her tear-streaked face still pale from what we've just witnessed. She's trembling, her wide eyes staring at the blinding light in front of us. I pull her closer, wrapping an arm around her small body.

"It's okay," I whisper, though the words feel hollow. I don't know if anything is okay anymore, but I have to keep moving. For her. For Ryu. "We have to go."

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and step forward, pulling Nikko with me. The light is overwhelming, and my heart pounds in my chest as we step into the unknown, leaving the nightmare of the tunnel behind us.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

As soon as we step into the room, I'm hit by an overwhelming stench that makes my eyes water. It's rancid—like a mix of rotting food, unwashed bodies, and something sour that clings to the back of my throat. I immediately raise a hand to my nose, trying to block out the smell, but it's no use. It seeps into everything. My stomach churns violently.

"Where... where are we now?" I ask, my voice shaky as I fight the urge to gag. Beside me, Nikko does the same, pinching her nose and pressing her face into my side. The room is dark, save for a small crack of light leaking through the ceiling. It's enough to make out the details—bones scattered on the floor, broken pieces of wood, rotting food piled in the corners.

"K-Kessel..." Nikko whispers, her voice trembling.

I glance down at her, barely able to hear her over the pounding in my ears. "What?"

"In those mines," she says, her voice even smaller. "That was Kessel."

Kessel... I don't know the name, but from the look in Nikko's wide, fearful eyes, it's something terrible. Her grip tightens around my arm as we both take in the scene before us. My heart races, and I can feel a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.

And then I see him.

In the middle of the room, a small boy is hanging from chains, suspended in the air. His body looks so frail, so broken. His arms are stretched above him, bound by metal shackles, his head drooping forward, too weak to lift. His skin is caked with dirt, his clothes little more than rags. My breath catches in my throat when I realize... it's Ryu.

A wave of emotion crashes over me—horror, disbelief, sorrow. My chest tightens painfully as I stare at him, my mind reeling. How long has he been like this? How could anyone do this to a child?

The silence is broken by a sudden hiss—a door slides open on the far side of the room, filling the space with a harsh, white light. I squint, shielding my eyes from the brightness, and through the glare, two figures step into the room. One is cloaked, tall and imposing, while the other is... something I can barely describe. It's reptilian, with glinting scales and a long, dragging tail. It moves with a predatory grace, its yellow eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.

The cloaked figure's voice cuts through the air, calm and authoritative. "Is this the child?"

The reptilian figure hisses in response, stepping closer to Ryu with a cruel gleam in its eyes. "Yesss, thisss is the child," it says, its voice sharp and sibilant. "Thisss one isss quite the catch. He'ssss no ordinary ssslave. He hasss the ability to move objectsss with hisss mind. I sssawsss it. Broke itsss chainsss. Tried to essscape, he did. Caussseed quite the commotion, incapacitating many of my guardsss. Moved large rocksss with hisss mind. He even freed a group of child ssslaves... none of them made it."

My breath hitches. He tried to save them. He tried to escape, and... and none of them survived. A heavy weight settles in my chest, and I can feel my hands trembling at my sides. I glance over at Llamiryl, but even her usual calm expression is tight with disgust. Her lips press into a thin line as she watches the scene unfold, her eyes narrowed at the reptilian creature.

"Interesting," the cloaked figure murmurs, stepping closer, though his tone carries a hint of amusement. The way he moves, so deliberate, so controlled... it sends a shiver down my spine.

The reptilian figure circles Ryu, inspecting him with cold, calculating eyes. "He'ssss been in here for four daysss without food or water. He'ssss weak. I have far healthier ssslaves."

"No need," the cloaked figure replies smoothly, as if he's already made his decision.

I barely have time to process what's happening when a flash of red light illuminates the room. The hissing sound fills my ears, and my heart leaps into my throat as I realize what it is. A lightsaber—bright and red, burning through the air—pierces the reptilian's chest. The creature's yellow eyes go wide in shock, a strangled hiss escaping its lips as it crumples to the ground.

