Kael stirs his fingers through the ash of their dead fire.
The warmth in his chest hasn't faded.
But something's wrong.
Too quiet.
Naia senses it too.
She leans forward. "Where's the wind?"
Evan frowns. "And where are the stars?"
Kael looks up.
And freezes.
There are no stars.
Only a hole.
Perfectly circular.
Pitch-black.
Swallowing the night sky.
"That's not… possible," Evan whispers.
Kael rises, slow and deliberate, eyes locked on the impossible sphere overhead.
He feels it in his bones before he says it:
"That's not the sky."
"That's a Door."
Naia draws her blade instinctively.
"Another one of yours?"
Kael's jaw tightens.
"No."
"That one doesn't belong to me."
Far away, in a forgotten archive buried beneath the ruined city of Myrr, a figure in a cracked gold mask kneels before a console of ancient stone and glass.
The screens glow with looping symbols.
One word keeps blinking: ACQUIRED.
The figure speaks without voice—through the system itself:
"Subject Kael has re-established Prime Seal."
"As predicted."
They press a hand to the console.
And whisper a different name:
"Awaken, Gate of Breach."
"Come through."
Back at camp, Kael begins walking toward the darkness in the sky.
He doesn't remember starting.
His feet move on instinct.
Evan grabs his shoulder. "Kael! Wait. Look—Iskra's awake."
Kael turns.
And his heart jolts.
Iskra isn't just awake.
She's floating.
Her hair suspended in an unseen current. Eyes blank. Voice hollow.
"The Breach has opened."
"The Fail-Door hungers."
"The Eighth returns."
The wind slams into them like a wave of knives.
The ground cracks.
Above them, the dark circle begins to expand.
Like something massive is pressing against it from the other side.
Naia throws a shield over them.
Evan draws his shortblade—pointless, but comforting.
Kael's voice is steel:
"This isn't like the other Doors."
"It's wrong. It wasn't sealed by me."
"It's the Door I forgot existed."
Thunder cracks.
Not from the clouds.
From the sky itself.
And something pushes through.
A hand.
Colossal. Veined with crimson light. Its fingers are made of bone and copper.
Naia gasps. "What in the gods' names…"
Kael whispers:
"It's not a god."
"It's something older."
The colossal hand curls around the edge of the portal like it's climbing out of a well.
Each finger pulls free, dripping with memory threads that shriek as they tear.
Kael takes a step back.
"No. No, no, no—this wasn't supposed to be reachable."
"I buried it in the forgotten layer. Beyond the Archive."
Evan looks at him, pale. "What the hell is that?"
Kael's voice breaks.
"It's the Door I made when I was still becoming the Archivist."
"It was never meant to open."
"Not by me. Not by anyone."
The sky turns red.
Like it's bleeding from the pressure.
Iskra suddenly screams—not her voice.
A voice through her.
"THE LOCK HAS FAILED."
"THE BREACH BEGINS."
"ALL FALSE DOORS WILL FALL."
And then the creature's eye appears.
Gigantic.
Golden.
With no pupil.
Just concentric rings, like a vault.
It stares down.
Straight at Kael.
And Kael understands.
This Door wasn't just opened by someone else.
It was invited.
Flashback.
Years ago.
Kaelith Evenhart, mid-transformation into the Archivist.
Standing over a prototype system.
A sealed codebox labeled:
"FAILSAFE: Do Not Activate"
Kael hesitates.
Then inputs a string of keys.
Seven glyphs.
One thought.
"In case I ever turn soft."
Back in the present, Kael trembles.
He remembers now.
He made a backup to the backup.
A Door that could only be opened if he rejected the Archivist.
Which he just did.
Naia grabs him by the collar. "Tell me we can stop it."
Kael stares into the eye above.
And says nothing.
Because the answer…
is no.
Chapter 39 End