The wind rising from the fissure carried a scent Elizabeth had never felt before not the smell of wet soil, not dust or smoke, but something older, deeper, as if the city had been holding the first breath of the world and was now releasing it back into the air.
Lucas kept a tight grip on her arm, but his body leaned back involuntarily as the warm wave pushed against him from below. Ana screamed, Elise clutched Jace even tighter, and the smaller stones around them jumped in place like grains of sand entering a nightmare.
"Elizabeth! Step back!" Lucas shouted.
But Elizabeth didn't move.
Her gaze was empty not lost, but listening, as if hearing something meant only for the soul.
Then… the sound came.
Not human.
Not echo.
Not wind.
A sound like the world's own breath, wrapped in a grief so ancient it felt older than time.
Elizabeth…
A whisper.
Or maybe a memory.
Or maybe only the mind, reaching toward something larger than itself.
Elizabeth tightened her grip on Lucas's hand. "Do you hear it?" she whispered.
Lucas shook his head sharply. "We have to go. Now."
"But it's calling."
"It's not calling it's pulling you down."
Before she could answer, the ground shuddered again.
Not a quake.
Something rising.
The fissure widened.
A heavy stone slid aside with unnatural force. Elise screamed. Jace tried to stand but collapsed again.
Lucas shielded Elizabeth with his body, pulling her close. "Don't look down! Elizabeth don't!"
But she opened her eyes wider instead.
And before Lucas realized it, she took a small step forward half conscious, half drawn.
He grabbed her wrist instantly. "Elizabeth, NO!"
She stopped, breath breaking, her eyes suddenly clear.
"I… I don't know why," she whispered. "Lucas… that sound feels like a prayer unfinished."
Lucas pulled her back. "Prayers don't come from cracks in the ground."
But at that moment, the earth fell silent.
Completely.
Utterly.
A silence too full, too still.
Ash drifted slowly through the air. Far-off gunfire faded into a muffled memory. The city seemed frozen in a moment that should not exist.
Then… from the fissure…
A stream of air rose cold this time, startlingly cold.
Lucas felt chill needles crawl up his spine. Something had changed. Something now watched them.
Elizabeth lowered herself slightly, keeping her distance. "This isn't just sound. It's… a wound."
"A wound?"
She reached out her hand, letting the cold pass over her fingers. "This city… this earth… whatever lies beneath it… is wounded. Not angry. Not hateful. Just… lonely."
Ana clung to Elise and sobbed. "Sister… are we going to die?"
Elizabeth knelt, brushing the girl's hair. "No, sweetheart. No one is dying today."
But the reassurance didn't last.
The fissure exhaled again a long, low groan like a creature stirring in its sleep.
Lucas stepped between Elizabeth and the crack. "We're leaving. Right now."
Elise lifted Jace. Ana wiped her face. They turned to leave the square as fast as they could.
They were three steps away when the final tremor hit deep, heavy, striking their chests like a wave shaped by giant hands.
Lucas turned.
Elizabeth did too.
Both froze.
Because from inside that darkness…
a thread of light emerged.
Thin.
Pale.
Like a lost moonbeam rising from under the earth.
The light moved.
Not shining searching.
Like fingers brushing stone, dust, and broken memories.
And when it reached toward Elizabeth
the air fell dead silent.
Lucas yanked her behind him. "Stay back! Elizabeth, stay!"
But the light didn't attack.
It reached.
Gently.
Softly.
As if offering its hand.
Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand, tears forming. "It's… asking for help."
"No light asks for help from beneath the ground," Lucas snapped.
He pulled her close, but the light paid him no attention. It moved only toward Elizabeth like a child seeking its mother in the dark.
Another faint tremor rippled beneath their feet.
Not violent.
Not angry.
A quiet sob.
Elizabeth closed her eyes, listening to the sorrow rising from below. "Why… why can I feel it?"
Lucas opened his mouth to answer, but Elise screamed:
"The stones! They're moving again!"
The fissure widened
slowly,
slowly,
but steadily.
Like the earth opening its jaws for the first time in centuries.
The light trembled once more…
…and then suddenly vanished.
Silence slammed into the square.
Too fast.
Too sudden.
Elizabeth stood perfectly still.
"What happened?" Lucas asked.
Elizabeth opened her eyes slowly and her face drained of color.
"Lucas…"
Her voice shrank into a whisper.
"The crack… it's closing."
And she was right.
Right before their eyes
the stones that had been forced apart began sliding back, as if the world was stitching its own skin.
Lucas froze.
Ana whimpered.
Elise clutched her chest.
"Why why is it closing?" Lucas demanded.
Elizabeth blinked, breath shaky.
"Because… it's finished."
"Finished with what?"
She swallowed hard.
"Searching for another way."
Lucas grabbed her shoulders. "What do you mean another way? Elizabeth what"
She looked at him then.
Deep.
Empty.
Terrified.
And in the soft fall of ash around them, she whispered:
"Lucas… I think its way is me."
Lucas stiffened.
Breath stalled.
Thoughts crumbled.
But before he could speak
A sound exploded in the distance.