The smell of burning flesh hits me, mixing with the already foul stench of the room, and I feel my stomach twist violently. I turn away, instinctively pulling Nikko closer to shield her from the sight, but she's already seen too much. Her small body trembles against me, her ears flattened in terror.

The cloaked figure steps forward, the lightsaber still humming softly as it casts a red glow over the scene. He moves with such precision, such control, that it makes my skin crawl. Without a word, he slices through the chains holding Ryu in the air, and the boy falls to the ground with a dull thud.

Ryu's body barely moves. He's too weak, too exhausted to even lift his head. My heart breaks at the sight, watching him tremble on the ground, his breath shallow and ragged.

The cloaked figure kneels beside him, extinguishing the lightsaber with a soft hiss. He reaches out, his hand calm and steady, offering it to the boy.

"Come," he says, his voice firm yet unnervingly gentle. "Your training has begun, my new Acolyte."

I stare in horror, my mind racing, trying to comprehend what I'm seeing. The calm way he speaks to Ryu, as if this is something normal, as if this is right. I can barely breathe, my heart pounding in my chest as I look at Ryu's small, frail form, so broken and weak.

Ryu's small, trembling hand reaches out, grasping the cloaked figure's extended hand. My breath catches in my throat as I watch him, too weak to stand on his own, using the figure's strength to pull himself to his feet. His legs tremble, barely supporting him, but there's something in the way he looks at the cloaked man—a mix of fear, desperation, and... something else.

The figure's grip is firm, unyielding, and as Ryu stumbles to his feet, I see a flicker of... pride in the man's dark eyes. The lightsaber is gone, but the menace in the air remains. The man regards Ryu with a strange mix of calmness and possession, as if this was always meant to be.

Nikko's small voice trembles beside me, her tear-filled eyes fixed on the cloaked figure. "That's... that's Papa's master," she says, her voice quaking with fear. "The one he told me about."

I can feel my heart racing in my chest, the weight of what's happening crashing down on me. This man... this man must be this mentor Ryu had mentioned to me. My mind flashes back to Ryu's pained expressions, the haunted look in his eyes whenever his past surfaced. I'd never heard him speak much about his master, but I remember the coldness in his voice when he did—the resentment, the lingering fear.

"He... he mentioned him," I whisper to myself, barely able to voice the realization.

I feel a shiver run through me, my stomach tightening as I watch the scene unfold. The memory... it's real. All of it. The pain, the fear, the cruelty. And that man... he's the one who started it all.

Before I can even begin to process the horror of what we've just witnessed, the ground beneath us starts to shake again. This time, it's more violent than before, the walls trembling as if the very world is tearing itself apart.

Nikko clings to my side, her ears flat, her voice rising in panic. "What's happening?!"

"I don't know!" I shout, my own panic rising as the room seems to warp and shift around us. The chains on the walls rattle, the bones on the floor scatter, and cracks begin to appear in the stone walls. Everything seems to be breaking apart, crumbling into nothingness.

Llamiryl whirls toward us, her voice strained but controlled. "The memory is ending! The dark presence has moved on, and I wasn't able to find it!"

The shaking grows worse, and the very floor beneath our feet starts to splinter. My heart is pounding, and I can barely hold on to Nikko as she grips me, her small body trembling. "What do we do?" I cry out, the noise around us deafening as the world breaks apart.

Llamiryl wastes no time. She waves her hand, and once again, the strange metallic door appears, hissing as it slides upward, the blinding light spilling into the chaos. "Quickly! We need to go! Now!"

I don't need to be told twice. Grabbing Nikko tightly, I sprint toward the door, my legs shaky as the ground beneath me cracks and shifts. The noise is deafening, the entire room dissolving into chaos around us.

Llamiryl steps through first, and I follow, practically dragging Nikko behind me. We leap through the door just as the world behind us collapses entirely, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I feel weightless, lost in the blinding light.

Then, suddenly, everything is still.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

I stumble forward into the endless hallway once again, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The cold, sterile walls stretch out in front of me, their gleaming metallic surfaces a stark contrast to the nightmare we've just left behind. Nikko clutches my arm, her small hands trembling, and I hold her close, trying to calm my own racing heart.

