The Door That Should Not Open

"Mikhailis," she whispered, concern etched across her face. "Talk to me."

But words wouldn't come. All he could do was let out a broken exhale, bracing himself against the door to keep from collapsing. The runes on its surface glowed brighter now, matching the frenzied pulse of his heartbeat. Warmth radiated from the stone—unnatural, alive.

Rhea took a tentative step forward. "What's happening to him?"

Lira shook her head, lips pressed thin. "I don't know." She looked at Mikhailis's face, worry evident in her dark eyes. "He's been having these visions more and more often."

He heard them, but only distantly. His entire focus was locked onto the rush of images unfurling inside his head. He saw flashes of a battlefield at night, the moon obscured by swirling mist. Armed figures clashed in the distance, but the scene blurred as if he was viewing it through storm clouds.