The Road to Ruin

The night was cold. Not the kind that bit at the skin, but the kind that settled deep in the bones, making the world feel hollow.

Kael adjusted the strap on his shoulder, glancing toward Ronan, who was unusually quiet. Their new "ally" stood ahead of them, back turned, waiting. The stranger had made it clear—this was their only shot at learning the truth.

And truth was exactly what they needed.

Still, unease prickled at Kael's instincts. Something about this was wrong. He could feel it in the way the air seemed heavier, in the way the city behind them felt distant, unreal.

The stranger finally spoke without looking back. "The place we're going to—there's a reason the organization avoids it."

"Yeah?" Ronan exhaled, flexing his fingers. "And here I was hoping for a pleasant stroll."

Kael didn't laugh. He didn't like how carefully the stranger chose their words.

Without another word, they left the safe house behind.

The city's outskirts stretched around them, filled with rusted structures and half-collapsed roads. The deeper they went, the quieter everything became.

No wind. No animals. No signs of life.

Kael's fingers twitched toward his dagger more than once, but there was nothing out here. Just ruins and silence.

The stranger, however, seemed at ease. They glanced back at Ronan and Kael with mild amusement. "How much do you actually know about Dominions?"

Ronan rolled his shoulders. "Enough to survive."

The stranger hummed. "Survival isn't knowledge."

Kael's gaze sharpened. "And you're here to fix that?"

"Fix?" The stranger smiled, as if the idea was absurd. "No. I'm here to see if you can handle knowing more."

Kael didn't like that answer. But before he could question them, Ronan spoke up, his voice quieter than usual.

"… What happens to the ones who can't?"

The stranger's smile lingered. "They break."

No one spoke after that.

Eventually, the ruins gave way to an old, unnatural-looking path—one Kael was certain hadn't existed before.

The edges of the road blurred, like the world around them was subtly shifting, unable to decide whether it was real or not.

Kael stopped. "Where the hell are we?"

The stranger glanced back, expression unreadable. Then they raised a hand, gesturing at the path ahead. "Once we step forward, there's no turning back."

Ronan smirked. "Yeah, yeah. You love your ominous warnings."

But Kael wasn't laughing. Every part of him screamed that this place was wrong.

And yet, his feet moved forward.

As they walked, Kael felt it.

Something watching.

He clenched his jaw, muscles tensing as his eyes scanned the empty landscape. There was nothing. No movement, no figures, just endless ruin.

But the feeling didn't go away.

The stranger tilted their head slightly, observing Kael. Then, with mild amusement, they said: "You're more sensitive than most."

Kael's hands curled into fists. "That's not an answer."

The stranger just kept walking.

The silence was shattered.

A sound—low, dragging—echoed from the ruins ahead. Something was moving.

Kael's breath slowed as he locked onto the shifting shapes in the distance. Not people. Not quite.

Their forms were wrong. Distorted, incomplete. Like they were never supposed to exist in this world.

The stranger clicked their tongue. "Well… that's inconvenient."

Kael drew his dagger.

Ronan cracked his neck, grinning. "Alright. What the hell are we looking at?"

The stranger watched the figures approach, eyes unreadable. "Echoes."

Kael's grip tightened. "Of what?"

The stranger only smirked. "Of something that never should've been."

Kael's mark burned.

It wasn't pain. It was something else.

A pull.

Like the figures in the distance weren't just approaching—they were responding to him.

The stranger watched with knowing eyes. "Looks like it's starting."

Kael exhaled, steadying himself. His gut told him whatever was about to happen, it wouldn't be normal.

He wasn't ready.

But it didn't matter.

Because the unknown was already here.