The night refused to settle.
Even after Crimson Gale vanished, the air remained heavy—charged with something ancient, something vast. It was like the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something it had no name for.
Arin lay on the rooftop, every muscle trembling, his chest burning with a strange internal fire. Kairon crouched beside him, one hand on Arin's back, steadying his breathing through the bond.
"You must let the aura settle," Kairon whispered. "Not suppress it—let it sink."
Arin clenched his teeth, sweating. "I'm trying, but—it's like a heartbeat outside my body."
"That's not your aura," Kairon said quietly. "It's something below us."
The words chilled Arin more than the night wind ever could.
"What do you mean… below us?"
Kairon didn't answer immediately. His eyes drifted over the city—the faint tremors, the subtle flickering of lights, the distant thrum vibrating through the ground. It was faint, but unmistakable.
"Something ancient is waking," he said. "And it's calling out."
Arin swallowed. "Calling to who?"
"To anything with draconic blood," Kairon murmured. "Which now includes you."
Arin shut his eyes. Wonderful.
The rooftop door slammed open.
Lira burst out, two agents behind her, weapons drawn and glowing with faint blue light.
Her eyes darted between Arin and the shattered rooftop. "What the hell happened? We felt an aura spike that nearly fried the sensors—"
Her voice cut off when her gaze landed on the scorched concrete.
And then on Kairon's injuries.
"Kairon, you're bleeding," she said, moving toward him.
Kairon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's nothing."
"It is very much something," one agent snapped. "This level of battle aura is way beyond what our protocols account for."
Lira pointed at Arin, who was still breathing hard. "And him—his readings went off the charts. His aura signature is mutating again."
Arin groaned. "Can we not say 'mutating' while I'm conscious?"
Kairon ignored the Bureau agents, focusing solely on Arin.
"Can you stand?"
Arin tried. His legs wobbled like jelly, but with Kairon's support he managed to get up.
The agent closest to them stiffened. "Careful with him—his aura is still active—"
Arin's pulse flared.
A faint golden-blue shimmer rippled from his skin, distorting the air around him.
The agent jumped back. "Yep, still extremely active!"
Kairon tugged Arin closer protectively. "Stay calm. The more fear you feel, the more your aura reacts."
Arin hissed through clenched teeth. "Then maybe STOP talking about it killing me."
Lira stepped closer, calmer than the others. "Arin, listen to me. We're getting you inside. Medical scanners, aura stabilizers, the whole lot. Just breathe and follow my voice."
Arin nodded weakly.
But just as they turned toward the door—
The ground shook.
Not a mild tremor.
A deep, rolling quake that made the entire rooftop groan beneath their feet.
Kairon froze, eyes snapping toward the east side of the city. "It's starting."
Lira paled. "What is?"
Kairon answered with a voice so quiet it barely carried over the wind:
"The thing Crimson Gale warned us about."
Down below, cars skidded to a halt. Streetlamps flickered. People shouted as windows rattled.
Another tremor rippled through the earth, and this time Arin felt it not just under his feet but inside his chest—like a second heartbeat overlapping his own.
He clutched his ribs. "That sensation—I felt it earlier when Crimson Gale arrived."
Kairon nodded, eyes narrowed. "It's growing stronger."
"What is it?" Lira demanded.
Kairon's expression was grave. "Something sealed. Something that predates all human history."
Lira stared. "Is it a dragon?"
Arin hoped not.
Kairon shook his head. "No dragon radiates aura like this. Not even the oldest ones."
The earth throbbed again, heavier.
Lira muttered a curse. "We need visual feeds. Agents, patch into seismic scans, satellite overlays—anything."
The agents scrambled.
One spoke into his device. "Control, this is rooftop unit. We're detecting—uh—large-scale aura disruptions under the city grid. Multiple epicenters. Requesting full analysis."
Control answered with static for a second—then a strained voice:
"Negative. All underground sensors just malfunctioned simultaneously."
Lira stiffened. "All of them?"
"Every single one."
Kairon closed his eyes. "It's waking faster than I expected."
Arin swallowed, throat dry. "What is waking, Kairon?"
Kairon looked at him then—serious, ancient, afraid.
"Arin… this aura doesn't belong to a living thing."
Arin blinked. "What does that even mean?!"
"It's not breathing," Kairon said, voice low. "It's not thinking. It's simply reacting to magic. Like a machine. Or a remnant. Or a prison."
Another tremor shook the city, heavier than before. Loose gravel skidded across the rooftop. Dust fell from overhead structures.
Arin's aura flickered violently.
Kairon grabbed his shoulders. "Focus. Breathe."
Arin tried, but the heat inside him pulsed in sync with the quakes.
"It's calling me," he whispered. "It's actually calling me."
Lira's face tightened. "Why would something under the city call to you?"
Kairon answered without hesitation.
"Because Arin is bonded to me. And whatever is beneath us was designed to react to dragons."