Llamiryl stands ahead of us, her posture steady, though her face is drawn with the weight of what we've just seen. She says nothing, but the tension in the air is palpable. The dark presence... it's still out there.

The cold, sterile silence of the hallway presses down on us, and the weight of everything we've just witnessed crashes over me like a tidal wave. My legs feel like they could give out at any moment, but I stand, holding Nikko close to my side. Her small body trembles against me, and I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

Then, without warning, she breaks down completely.

Nikko's small hands clutch at my tunic, her fingers digging into the fabric as if holding on for dear life. She buries her face in my chest, and I can feel the hot, wet tears soaking through the material as she sobs uncontrollably. Her body shakes violently with each sob, and I can feel her anguish, her fear, pouring out of her in waves.

I kneel down slowly, bringing her closer to me, my own heart aching at the sight of her in so much pain. Her small, fragile frame is wracked with sobs, and she grips me so tightly, as if she's afraid I might disappear if she lets go.

"It's okay, Nikko," I whisper, though the words feel empty. My voice wavers, betraying my own shaken state. "It's okay... it was just a memory." But the words don't seem to comfort her.

Her sobs come in short, ragged breaths, and she pulls away just enough to look up at me, her eyes red and swollen, her face streaked with tears. "That... that could have been me," she chokes out between sobs. "If it... if it weren't for Papa..."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I can't breathe. She's right. The horror we just witnessed—it's not so far from what she endured, what Ryu saved her from. And now, seeing this part of Ryu's past, seeing the agony he went through... it's almost too much to bear.

I swallow hard, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. I can't break down now. Nikko needs me.

I lower myself to her level, kneeling in front of her, and cup her small, tear-streaked face in my hands. "Nikko," I whisper, my voice gentle but firm, "you're safe now. You're here, with me, with Ryu... because he made sure of that. He saved you."

She sniffles, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, but the tears don't stop. Her shoulders are still shaking, and I pull her into a tight embrace, smoothing her hair down as she sobs into my shoulder.

I can feel my own body trembling. The images of Ryu, chained and broken, play over and over in my mind, and it's hard to push them away. But I have to stay strong—for her.

After a few long moments, I pull back just enough to look her in the eyes again, my hands still resting on her small shoulders. "Your Papa needs us now, Nikko," I say softly, my voice filled with as much strength as I can muster. "He's fighting something terrible, something dark, and he needs us to help him. We have to be strong for him, just like he's always been strong for us."

Nikko looks up at me, her wide eyes glistening with tears, but there's a spark of determination there too. Her lip quivers, but she nods, though the weight of everything is still heavy in her small frame.

"I got you," I whisper, my voice steady. "We're going to help him. I promise."

She nods again, more firmly this time, though her hands still clutch at my tunic as if afraid to let go completely.

Behind me, I hear a soft shuffle, and I glance up at Llamiryl. She's standing a short distance away, her arms crossed, her face impassive, but I can see it—the subtle tension in her posture, the slight crease in her brow. Even she is shaken by what we've just seen, though she's doing a far better job of hiding it than I am. For a brief moment, our eyes meet, and there's a flicker of understanding between us.

"We need to move forward," Llamiryl says, her voice calm, though there's a tightness to it that wasn't there before. "The dark presence is still out there... and Ryu's time is running short."

I nod, swallowing hard as I rise to my feet, keeping Nikko close to me. My heart still pounds in my chest, and the weight of what we've just seen lingers heavily in the air, but I know one thing for certain.

The moment we step through the door, I'm greeted by a cold, dry wind that sends a shiver down my spine. I blink, adjusting to the sudden shift in light and air. The sky above us is a strange, pale orange, streaked with thin clouds. The air feels sharp, carrying with it the scent of something ancient and desolate. Beneath our feet, the ground is hard, cracked, and dry, as if nothing has grown here for centuries. In the distance, tall, jagged stone spires rise toward the sky, their surfaces worn smooth by the endless wind. The entire landscape feels barren, lifeless... hostile.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

We're standing in what looks like a massive arena, carved from stone that's weathered by time. The walls stretch high around us, towering and ominous. The arena itself is a wide, flat space with a stone floor, scratched and scarred from countless battles. There's an ancient weight to this place, as though it has seen endless violence, and the echoes of those battles still linger in the air.

