The Fracture Deepens

Ethan didn't return to bed. He stayed downstairs, staring at the ashes of the burned newspaper, his mind restless. The house was silent again, but the tension lingered in the air like an unspoken threat.

Anna had seen too much.

She was afraid of him now.

That meant she was a problem.

Ethan pushed the thought away, shaking his head. No. Not yet.

Instead, he turned his focus back to the shadows, letting his breathing slow, reaching out with his mind. The darkness responded eagerly, curling toward him, whispering in voices he could almost understand.

He was getting stronger.

But it wasn't enough.

He needed more.

The Nightmare

At some point, exhaustion caught up with him, and he drifted into a fitful sleep on the couch.

Then, the dream came.

Ethan stood in a vast, ruined city under a sky that churned with smoke and fire. The air was thick with the stench of decay, the streets littered with corpses—human, inhuman, divine. Monstrous shapes loomed in the distance, shifting unnaturally, their forms twisting like something that refused to obey the laws of existence.

And in the center of it all, something waited for him.

A throne of writhing shadows.

Ethan stepped forward, drawn to it, his feet moving without his command. The whispers in his mind grew louder, layering over each other, overlapping, rising into a chaotic symphony of voices.

One stood out.

"Sit."

His body obeyed before his mind could catch up. The moment he touched the throne, the shadows surged around him, wrapping around his limbs, his throat, his face.

They were consuming him.

He tried to move, to break free, but they held him in place, tightening like a noose. The darkness pressed into him, through him, rewriting something deep inside.

Then—pain.

A searing, unbearable agony tore through his chest, like something was being ripped out of him. He gasped, choking on his own breath, his vision tunneling into absolute blackness.

And then he saw it.

A reflection of himself, standing in the distance, watching.

But it wasn't him.

Its eyes were hollow. Its face, expressionless. It had no humanity left.

And it smiled.

Waking Darkness

Ethan bolted upright with a sharp gasp, sweat clinging to his skin. His breath came in ragged pants, his heart hammering violently.

For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was.

Then he saw the dim glow of the kitchen light, the silent house, the familiar walls.

But something was wrong.

The room was darker than it should have been.

Not just because it was night.

The shadows had deepened.

They clung to the corners unnaturally, stretched along the floor like oil, seething with a slow, pulsing motion. Ethan exhaled shakily, and they recoiled—just slightly—before settling once more.

They were watching.

Waiting.

Something had changed.

Something had woken up inside him.

A New Urgency

By the time morning came, Ethan knew one thing for certain—he needed answers.

He wasn't just changing anymore. He was becoming something else. And if he didn't understand what was happening, he would lose control.

Noah might have suspicions. Daniel definitely saw things no one else could.

But there was someone else.

Someone who had always known more than he should.

Father Callahan.

Ethan had avoided the old priest for years, dismissing his ramblings about the return of the old world and the things that walked unseen. But now…

Now, Ethan needed to know what the priest really believed.

He needed to know if Callahan had answers about what was happening to him.

A Meeting with the Priest

Ethan arrived at St. Augustine's Church just before noon. The place was mostly empty, save for a few elderly worshippers scattered in the pews. The scent of burning candles and old wood filled the air, and the sound of distant murmured prayers echoed through the cavernous space.

Callahan was exactly where Ethan expected—standing near the altar, adjusting the cloth of his vestments, lost in thought. The priest was an older man, his hair silvered with age, his eyes sharp despite the lines on his face.

He noticed Ethan the moment he stepped inside.

"Ethan Carter." Callahan's voice was calm but laced with something deeper. Recognition. As if he had been waiting for him.

Ethan walked down the aisle, stopping just a few feet from the priest. "I need to talk to you."

Callahan studied him for a long moment, his gaze piercing.

"You've seen it, haven't you?"

Ethan stiffened. "Seen what?"

Callahan tilted his head slightly. "The world shifting. The veil thinning. You've felt it in your bones, haven't you?" He exhaled slowly. "You are changing."

Ethan's mouth went dry.

"How do you know that?"

Callahan's gaze darkened. "Because it has happened before."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken things.

Ethan clenched his fists. "What's happening to me?"

The priest hesitated, then spoke carefully. "The world is not as it once was. The gods of old, the ones who warred and fell, left their marks upon existence. Some things survived. Fragments of their power. Pieces of their essence."

He stepped closer. "And sometimes… those pieces find a home."

Ethan's stomach twisted.

"You mean inside people."

Callahan nodded. "Not just anyone. The ones who are chosen. The ones who inherit what was left behind."

Ethan inhaled sharply. "You're saying I'm—"

"You are becoming something," Callahan interrupted. His voice was grave. "And whatever it is… it is ancient."

Ethan felt his pulse quicken.

The throne of shadows.

The whispers.

The thing in his dream that had worn his face.

"Is there a way to stop it?" he asked, forcing his voice to stay steady.

Callahan studied him for a long time, then sighed.

"There is always a way."

Hope flickered in Ethan's chest. "Then tell me—"

"But you won't take it," Callahan said quietly.

Ethan froze.

The priest's eyes locked onto his. "Because I see it in you. You don't want to stop, Ethan. Not really."

Ethan's blood ran cold.

Because Callahan was right.

He wanted answers. He wanted control.

But did he really want to stop?

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truth.

Then Callahan whispered something that sent a chill through Ethan's bones.

"There is still time to turn back." The priest's voice was almost pleading. "But soon, there won't be."

Ethan turned without a word and walked out of the church.

His mind was racing. His heart was steady.

And the shadows at his feet followed him eagerly.