Arin froze. "Wait… it's reacting to dragons? Meaning you're waking it up?"
Kairon didn't deny it.
Arin's stomach dropped. "Oh great. So we're the problem."
Kairon didn't look away. "Not the problem. The trigger."
Another quake hit.
This one cracked the rooftop beneath them.
A loud siren blared from the Bureau's emergency systems. The building's lights flickered red.
The agent nearest the rooftop edge shouted, "Lira! We're detecting a massive surge beneath central district—the aura is spreading!"
"How big?" she barked.
"City-wide!"
Arin felt the next pulse before it even hit.
A wave of magic surged upward through the entire district—visible, to his eyes, as a sheet of bluish-gold energy rising through the streets like fog.
Pedestrians collapsed. Birds scattered wildly. Neon signs exploded.
Arin gasped. "I can see it—why can I see it?"
Kairon answered, "Because you're connected to it."
The wave hit the building.
Arin doubled over, clutching his head.
Voices—echoes—not words but sensations—flooded through him.
Chains.
Seals.
Cold stone.
A vast, locked chamber.
Something twisting beneath the earth.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Arin cried out.
Kairon grabbed him. "Arin! Stay with me!"
"I—I can feel it," Arin whispered, shaking. "It's waking up. Something sealed—something old—and it's breaking free."
The Bureau agents stared in horror.
Lira cursed softly. "We need to get you underground."
"No," Kairon said sharply. "Underground is the worst place. Whatever is waking is beneath us."
The building shuddered.
Arin's vision blurred again. "Kairon… something big is rising."
Kairon's expression hardened. "Then we need height."
He picked Arin up with surprising ease.
Lira snapped, "Absolutely not—where are you taking him?!"
"Somewhere he can breathe," Kairon replied. "Away from the epicenter."
The rooftop itself gave a long, ominous groan.
A low, thunder-like rumble rolled across the city.
Street panels buckled. Manholes blew into the air. People screamed as cracks split across the main avenue.
Then—
A geyser of bluish light burst from beneath the street near the city center.
Arin stared, horrified. "What—what is that?!"
Kairon's eyes widened. "A breach."
Lira looked equally pale. "A breach of what?!"
"The seal," Kairon said. "Something is breaking through."
More ruptures erupted across the district—pillars of ancient light, each one flickering like a heartbeat.
Arin grabbed Kairon's arm. "Is it a monster? Another dragon?"
Kairon shook his head. "It's not alive. It's… architecture."
Arin's jaw dropped. "You're telling me a building is waking up?!"
"Not a building." Kairon pointed to the glowing fissures. "A vault. A labyrinth. Something from the old age."
Arin felt his chest seize. "So there's a giant… thing… under the city?"
Kairon nodded grimly. "A relic."
Lira's voice dropped to a whisper. "What does it do?"
Kairon didn't blink.
"It imprisons things."
Arin froze solid.
"Things like what?" he asked.
Kairon exhaled slowly. "Creatures even dragons feared."
Before Arin could process that, the ground shook violently again.
A section of street collapsed entirely—revealing a glimpse of a massive stone structure beneath.
Carved with glowing blue runes.
Older than anything human.
Arin's breath hitched. "That's… not possible."
Kairon lifted his chin, face darkening.
"It's very possible," he said quietly. "The ancient world was buried, not destroyed."
Another crack opened—this one larger.
From within the depths, a gust of cold air surged upward.
Air that felt wrong.
Empty.
Hungry.
Lira's hand trembled as she raised her device. "What is down there?"
Kairon answered without looking at her.
"Sentinels."
Arin's throat tightened. "Sentinels?"
"They guard prisons," Kairon said. "If they're waking… then whatever they were guarding is stirring too."
The rooftop split.
Arin stumbled, clutching Kairon for balance.
Kairon steadied him. "We need to get out—now."
Lira shouted into her comms, "All units, evacuate the district! I repeat—evacuate immediately!"
But it was too late.
From the largest crack—
Something moved.
Not a creature.
Not a living thing.
A shadow-like construct of stone and magic unfurled itself, rising slowly, piece by piece, from the underground chamber.
Its eyes glowed with dead blue light.
Arin's aura flared in panic.
Kairon's expression twisted with something Arin had never seen from him before.
Actual fear.
"That," Kairon whispered, "is a Sentinel of the Hollow Depths."
The construct turned its head toward them.
And its eyes locked directly onto Arin.
Kairon stepped forward, aura burning.
"Don't look at him. Look at me."
The Sentinel ignored him.
It raised a stone arm—massive, heavy, etched with glowing runes—
And pointed directly at Arin.
Arin's heartbeat stopped.
Lira whispered, "What… what does that mean…?"
Kairon swallowed.
"It means," he said quietly, "that Arin is the one it was awakened for."
Arin's blood ran cold.
The Sentinel's runes brightened.
The ground beneath them cracked.
And Kairon's final words cut through the roar of collapsing concrete:
"Arin—RUN."