Chapter 8 — When the Sky Opens
The ground shook again.
Kael staggered as sand slid away from the ruins, pouring into cracks that hadn't been there a moment ago. He looked up.
The dark circle in the sky was opening.
Not splitting. Not breaking.
Opening—like an eye.
A thin line of black widened, and something behind it moved. Not coming out. Just shifting, like it was adjusting its focus.
"Yeah," Kael said. "I see you."
The air grew heavy. Breathing took effort now, like every breath had to be approved first.
The ruins behind him creaked.
Stone peeled away from one of the pillars and floated upward, slow and smooth. More followed. Small pieces at first, then larger ones, rising toward the sky-eye as if pulled by a silent tide.
Kael backed away. "I really don't like this part."
The sand under his feet hardened again. He felt it—clear this time. The ground wasn't just reacting.
It was choosing.
A low sound rolled across the plain. Not thunder. More like something clearing its throat.
Text appeared, short and plain.
> SECOND TRIAL: PROXIMITY
"Proximity to what?" Kael asked.
He got his answer fast.
The sky-eye widened further, and something fell out.
Not dropped.
Released.
It hit the ground far off in the distance, sending a dull shock through the plain. Sand jumped. The ruins rattled.
Whatever it was, it stayed still.
For a few seconds.
Then it stood.
Tall. Too tall. A long shape, blurred at the edges, like the world couldn't decide where it ended. It didn't rush. It didn't roar.
It turned its head.
Kael felt it look at him.
His teeth clenched on their own. His hands shook. Not fear exactly—more like his body remembering something bad before his mind caught up.
"Nope," he said. "Not walking toward that."
The ground behind him cracked.
Not in front. Not to the sides.
Behind.
Kael spun as the sand dropped away, forming a shallow slope that pointed straight at the thing in the distance. The terrain wasn't blocking him anymore.
It was guiding him.
He laughed once, short and sharp. "Figures."
He started walking.
Each step felt heavier than the last, like the air itself was pushing back. The thing ahead didn't move. It waited.
Halfway there, the pressure doubled.
Kael stumbled, caught himself, and kept going. His chest burned. His legs screamed.
"Is this it?" he said between breaths. "You just want to see how close I get before I break?"
The thing ahead shifted.
Not closer.
Clearer.
Its shape sharpened, and Kael could finally make it out—no face, no arms, just a tall body made of layered shadow, edges rippling like heat.
The pressure peaked.
Kael dropped to one knee.
The ground screamed.
Not sound—feeling. The plain vibrated, like it was under strain just having him here.
He pushed himself up anyway.
"One more step," he said. "Then we'll see."
He took it.
The world flinched.
The shadow-thing leaned down, not looming, just curious.
And for the first time since this started, Kael felt something else mixed in with the pressure.
Interest.
The text appeared again, flickering.
> DISTANCE THRESHOLD MET
RESPONSE: PENDING
The sky-eye pulsed.
And something answered back from inside Kael.