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The shift wasn't smooth this time.
Ethan didn't step through — he fell. The air around him twisted, colors bleeding together until the world slammed back into focus. His boots hit hard ice. He caught himself with a low grunt, breath misting in the cold.
Silence.
He looked around, squinting through the haze. Frost. Everywhere. The walls shimmered faintly in the pale blue light, veins of ice running deep into the rock. The air bit at his skin, sharp and dry.
He knew this place.
"...You've gotta be kidding me," he muttered.
The cavern stretched out before him, vast and still. Every sound — even his own breathing — felt too loud. This was it. The frozen chamber. The place where that thing — whatever it was — had appeared before.
Only this time, it was empty.
He walked forward slowly, eyes following the faint cracks spiderwebbed across the floor. The glow from within them pulsed weakly, like a dying ember that refused to go out. The memory came back sharp: that blinding sphere of light, the pressure in his chest, the way the air had watched him.
Now, there was only stillness.
Ethan crouched, brushing his fingers over the frost. The cold bit through his gloves. "Still here, huh?" he said softly. "Guess you didn't vanish completely."
The pendant hanging from his neck flickered — a faint golden shimmer pulsing once before fading. He frowned, lifting it to eye level. It hadn't reacted like that before.
"Great. You too."
He let the pendant fall back against his chest and stood. The whole chamber felt wrong — not dangerous, but… waiting. Like the world was holding its breath.
Somewhere in the dark, ice cracked. Once. Twice. Then again, closer.
Ethan froze. His hand went to the dagger at his hip, drawing it in one smooth motion. The sound echoed, swallowed almost instantly by the cavern's still air.
Another sharp crack split the quiet. A sheet of frost along the left wall fractured outward, shards scattering across the ground like glass. Beneath it, light pulsed — a dim, throbbing blue.
Ethan took a step back, eyes narrowing.
The glow spread, crawling across the ground in jagged veins. The vibration beneath his boots grew stronger. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.
The cracks all converged in the center of the room — the same spot where that entity had appeared last time. The light flared, brighter and brighter, until he had to shield his eyes.
When it finally dimmed, a shape was standing there.
Faint. Translucent. Like a person made of smoke and moonlight.
Ethan's stomach turned. He gripped the dagger tighter. "You again?"
The figure didn't move. It just stood there, flickering faintly, its head tilted as if it were trying to remember what a human shape was supposed to look like.
Then, a voice — not sound, not words. It crawled straight into his mind.
"...The bridge has weakened."
Ethan blinked. "The bridge?" He took a cautious step closer. "You mean between the worlds?"
The air trembled.
"It thins. The thread frays."
The figure's outline flickered, its light breaking apart in places. Ethan's voice dropped lower. "Why me? Why bring me back here?"
The thing didn't answer right away. It tilted its head, and though it had no face, he could feel its gaze.
"Because you remember."
Ethan's breath hitched. "Remember what?"
The light flared again — then cracked apart like glass under heat.
"Find… the source…"
And then it was gone.
No explosion. No sound. Just gone.
The only thing left was the fading glow of the ice and the slow drip of water somewhere in the dark.
Ethan stood still for a while, listening to his heartbeat, trying to slow it down. "Perfect," he muttered finally. "Cryptic ghost messages. Just what I needed."
He sheathed his dagger and crouched again, staring at the cracked floor. The faint light beneath it pulsed one last time, like a heartbeat fading away.
"Find the source," he repeated quietly. "Sure. I'll get right on that."
The ceiling stretched high above, glittering faintly with frost. Somewhere far above, the surface world waited — silent, frozen in time. He wondered if Samantha's coffee was still warm, if the city lights were still glowing mid-blink.
Didn't matter. Not now.
He turned toward the narrow tunnel leading deeper into the Dungeon. The air that came from it was warm and damp — strange, considering where he stood. Another bad sign.
He slung the bag over his shoulder and started walking. His steps echoed faintly, fading quick in the dark.
When he reached the edge of the light, something brushed against the back of his mind — a whisper that wasn't his own.
"He is awake."
Ethan stopped dead. He turned sharply, scanning the chamber behind him. Nothing. Just blue frost and silence.
He exhaled, long and low, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fantastic," he muttered. "The universe just keeps getting better."
He adjusted his grip on the dagger and stepped into the tunnel. The darkness swallowed him whole, the faint glow of the frozen chamber fading behind him until it was gone.
The hunt had begun again.
---
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