Not a quake.
Not a bomb.
Something trying to rise somewhere else.
Elizabeth whipped her head toward the sound, eyes wide.
Her voice cracked.
The echo of that distant impact rolled through the ruins like thunder crawling along cracked stone. Birds those few that remained burst from a shattered bell tower, wings beating frantically as if fleeing something the eye could not see.
Lucas grabbed Elizabeth's wrist. "We're leaving. Now."
But Elizabeth didn't move.
She stared at the horizon, where dust plumed upward in a thin column like breath escaping another wound in the earth.
"Lucas… that wasn't an explosion."
"I don't care what it was. We're getting the children out of here."
He turned to Elise. "Take Ana and Jace back to the chapel. Stay on the left path—it's more stable."
Elise nodded, though her face was pale. She shepherded the children quickly, guiding them over broken cobblestones and around the collapsed statue of the old bishop. Their silhouettes shrank with each step.
Lucas tugged Elizabeth again. "Come on."
But she remained rooted to the ground, her voice barely air.
"I felt it."
Lucas stiffened. "Felt what?"
"The same presence. But stronger. As if…" Her throat tightened, and she placed a trembling hand over her chest. "As if it recognized me from there too."
"Elizabeth don't say that."
"It's not a choice," she whispered. "It's… knowing."
The sky darkened slightly as a cloud of ash drifted overhead. The silence in the square felt wrong like the world was listening.
Lucas stepped in front of her, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Listen to me. You don't belong to whatever is under this city. You're not"
He stopped.
Her eyes had unfocused again just for a heartbeat.
It was enough.
Lucas cupped her face, thumbs gentle but firm. "Stay with me. You hear me? Stay."
Her breath hitched. Slowly, the fog lifted from her expression, replaced by fear and something else he rarely saw in her:
Doubt.
"Lucas… what if it isn't dangerous?" she asked softly. "What if it's simply… broken? Like us?"
Lucas's jaw tightened. "Broken things don't reach from underground."
She looked away. "Neither do prayers. But they can still be heard."
A cold gust swept across the square, swirling ash in a quiet spiral. Elizabeth shivered not from the cold, but from the unmistakable pull in her chest.
Then, from far across the ruins, came the faintest tremor.
Not the boom of falling stone.
Not the groan of shifting rubble.
Something… deliberate.
Like fingers pressing slowly upward against the earth.
Elizabeth flinched as if struck. Lucas held her shoulders. "What happened?"
"It touched the city again," she whispered. "I felt the ground… breathe."
Lucas looked around the empty square the broken fountain, the skeletal buildings, the long shadows cast by the rising ash-cloud. Everything was too still. Too expectant.
"This place is wrong," he muttered. "It's like the city knows something's coming."
Elizabeth's lips parted. "It does."
Another soft pulse moved through the earth, barely noticeable yet she reacted instantly, her hand flying to her heart.
Lucas pulled her to him. "You're shaking."
"It's louder now," she whispered into his chest. "Not the sound… the feeling."
He swallowed hard, holding her tighter. "Elizabeth. Whatever it is wants something from you. That's why we need to go."
"And if leaving makes it worse?"
"It can't follow us across the surface."
Her voice trembled. "But Lucas… what if it doesn't need to?"
He froze.
The air shifted again subtle, but enough to raise the hairs on his neck.
Then the square answered with a sound neither of them expected:
A faint ringing.
Soft.
Clear.
Lucas turned sharply. "What was that?"
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "The chapel bell."
"That's impossible. The tower collapsed."
But the sound came again distant, echoing, metallic.
A bell ringing where no bell stood.
Elizabeth's voice shook. "It's calling from another place."
Lucas stared at her. "From where?"
She swallowed.
"From the ground beneath the chapel."
Lucas's blood ran cold.
Another pulse rippled under their feet, like a distant heartbeat rising through layers of stone and ash. The bell-like chime followed it, resonating in the air between them faint but unmistakable.
Elizabeth stepped backward without realizing it, her eyes unfocused again. "It's… moving."
"Elizabeth don't!" Lucas grabbed her arms.
She gasped, clutching his shirt. "Lucas"
"What?"
Her next words came as a whisper that chilled him more than any tremor could:
"It's looking for me."
Lucas tightened his hold. "Then we run."
"No," she breathed. "It's too late for that."
Another deep thrum shook the ground, this time stronger, rolling beneath the city like thunder buried under stone.
Somewhere far behind them, a flock of crows exploded into the sky.
Lucas's eyes darted to the horizon.
Dust rose from a second place now.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Like something enormous moving beneath the surface.
He grabbed Elizabeth's hand. "We're getting back to the chapel. Now."
But before they could take a single step
the ground beneath them exhaled.
Not warm.
Not cold.
Just… knowing.
Elizabeth's breath hitched. She clung to Lucas, unable to look away from the horizon.
And with a voice quieter than falling ash, she said:
"Lucas… I don't think it will let me go."
Lucas tightened his grip
and the earth shuddered again, deeper than before, as if an ancient presence had finally chosen its path.