In the center of the arena, I see him.

Ryu.

He's standing there, dressed in black robes that that hug his tiny frame, his face set in a hard, focused expression. My heart tightens as I watch him move—quick, deliberate strikes, his small hands gripping a long staff as he parries and blocks his opponent's blows. He's young—far too young—and I suddenly realize he's the same age as Nikko. Seven years old. My breath catches in my throat at the thought.

But it's his opponent that catches my attention next—a strange, metallic being, taller than Ryu, moving with mechanical precision. It's humanoid in shape but entirely made of gleaming, cold metal. Its eyes glow faintly, and it wields a dueling staff, striking at Ryu with relentless efficiency. Each of its movements is calculated, deliberate, with no hesitation.

I glance over at Llamiryl, who's watching with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "What kind of being is that?" she asks quietly, her eyes narrowing at the metallic figure.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's... a droid," I say, the word feeling foreign on my tongue, though I remember Ryu once explaining it to me. "It's not alive. It's a machine, built to fight. To follow commands. They don't feel pain... they just keep going."

Llamiryl nods slowly, her expression thoughtful, but my focus shifts back to Ryu. He's fighting with everything he has, but it's clear he's struggling. His movements are slower now, and I can see the exhaustion on his face—the way his shoulders sag after every strike, the way he stumbles just a bit before regaining his footing. His face is bruised, his lip split, and a thin line of blood trickles down his temple.

I feel my stomach twist painfully. He's just a child... how could they do this to him?

The droid's attacks are relentless, and Ryu is barely keeping up. Each clang of the dueling staffs sends a sharp echo through the arena, and I wince every time Ryu misses a block, the staff coming dangerously close to striking him.

My heart pounds in my chest as I watch, my hands clenched tightly at my sides. Nikko, standing beside me, is silent, her eyes wide with fear. She can sense it too—something terrible is happening, and Ryu is losing.

And then it happens.

The droid strikes with a vicious blow, too fast for Ryu to block. The staff slams into his face with a sickening crack, and Ryu crumples to the ground. I hear Nikko gasp beside me, her small hand flying to her mouth as she watches in horror.

"Pathetic," a cold voice cuts through the air.

I turn sharply toward the source of the voice and see him—Ryu's master. He stands off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest, his dark cloak flowing around him. His hood is down, revealing his face—the same man from before. His beard is finely trimmed, and his eyes, sharp and calculating, are fixed on Ryu with a look of disappointment. The air around him feels heavy, oppressive, and I can feel the malice radiating from him.

Ryu groans, his small hands trembling as he tries to push himself off the ground. His face is bloodied, his lip swollen, but he refuses to stay down. I can see how much pain he's in, how hard he's pushing himself, and it breaks my heart to watch.

"You're too slow," the master says, his voice sharp and condescending. "Your form is weak. Your mind is clouded. Again."

I feel a surge of anger rise within me. How can he say that to Ryu? He's just a child! My heart aches at the sight of Ryu struggling to his feet, spitting out blood as he grips the staff tightly. The droid shows no mercy—it attacks again, and I can see the exhaustion in Ryu's every movement as he barely manages to block.

"Papa!" Nikko's voice suddenly rings out beside me, filled with panic and fear. Before I can react, she breaks free from my grasp and runs toward Ryu, her small figure darting across the arena.

"Nikko! No!" I shout, my heart leaping into my throat.

She reaches Ryu just as the droid swings its staff again, and she throws herself in front of him, arms outstretched as if to shield him. But the staff passes right through her, striking Ryu full force and sending him crashing to the ground again.

Nikko stares, horrified, her eyes wide with shock and tears starting to well up. "Stop it!" she cries, turning to Ryu's master, her voice trembling. "Stop it! He's hurt! He can't fight anymore!"

