The darkness swallowed Marcus whole. It wasn't the absence of light — it was something far worse. A cold, suffocating void that pressed against his skin and filled his lungs like water. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
But he could hear.
A whisper, soft and distant, like wind through dead leaves. Open the gate…
Then a voice, sharp and familiar. Emily's voice. "Marcus! Don't trust him!"
His heart thundered. He tried to call out, but the darkness crushed his words. And then —
A single, blinding flash of light.
Marcus hit the ground hard, coughing and gasping for air. The cold stone scraped against his palms as he pushed himself up.
He was no longer in the chamber.
This new space stretched endlessly, a vast, desolate expanse of black stone and silver mist. Jagged spires rose from the ground like broken teeth. And above them, the sky churned — a swirl of dark clouds and strange, shifting shapes.
"Welcome to the Threshold," Vale's voice echoed behind him.
Marcus spun, his fists clenching. Vale stood at the edge of the mist, his dark coat blending into the shadows. But something was different now. The air around him shimmered, and his eyes — once sharp and human — glowed with an unnatural light.
"Where's Emily?" Marcus demanded.
"She's safe," Vale said. "For now."
Marcus took a step forward. "If you hurt her—"
"Your threats are meaningless here," Vale interrupted, his voice cold. "You made a promise, Marcus. Now it's time to keep it."
Before Marcus could respond, the ground beneath his feet shifted. A low rumble spread through the stone, and the mist began to rise.
Shapes moved within it. Twisting, distorted figures — too thin, too long — their eyes glowing with the same light as Vale's.
"What… what are they?" Marcus whispered.
"Shadows," Vale said. "Fragments of the illusion you broke. And they're very… hungry."
The first shape lunged.
Marcus barely had time to react. He dove aside as the creature's claws raked the stone where he'd stood. It moved fast — too fast — a blur of shadow and teeth.
Another attacked from the side. Marcus twisted, narrowly avoiding its strike, but pain flared as its claws grazed his arm.
"Fight them," Vale commanded. "Or be consumed."
Marcus's vision blurred. The air grew colder, the shapes closing in. But then —
Emily.
He couldn't die here. Not yet.
The next shadow leapt — and Marcus struck.
His fist connected with surprising force, and the creature dissolved into mist with a shriek. But there were more. So many more.
"Good," Vale murmured. "But it won't be enough."
The mist thickened, the shadows circling. Marcus fought — dodging, striking, enduring — but the cold sapped his strength, and his vision dimmed.
Then he heard it.
A soft, familiar voice.
"Marcus…"
Emily's voice.
He turned — and the shadows attacked.
Pain exploded through his body. He fell to his knees, the world spinning. The mist closed in — and then he saw her.
Emily stood at the edge of the mist, her eyes wide and pleading. "Marcus, you have to wake up!"
"I… I'm here…" he whispered, reaching for her.
"Wake up!" she screamed.
The ground cracked beneath him.
And the world shattered.