The streets near East Wall were nothing like the rest of the city.
Here, everything felt… forgotten. Buildings hunched over like tired old men, windows hollow and black. Graffiti peeled from the walls like skin flaking off a dead thing. Even the rain didn't fall the same—it came in sheets, angry and metallic, like it hated touching this part of town.
Kael stood beneath the broken arch of the old library, his hood pulled low and his breath fogging in the cold. His heart hadn't stopped racing since the arcade. The mark on his palm pulsed like a heartbeat that wasn't his.
The others arrived one by one.
Mace came first, dual batons strapped to his back like he thought this was a post-apocalyptic raid. Juno followed close behind, soaked but calm, hands stuffed in the pockets of his long coat. Rin showed up last, eyes sharp, a small flashlight clenched between her fingers and a black journal tucked beneath her arm.
They didn't speak.
Didn't have to.
The library's doors groaned open with a sound like metal screaming.
Inside, the air was thick with mildew and time. Shelves towered like gravestones, crooked and sagging, many empty or burned. The floor creaked beneath their feet, dust rising with every step. Faint moonlight filtered through the broken windows, painting shadows that looked like figures lurking just out of reach.
Kael's eyes were drawn to the far end of the room. There—behind a collapsed shelf and a rusted chandelier—stood a door. Old. Iron. Covered in markings that seemed to slither under his gaze.
"That's it," Rin said, voice low. "The Keeper's Vault."
Mace rolled his eyes. "Of course it's called that."
Juno crouched near the door, brushing debris aside. "There's no handle. Just this…"
A circle carved into the center. Five runes surrounding it. And in the middle—a blank space.
Kael stepped forward, hand raised before he even realized what he was doing.
"Wait," Rin snapped. "Kael—"
Too late.
The moment his palm met the center, light burst outward from the circle. The runes glowed violently—red, blue, black, silver, gold. The air shifted, pressure slamming down like a weight on their chests.
And then… the sixth symbol appeared.
Not carved.
Branded.
Onto the door.
Onto him.
A deep violet rune, shaped like an open eye split by a blade.
Kael screamed, stumbling back. The mark on his palm now glowed the same violet, searing into his skin like fire.
Rin caught him before he hit the ground.
"Kael!" Her voice was sharp, panicked. "What did you see?"
His eyes flicked open—wide, terrified. "It wasn't just a mark. I saw… everything."
The others circled him, tense.
"What do you mean?" Juno asked.
Kael sat up slowly, breathing ragged. "The city of mirrors. The cords. The cloaked figure. But there was more. A throne. Made of bones. And a mirror—showing all five of us, but… broken. Shattered."
Mace's voice dropped. "And the sixth cord?"
Kael nodded. "It wrapped around the mirror. Like a serpent. It wasn't part of the others. It was watching them."
Juno stood, pacing. "So we were wrong. There isn't just one path that can save us."
"No," Kael whispered. "There's one path that controls the rest."
Silence fell again, heavier this time.
Rin looked at the vault. The sixth symbol still glowed. The door was open now—just barely.
"We go in," she said. "But we do it prepared. This isn't just about tethers anymore. It's about the force behind them."
Kael nodded, rising to his feet with her help. His mark still burned, but it had dulled. As if the tether recognized him now. As if it had marked him back.
They pushed open the vault.
Beyond it, stairs spiraled downward, chiseled into stone that pulsed with faint, unnatural light. Whispers echoed from the depths—voices they didn't recognize but somehow understood.
Juno clicked on a flashlight. "No turning back."
"Was there ever?" Mace muttered.
And with that, they descended.
---
At the bottom waited the truth.
Not of their fate… but of the one who made it.