The master doesn't even acknowledge her. His eyes remain fixed on Ryu, cold and unfeeling. "Again," he says, his voice like ice.

Nikko's small fists clench at her sides, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please!" she sobs, her voice breaking. "Please... stop..."

I run to her, pulling her into my arms as she shakes uncontrollably. "Nikko," I whisper, my voice cracking as I try to calm her. "This is a memory. We can't change it. We're just... observers."

She sobs into my shoulder, her small body trembling as she clings to me, her heart breaking at the sight of Ryu suffering.

Llamiryl steps forward, her expression grim. "The dark presence isn't here," she says, her voice quiet but laced with frustration. "We need to move on."

With a wave of her hand, she summons another door, the strange metallic door sliding upward with a hiss. Blinding light spills through, illuminating the harsh arena.

I take one last look at Ryu, my heart heavy with sorrow. He's still struggling to stand, his face bruised and bloodied, but I know we can't stay. We have to keep moving.

I pull Nikko close as we step through the door, leaving the nightmare behind.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

As we step through the door, the air shifts again, and I feel the weight of this new place settle around me like a thick, oppressive blanket. The atmosphere is different here—heavier, colder, and filled with an ancient energy that hums in the background. We find ourselves in a small, dimly lit chamber, the stone walls carved with intricate patterns, their dark surfaces worn smooth by time. The room feels... old, like it has been here for millennia, untouched by the outside world.

In the center of the chamber, Ryu sits cross-legged, his young face still marked with healing bruises from his earlier duel. His eyes are closed, his expression focused, and his hands rest gently on his knees as he meditates. There's a stillness about him, a sense of deep concentration, but beneath that calm exterior, I can see the strain—the effort it takes for him to maintain this posture, this focus.

Floating in the air before him is a strange object—a puzzle, or at least, it seems like one. It's made up of several intricate pieces, each one a different shape and size, all carved from the same dark metal. The pieces hover in mid-air, slowly rotating around each other in a delicate, almost hypnotic dance. The puzzle is complex, its surfaces covered in small, alien symbols that seem to shift and change as the pieces move. The way they float, the way they interact... it's clear that this is no ordinary puzzle. There's something about it—something that feels... alive, like it's connected to the energy of this place.

I watch in awe, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight. Nikko stands beside me, her wide eyes fixed on Ryu, while Llamiryl's gaze sharpens as she takes in every detail of the scene. There's a palpable tension in the air, a sense that something is happening, something far beyond our understanding.

"Focus, Ryu," a voice commands, and I turn to see Ryu's master standing near the edge of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, his cold gaze fixed on the boy. "Let the Force flow through you," he continues, his voice calm, but with an undercurrent of sternness.

I glance at Ryu, watching as his brow furrows slightly, the strain of concentration etched across his face. The pieces of the puzzle begin to tremble, wobbling in the air as if they're struggling to maintain their balance.

"The Force is like a calm river," the master says, his tone slow and deliberate. "It flows smoothly, effortlessly. You must allow it to guide you, to move through you."

But Ryu is struggling. His breathing quickens, his hands twitch slightly, and the pieces of the puzzle begin to shake more violently. For a moment, it looks as if he's about to regain control, but then, with a soft clatter, the pieces fall apart, dropping to the stone floor with a dull thud.

Ryu lets out a soft sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat. His head hangs low, and I can feel his frustration from where I stand.

"Pathetic," the master's voice cuts through the chamber like a blade. I wince at the coldness in his tone, my heart aching as I watch Ryu shrink under his master's disapproval.

"You are too rigid," the master says, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing at Ryu. "Your mind is clouded with doubt, with fear. The Force cannot flow through you if you are blocking it with your weakness."

Ryu says nothing, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, his breathing shallow. I can see the pain in his eyes, the desperation to please, but he's... trapped. Trapped in this cycle of failure.

"You are not leaving this chamber," the master continues, his voice low and unforgiving, "until you do the puzzle correctly. Again."

I feel my stomach twist as I watch Ryu straighten up, his small body trembling as he prepares to try again. The puzzle pieces rise slowly from the floor, floating unsteadily in the air before him. I can see the effort it's taking him, the strain in his face, the way his hands tremble.

