The tunnel narrowed.
Not by design—
by collapse.
Stone scraped Zoya's shoulders as she dragged Manraj upward, every heartbeat hammering in her ears louder than the thunder of destruction behind them.
Dust burned her eyes.
Her arms screamed.
Her Silence flickered weakly, like a trembling candle held against a storm.
"Come on," she whispered, voice cracking. "Come on, Manraj. Don't fade on me."
His body twitched in her grasp—
not conscious
not coherent
but reacting.
Reacting to the guardian's voice echoing from below:
"ERYTH. RETURN."
The command rolled through the tunnel like a physical force.
Every time it hit, Manraj's body jerked—
as if something inside him wanted to obey.
Zoya tightened her grip until her knuckles blanched.
"Don't you dare. Not after everything—don't you dare leave me with that thing."
A tremor shivered through the earth.
Then—
A scream.
Not hers.
Not Manraj's.
Azhar.
But it wasn't a pain-scream.
It was a war-cry—shadows snarling through it like thunder.
Zoya's steps faltered.
"Azhar…?"
A second roar answered him—the guardian's—deeper, older, furious.
The clash of shadow and ancient light shook dust from the ceiling.
Zoya forced herself not to turn back.
"I said I'd come back for you," she whispered. "But I can't save anyone if I don't get him out first."
Manraj breathed a soft, broken word:
"…Zoya…?"
It barely counted as sound, but it froze her.
He was waking again.
"No, no—stay quiet," she begged. "Your mind can't handle another awakening, and I can't carry you if you start burning."
But he blinked once, unfocused, eyes flickering with white-silver.
"Azhar…" he rasped, voice layered—his and Eryth's twisted together.
Zoya swallowed past the lump in her throat.
"He's alive. He's buying us time."
Manraj's fingers curled weakly into her sleeve.
"Don't… let him…"
The rest dissolved into a shiver, and he slumped again.
Zoya grabbed him tighter.
"I'm not letting him anything," she muttered. "I'm getting you both out of this cursed bat cave."
The tunnel groaned overhead.
A crack tore down the ceiling.
A slab of stone dropped in front of her, blocking the path.
"No—NO—!"
She slammed her palms against it.
Silence shuddered— flickered— thinned.
But did not break the slab.
Zoya staggered back, clutching her chest.
"Come on—come ON—!"
The guardian's roar surged up the tunnel again—
"WHERE IS HE?"
The walls rattled.
Azhar's shadows rose in answer, but weaker this time.
Zoya's breath hitched.
She wasn't strong enough to blast through the slab.
Azhar was barely holding on below.
Manraj was barely conscious.
The guardian was coming.
Her throat tightened.
"Think, Zoya. THINK."
Manraj twitched.
The glowing marks across his chest pulsed once—
silver
white
amber
in a synchronized rhythm.
A rhythm she recognized.
A rhythm the vault had reacted to.
"Manraj…"
Her voice softened.
"Can you hear me?"
His breathing spiked—painful, erratic.
Zoya placed her hand lightly over the glowing symbols.
"Borrowing isn't safe," she whispered, trembling. "But I don't have a choice."
The slab trembled again as the guardian clawed its way upward.
Zoya exhaled slowly.
Then she pressed her forehead to Manraj's chest—
touching the symbols with her mind, not her power.
She opened her Silence—
just a crack—
letting it brush against whatever lived inside him now.
A jolt shot through her skull.
Too bright.
Too cold.
Too ancient.
But she didn't pull away.
"I'm not taking it," she whispered. "Just guide me. Show me how to open the stone."
Manraj's body shivered.
Then—
A thread of silver light slipped from his chest into her palms.
Not enough to hurt him.
Just enough to steady her flickering Silence.
Zoya rose.
Turned back to the slab.
Raised her hands.
And whispered—
"Open."
Silence smashed through the stone like a blade.
The slab split clean down the center.
Fresh air—cold river-night air—poured into the tunnel from above.
Zoya gasped.
"We're close."
She hauled Manraj upward, scraping her hands on jagged rock, dragging them toward the light.
Behind them—
A ripple of shadow tore upward.
Azhar's voice, hoarse, furious, rang through the collapsing space:
"Zoya—RUN!"
The guardian roared behind him.
It was coming.
Closer.
Climbing.
Zoya scrambled up the last stretch of tunnel—
legs bleeding, breath failing—
until at last—
she broke through the surface.
She spilled onto the riverbank, dragging Manraj with her as the moonlit sky swallowed them both.
The tunnel behind them shuddered— growled— began to crumble.
Azhar did not emerge.
Not yet.
Zoya stared at the shaking earth.
Her voice tore out of her in a whisper:
"Azhar… please—"
Another roar exploded from below.
This one wasn't the guardian's.
It was Azhar's.
Filled with rage.
And fear.
And something else—
refusal.
Zoya flinched as a bloom of black shadow erupted from the tunnel mouth like a storm released.
But no Azhar.
Just the echo of him shouting—
"GET HIM AWAY—NOW!"
Zoya staggered backward, pulling Manraj farther from the collapsing hole.
Her heartbeat thundered.
Her knees buckled.
The ground cracked
open again—
as if the guardian were forcing the surface apart—
trying to break into the city.
Zoya whispered:
"…Azhar… what did you DO down there?"
But she already knew.
He wasn't buying time anymore.
He was buying survival.
Hers.
Manraj's.
By trading his.