The tunnel didn't stop trembling.
If anything, the vibrations grew sharper—like something below ground was grinding its teeth.
Manraj staggered to his feet, leaning heavily against Zoya's arm. His breath came thin, the burning 34 pulsing under his skin like a bruise trying to become a scar.
Zoya was still staring at the place the shadow had vanished.
"That wasn't Azhar," she whispered. "But it was close enough to hurt."
Manraj wiped blood from his lip, wincing.
"It was a shadow wearing him."
"No," Zoya said slowly, eyes narrowed. "It was a shadow remembering him."
She stepped forward, crouching at the spot where the silhouette had flickered.
Her Silence hummed faintly, probing the ground.
"Zoya—careful—" Manraj started.
She ignored him.
Her fingers hovered over the concrete.
A dark pulse rose from the stone.
Not aggressive.
Not hungry.
Recognizing.
She inhaled sharply.
"Manraj… Azhar's shadow isn't gone."
He crouched beside her, forcing his shaky legs to hold.
"You can feel it?"
Zoya nodded once.
"It's retreating deeper. Pulling back into whatever layer he's stuck in."
Manraj swallowed.
"Then it means he saw us."
Zoya's voice softened.
"It means he knows you're alive."
A silence settled between them—thick, heavy, but not without hope.
Then the ground rumbled again.
Harder.
A low groan echoed from the tunnel mouth, like the earth itself was shifting to make room for whatever was coming.
Zoya stepped backward instinctively.
"…okay," she muttered. "That's not Azhar."
Manraj pressed a hand to his chest.
The number 34 flickered.
34 → 33
Then held.
"Zoya," he whispered. "It's counting again."
She grabbed his wrist.
"What changed?"
He stared at the tunnel entrance.
Something breathed from within it.
A deep, slow exhale that stirred dust across the floor.
"Something took its place," he said.
Zoya cursed under her breath.
"Great. So we killed Discount-Azhar and now the main course arrives."
Another breath.
Closer.
Wet.
Thick.
Wrong.
Manraj felt nausea coil in his gut.
"That… doesn't sound like the Root. Or the river entity."
Zoya's Silence crackled faintly at her fingertips.
"Yeah," she muttered. "This is new. I hate new."
The shadows inside the ruined tunnel shifted.
Not like movement.
Like something turning its attention.
Manraj whispered:
"It sees us."
A third breath.
Longer.
Hungrier.
Then—
A voice.
Not spoken.
Not sound.
Something pressed directly into Manraj's skull, cold and ancient and curious:
"…Eryth… awakened…"
Manraj staggered.
Zoya grabbed him by the shoulders.
"MANRAJ—HEY—HEY—stay with me—what did you hear?"
He shook his head, dizzy.
"It's not calling me like the Root did. It's… studying me."
Another whisper pressed into him:
"…broken light… stolen shape… unfinished vessel…"
Manraj's heartbeat stumbled.
"Zoya—Zoya it's calling me—"
She snapped.
"I KNOW. Shut it out."
"I'm trying—!"
She slapped her palm over his chest, Silence surging into his core—not to attack, but to muffle.
The countdown dimmed.
The whispers dulled.
His breath steadied.
"Better?" she asked.
"Yeah," he rasped. "Yeah."
They both looked toward the tunnel.
The air was darker now.
Not because the light changed—
because the shadow inside the tunnel had gained depth.
Like a third dimension had been added where it didn't belong.
Zoya exhaled shakily.
"Okay, listen to me—whatever is in there? It's not the same type of shadow as the parasite we just fought."
Manraj nodded.
"I know."
"Good," she said. "Because this? This feels older."
Older.
That word sat wrong in Manraj's stomach.
"Older than the Root?"
Zoya hesitated.
"…not older. Beneath."
Then the tunnel shadow moved.
Just one step.
Just a shift.
But the concrete groaned as if something massive had dragged its weight forward.
Manraj's pulse hammered.
"We have to leave."
Zoya nodded instantly.
"Yeah. We're not fighting that."
They backed away slowly.
The shadow didn't follow.
But it did speak again.
Not a whisper.
A word.
"…thirty-three…"
Manraj froze.
Zoya's blood ran cold.
"Manraj," she said quietly. "Did it just recite your countdown?"
His heart thudded hard enough to hurt.
"Yes."
Zoya grabbed his hand.
"Then we're leaving. NOW."
They turned—
and Zoya shoved him forward just as the tunnel gave a deep, guttural rumble behind them.
They sprinted across the ruins, lungs burning, shoes slipping on stone.
Only when they reached the street did they stop, chests heaving.
Zoya leaned against a wall, wiping sweat from her brow.
"Okay," she gasped. "New rule."
Manraj held his ribs.
"Yeah?"
"Nothing that knows the countdown," she said, "is allowed out of that tunnel."
He nodded.
"And nothing that knows Azhar's memories," he added, "gets to walk free."
They met each other's eyes.
Shared fear.
Shared resolve.
Shared exhaustion.
Manraj's chest pulsed softly as he whispered:
"Zoya… this is still day two."
She groaned.
"Yeah. I was hoping it was day twenty."
A faint tremor rolled through the ground beneath their feet.
Not dangerous.
Not aggressive.
Just…
A reminder.
Manraj swallowed hard.
"Zoya," he whispered. "This isn't just shadows."
She nodded.
"I know. It's the beginning of a hunt."
They started walking away from the ruins.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Together.
Behind them, deep inside the broken tunnels, the new shadow whispered again—
soft, patient, promising:
"…thirty-three…"
And the countdown continued.