"It's too much for him," Nikko whispers beside me, her voice small and filled with worry. She grips my hand tightly, her eyes locked on her Papa as he struggles. "Why is he making him do this?"

"I don't know," I murmur, my heart aching as I watch Ryu. "He's... so young."

Llamiryl, standing beside us, watches with a critical gaze. "He is pushing Ryu to his limits," she says softly, though there's an edge to her voice, a hint of disapproval. "It is cruel... and unnecessary."

The puzzle pieces continue to rise, but they're shaking, unstable, as if they're on the verge of falling apart again. I hold my breath, hoping—praying—that Ryu will succeed, that he'll find the strength to complete the task. But then, just as the pieces seem to align, they collapse again, crashing to the ground with a final, echoing thud.

Ryu lowers his head, his breath ragged, and I can see the tears welling up in his eyes. But his master says nothing this time. He simply stands there, his gaze cold and unfeeling. The silence in the chamber is suffocating, heavy with the weight of Ryu's failure.

"He's hurting," Nikko whispers, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why won't he stop?"

I squeeze her hand, trying to hold back my own tears. "I don't know, Nikko. I don't know."

Llamiryl, her expression grim, steps forward. "The dark presence isn't here," she says quietly, her voice cutting through the silence. With a wave of her hand, she summons another door, the now-familiar metallic design hissing open, revealing the blinding light beyond.

Without a word, I guide Nikko through the door, leaving the memory behind, though the weight of it lingers in my chest.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

Memory after memory, we move forward, stepping through door after door, but each time, the Shadowfell slips away, eluding us just as we get close. The hallway stretches on endlessly, its cold, metallic walls gleaming as we pass through, the air heavy with the weight of Ryu's memories. Each one is a glimpse into his past, a fragment of the pain and struggle he endured. And each one twists my heart a little more.

We step into the next memory, and I find myself in a dimly lit room lined with shelves, each one overflowing with old, worn books and scrolls. The air is thick with the scent of ancient paper and dust. In the center of the room, a young Ryu—perhaps eight or nine years old—sits hunched over a table, his brow furrowed in concentration. Before him are several old texts, their pages covered in strange symbols I don't recognize. Some of the books bear a symbol that seems... holy. The others have a different mark—a dark, foreboding one that sends a chill down my spine.

I notice small, pyramid-like objects scattered across the table as well—glowing faintly in the dim light. Ryu's fingers brush over them delicately as if he's reading something from within their glow. I have no idea what they are, but they feel... powerful. Dangerous, even.

"What is he reading?" Nikko asks, her voice soft, as she watches her Papa with wide eyes.

"I don't know," I admit, stepping closer, my gaze flicking between the strange texts and the glowing objects. "But whatever it is... it's important. He's learning."

Llamiryl steps forward, her eyes narrowing at the symbols on the books. "These markings," she mutters, her tone thoughtful. "They hold great power. It seems Ryu's master is teaching him things far beyond just combat."

Nikko clings to my side, her brow furrowed in concern. "Why... why is he doing this? What's in those books?"

I shake my head, unable to answer. The weight of the memory presses down on me, and I can feel the strain on Ryu, even here. He's learning so much, absorbing it all, but the darkness that surrounds him... it grows with every page he turns.

Before I can process it further, the scene shifts again.

We find ourselves back in the same small chamber from earlier, the same puzzle pieces floating before Ryu as he sits in his meditative pose. He's older now, perhaps nine, and though the bruises from before are gone, there's a new focus in his eyes, a deeper determination. The puzzle pieces hover more steadily this time, their strange, angular shapes rotating in midair, clicking together slowly as Ryu works to solve the complex structure.

He's gotten better. His movements are more controlled, his focus sharper. I can see the progress he's made—how much he's grown since that first attempt. The pieces tremble only slightly as they align themselves, forming a shape I still can't quite understand.

"Look," Nikko whispers, her voice filled with awe. "He's doing it. He's getting better."

