By mid-morning, the city above seemed calm again. The golden syrup rivers gleamed, the bridges of caramel caught the sunlight, and the distant glass towers sparkled as though nothing had changed.
But beneath the surface, the heartbeat of the Foundry pulsed stronger than ever.
Felix didn't notice the city's quiet. He stood at his window, staring toward the edge of the Bitter District. Nia approached quietly.
"Felix… you can't go back," she said softly.
He didn't turn. "I have to. I need to see it again. To understand it. I can feel it calling me."
Aya came up behind them. "You almost became part of it. The Foundry tried to take you. Don't you get it?"
Felix finally looked at them, his eyes shimmering red at the edges, faintly glowing in the morning light. "I'm not afraid. I… think it wants me to come back."
Tomas's voice was harsh. "And if it doesn't let you leave next time?"
Felix smiled faintly, almost peacefully. "Then I'll be a flavor the city keeps. And maybe that's the point."
Vellum appeared silently in the hallway, as though he had materialized from the shadows themselves. His silver coat reflected the light of the window, sharp and cold.
"You've felt it," he said quietly. "The city's memory. The Bitter District. And yet you still want to descend."
Felix nodded. "Yes. I need to know why it remembers me."
Vellum's eyes flicked to the edge of the Bitter District visible through the dome. "Then you will. But you must understand — the Foundry does not distinguish between memory and life. Once it reaches for you again, the choice will not be yours."
Aya stepped forward. "Then we shouldn't let him go!"
Vellum's gaze swept over them, calm and impossibly deep. "It's already begun. He has tasted the memory. Now the city waits for him to decide what he will give back."
The path to the Bitter District lay open. Through the streets, they walked in silence. The festival remnants were gone, leaving the empty stalls and the faint scent of sugar lingering in the air. Nia's stomach knotted as they approached the familiar alley where the stairway had led them below.
Felix stopped at the top. He looked down at the dark spiral, the red glow faintly visible from the Foundry's reach.
"Are you sure?" Aya asked, her hand trembling.
He nodded. "Yes. I hear it calling me. It's part of the city now — part of me. I can't ignore it."
Vellum stepped closer. "Remember this: The Bitter District is patient. It does not chase. It waits. And it remembers every flavor it ever held."
Felix's hand hovered over the first step. The shadows below seemed to stretch toward him like black fingers. He exhaled slowly.
I'm ready, he whispered.
He descended.
Nia, Aya, and Tomas followed reluctantly. As they passed the threshold, the air grew thick and warm, heavy with the scent of molten sugar and something darker and something much more bitter. The walls of the corridor seemed to breathe, pulsing with a rhythm that matched Felix's heartbeat.
The red glow from the Foundry stretched along the walls, creeping closer with each step. The mechanical ticking they had first heard deep below grew louder, faster, more deliberate.
And then the first whisper came:
"You are remembered."
Felix paused. The voice was soft but everywhere, vibrating through the stones, the air, even his own chest. "Yes," he murmured. "I know."
The group continued. Every step they took seemed to echo through the district, leaving faint, glowing trails behind them on the walls where shapes like names, fading and reappearing in patterns too complex to understand.
Nia swallowed hard. "It's alive," she whispered.
Felix nodded. "It's always been alive. And now it's showing me everything."
From the shadows ahead, the faint silhouette of the fountain appeared, molten red liquid still swirling beneath its hardened surface. And somewhere deep inside the Foundry, the heartbeat grew faster, as though it knew who had returned.
The Bittering has begun again.