They had no idea what to do next. Their minds were blank, bodies aching, and the air felt heavier than before.
Jet's "insane" idea — to go back inside — sounded like madness. But it was also the reason they had come all this way: to save Roger, and to reveal the true secret this cursed place held.
The hard landing had hurt them badly. Samy's arm was bruised, Tony limped, and Kim's shoulder bled from a cut he didn't even remember getting. Tin helped Jet to stand, her hands trembling. The cold around them was so sharp it burned.
Before they could move, the diary Samy had been carrying suddenly lifted into the air on its own. Its pages flipped violently, glowing faint blue. A gust of cold wind surrounded them — then, with a loud thump, the diary shut itself and vanished into thin air.
Only a single note remained on the ground, fluttering like a dying moth.
Jet picked it up carefully. The handwriting was messy, almost human, almost not.
"To open the hollow, one must bleed truth into the vessel."
They all looked at each other in silence. None of them spoke, but the same thought crept into every mind — Roger didn't have much time left.
The palace groaned again, and the glow from its windows dimmed to a faint pulse, like a dying heartbeat.
Tony whispered, "If we don't do this now… she's gone."
No one argued. They began walking — limping, dragging themselves forward through the dead garden, back toward the black gates. Each step felt like walking into a nightmare that didn't want to end.
When they crossed the threshold again, the doors of the palace creaked open by themselves, as if the place was expecting them.
The Palace Breathes
The air inside was no longer cold — it was alive. The moment they stepped in, they felt it. The walls pulsed faintly, like veins under skin. The black marble floor reflected their faces in distorted shapes.
Something dripped from the ceiling — not water, not blood, but a thick, dark fluid that steamed as it hit the ground. The smell was sour and heavy.
Every sound echoed too long. Their footsteps came back to them seconds later, twisted, like someone else was walking beside them.
Samy shivered. "It's… breathing."
She was right. The entire palace was making a soft, rhythmic sound — in and out, slow and deep, as though the building itself was alive and dreaming.
They passed the sculptures again, but now they weren't still. Some had shifted. One that was once facing the wall now looked straight at them, its stone mouth slightly open, showing rows of tiny teeth.
The paintings on the walls dripped ink like tears. The faces inside them seemed to twitch, their eyes following the group with silent hunger.
In one hallway, the wallpaper peeled away on its own, curling like dead skin. Behind it, they could see veins — black, pulsing, running along the walls.
Kim swallowed hard. "This isn't a house anymore. It's a body."
No one replied.
They reached the grand staircase again, now covered in frost and faint blue symbols that weren't there before. The symbols glowed dimly under their steps as they climbed. The air grew heavier.
Every breath felt like a weight. Every sound was louder than it should be. Somewhere in the distance, a faint humming voice echoed — not speaking, but singing something too low to understand.
Jet clenched her fists. "We're close. I can feel it."
At the top of the stairs, a door waited for them — large, black, marked with the same symbol that had been on the diary's cover.
When they opened it, the cold hit them like a wall.
Inside was the hollow room.
Roger hung in the center of the air, weightless, surrounded by swirling darkness. Her hair drifted like smoke, her hands limp, blood dripping slowly from one palm. Her face was pale, eyes shut, as if she was somewhere far away.
The others froze. For a moment, none of them dared breathe. Then the voice came again — the same one that had haunted them since the beginning, deep and echoing through every wall of the palace.
"To free the bound one… one must cut, and one must bleed into the vessel."
They turned slowly. On a stone pedestal at the edge of the room sat a cracked cup, glowing faint blue.
Tony broke the silence first. "We're not doing that. It's a trap. This place wants our blood — that's how it feeds!"
Jet stepped closer, shaking her head. "You didn't read the note? That's the only way. It said the same thing — to bleed truth into the vessel."
Samy snapped back, "Truth? What does that even mean? You think cutting ourselves in front of that thing will fix anything?"
Tin looked between them, eyes wide. "We don't have time to argue—look at Roger!"
But Tony was pacing now, angry and afraid. "No. We've already lost too much. We barely made it out alive. For all we know, this 'vessel' just wants a sacrifice. And guess who it'll take next?" He pointed at Jet. "You and your insane ideas got us back here."
Jet stepped up to him, eyes burning. "And if we hadn't come back, Roger would already be dead! You think running away helps her?"
"Better than dying here!" Tony shot back.
"Enough!" Kim's voice cracked through the room like thunder. Everyone stopped. He looked at each of them, breathing hard. "We came here together. We finish this together. If the only way to save her is blood, then fine. I'll give it."
Samy stared at him. "Kim, no—"
But Kim was already walking toward the cup. His expression wasn't angry anymore, just calm. "If it needs truth," he said quietly, "then maybe it needs someone who still believes in saving her."
He picked up a shard of broken glass from the floor. The others didn't move. Jet's eyes filled with tears, Samy turned away, and Tony clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles went white.
Kim looked down once more at Roger — hanging there, suspended, fragile and pale — then drew the shard across his wrist.
Blood welled up, thick and dark, running down his arm and into the glowing cup.
The cup hissed. The liquid inside turned black, then white, then clear. The humming grew louder — the whole palace shaking, the walls pulsing faster.
The darkness holding Roger began to crack like glass.
The voice spoke one last time, quieter now, deep and trembling:
"The hollow opens when truth bleeds freely… but beware what wakes beneath."
The floor rumbled. Frost crawled across the walls. From deep below the palace, something stirred — something that had been sleeping for too long.
Jet reached for Roger, holding her limp body close.
Kim's knees buckled.
And from the cracks spreading under their feet, something ancient began to move.