I nod, feeling a strange mix of pride and sorrow as I watch him. "Yes... he is."

But then, just as the final piece is about to click into place, the puzzle wavers. Ryu's face tightens with strain, his brow furrowing as he tries to hold it together. The pieces shake... then fall, clattering to the ground once again.

Ryu lets out a frustrated sigh, his shoulders slumping. His hands tremble slightly, and I can see the exhaustion in his eyes. He's so close, but still... he can't quite grasp it.

His master stands in the corner, watching silently. He doesn't speak, but the look on his face says it all—disappointment, cold and unyielding. The air is thick with it, and I can feel the weight of Ryu's failure pressing down on him.

Llamiryl, standing beside me, crosses her arms, her expression unreadable. "He's pushing himself too hard," she mutters, her voice low. "But that's exactly what his master wants."

I don't respond, my heart aching for Ryu as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before trying again. The pieces rise into the air once more, but this time, I can see the tremor in his hands, the strain in his face. He's tired—so tired—and yet, he refuses to give up.

"Papa..." Nikko whispers, her voice barely audible.

But once again, the pieces fall apart.

The memory shifts again, and we find ourselves back in the arena, the same ancient stone walls looming over us like silent sentinels. Ryu is older now—ten, it seems—and the bruises are gone, replaced with a quiet confidence. He's dueling the same droid as before, but this time, there's a difference. He's faster, more controlled. His movements are precise, his strikes deliberate. I watch in awe as he parries the droid's attacks with ease, his dueling staff moving in smooth, practiced arcs.

He's improved so much. Every strike, every block is sharper, more refined. The droid attacks relentlessly, but Ryu is holding his own, his small body moving with a grace that I hadn't seen before. It's as if he's finally found his rhythm, finally learned how to tap into the power that's been growing inside him all this time.

"Look at him," I whisper, my heart swelling with pride. "He's doing it. He's winning."

Nikko's eyes are wide with awe as she watches her Papa fight, her small hand gripping mine tightly. "He's... so strong."

Llamiryl's gaze sharpens, watching every movement with a critical eye. "He's come a long way," she says softly, her tone almost impressed.

And then, with one final strike, Ryu disarms the droid, sending its staff clattering to the ground. The droid stumbles back, its mechanical limbs twitching as it tries to regain its balance, but it's too late. Ryu has won.

He stands there, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. He looks over at his master, his eyes filled with a quiet pride, hoping—perhaps—for a word of praise, a sign that he's finally earned his approval.

But the master's expression remains cold, unmoved.

"Sloppy," he says, his voice sharp and cutting. "Your form was weak. Your footwork was slow. You left yourself open to attack too many times."

Ryu's face falls slightly, the pride in his eyes dimming as he listens to the criticism. His shoulders slump just a fraction, but he doesn't argue. He simply nods, accepting the harsh words without question.

"Again," the master commands, his voice cold and unfeeling.

Ryu straightens up, gripping the dueling staff tightly in his hands, preparing to start the fight all over again. There's no rest, no moment of triumph—only the constant push to be better, to be perfect.

My heart aches as I watch him, the weight of it all pressing down on me. He's just a child, forced to grow up too fast, to bear the burden of expectations no child should ever have to face.

Nikko tugs on my sleeve, her voice trembling. "Why... why can't he stop? He won... didn't he?"

I shake my head, unable to find the words to explain it. "I don't know, Nikko. I don't know."

Llamiryl steps forward, her expression grim. "The dark presence isn't here," she says quietly. With a wave of her hand, she summons another door, the now-familiar metallic design hissing open, revealing the blinding light beyond.

Without a word, I guide Nikko through the door, leaving the memory behind, though the weight of it lingers in my chest.

⚔⚔⚔⚔⚔

The hallway stretches out before us once again, its cold, metallic walls gleaming under the dim light. But this time, something feels different. The air is thicker, heavier, pressing down on me with a weight that's hard to shake. I take a slow breath, trying to steady myself, but the images of Ryu—young, bruised, pushed to his breaking point—linger at the edges of my mind. My chest tightens at the thought of him, at what he's endured, and the fear of what's still to come gnaws at me.

We've been chasing the Shadowfell through Ryu's memories, but every time, it slips away. It's like trying to catch smoke with our bare hands. I can feel its presence, lurking just out of reach, watching us with a twisted satisfaction. The thought of it, of what it could do to Ryu, makes my stomach turn.

What if... what if we can't find it in time? What if it consumes him completely? The idea of Ryu being lost, his mind overtaken by that dark, malevolent force—it sends a shiver down my spine. I glance down at Nikko, her small hand still clutching mine, her wide eyes filled with worry. For her sake, for Ryu's sake, I have to stay strong. I have to keep moving forward.

But then, something shifts.

The air grows colder, and the light around us seems to dim. My heart skips a beat, and I freeze in place, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I know what's coming. I can feel it.

And then I hear it.

A voice—low, ancient, and crawling with malice—seeps into my mind, slithering through my thoughts like a venomous snake. It's not just a voice. It's a presence, cold and oppressive, wrapping itself around me, sinking its claws into the deepest parts of my mind.

"Ah... the brave Talia," it whispers, its tone dripping with mockery. "So determined, so noble. Yet, beneath that resolve, I see it... the fear. The doubt."

My head throbs suddenly, a sharp, piercing pain spreading from my temples. I wince, clenching my teeth as I try to push the voice away, but it's like trying to hold back a storm. The pressure in my skull builds, growing more intense with every word it speaks.

"You think you can save him, don't you? You think your love will shield him from the darkness. But you know... deep down, you know... you are powerless." The voice twists around me, each word like a dagger, finding the most vulnerable parts of me. "You couldn't save him before. You stood by, helpless, while he suffered. And now... now you think you can stop me?"

I stumble slightly, my vision blurring as the pain in my head intensifies. My knees feel weak, my pulse pounding in my ears. I clutch Nikko's hand tighter, though my grip falters as the weight of the voice bears down on me.

"He was broken long before I came, Talia. You know this. You've seen the cracks in his soul. I am merely... the inevitable. You cannot stop what has already begun."

The pain spikes again, sharper this time, and I let out a soft gasp. It's not just in my mind anymore—it's physical, coursing through my body, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. I glance at Nikko, and I can see it in her eyes—the same pain, the same fear. Llamiryl stands rigid beside us, her face tight with strain, her hand pressing against her temple as if she too is fighting against the pressure.

But the voice doesn't stop. It presses on, relentless, each word digging deeper into my mind, tearing at the fragile barriers I've tried to build.

"And what will you do when he turns on you? When the darkness finally consumes him? Will you watch him destroy everything you hold dear, just as he has been destroyed? Will you stand by, helpless, as you always have?"

A wave of nausea rolls over me, the pain in my head reaching a blinding crescendo. I want to scream, to push it out, but I can't. The words coil around my heart, squeezing tighter, suffocating me with their cruel truth.

"You can't save him, Talia. You've never been able to."

My legs buckle, and I fall to one knee, gasping for air as the voice echoes through my mind, louder, darker, more consuming than before. The hallway around us seems to warp, the walls bending and twisting as if they're reacting to the voice, to the Shadowfell's presence.

My vision blurs again, and I struggle to focus, to keep myself grounded. I can feel Nikko trembling beside me, her small body wracked with the same pain, the same overwhelming fear.

The voice laughs, a dark, hollow sound that reverberates through the air, sending a fresh wave of pain through my skull.

And just as quickly as it began, the voice fades, slipping away like smoke on the wind. The pain lingers, throbbing in my head, but the pressure eases slightly, enough for me to stand without stumbling. I look at Nikko, her tear-filled eyes reflecting the same agony I feel, and I pull her close, holding her tightly as the fear and pain still cling to us both.

Llamiryl exhales sharply, her hand still pressed against her temple, her eyes narrowing with frustration. "It's... toying with us," she mutters, her voice low and tense. "We have to find it. Quickly."

I nod, though my heart is still racing, my head still pounding with the remnants of the Shadowfell's words. We have to keep moving. We have to find it... before it's too late.