Chapter 33 – The Desperate Flight

  The air inside the labyrinth felt different. It wasn’t just the damp, stale scent Ray had long grown accustomed to—it was heavier now, charged with something unseen. A quiet wrongness settled over the tunnels like a whisper of approaching death.

  Ray adjusted his grip on his sword, listening. There was nothing yet, but he could feel it. A pressure in the air, a crawling sensation along his spine.

  Something had changed.

  He turned his gaze toward Alkan. The older man sat still, his remaining hand resting on the hilt of his blade. He had been silent for a long time, and that wasn’t like him. Normally, even in their quiet moments, Alkan would sharpen his sword, mutter training advice, or give Ray another exhausting challenge to push his limits. But now?

  Ray didn’t like the stillness.

  “How bad is it?” he finally asked.

  Alkan exhaled slowly, his posture tense. “I can’t see anymore.”

  Ray frowned. “You mean…?”

  “My future sight.” Alkan clenched his jaw. “It’s gone. Completely. I was already blind, but now I have nothing. No glimpses of what’s coming, no way to anticipate—nothing.”

  A cold sensation crept up Ray’s arms. That ability had been the only reason Alkan had survived for as long as he did. Even without his physical vision, those brief seconds of foresight had given him an edge against nearly anything.

  Without it…

  Ray felt his stomach tighten.

  “You’re close,” he muttered.

  Alkan nodded. “Yeah.”

  Ray ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to think. It was the same as his own nearing awakening—his soul essence had grown denser, harder to manage, slipping away at times like it had a mind of its own. But for Alkan, it was worse.

  Ray had no abilities to lose. Alkan did.

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  And now, he was as blind as a corpse.

  For the first time since they had started their training, Ray saw something unfamiliar in Alkan’s expression.

  Doubt.

  His body was failing before it could transform into something greater.

  Ray opened his mouth to say something—to offer some reassurance, even if it would be a lie—but then he heard it.

  A sound.

  Far off. Deep in the tunnels.

  A scraping noise, slow at first. The deliberate scratch of something dragging across stone.

  Ray’s body went rigid.

  Alkan’s head tilted slightly, his remaining hand tightening around the sword’s hilt. “You heard that too, right?”

  Ray swallowed, his throat dry. “Yeah.”

  It was distant, but not distant enough.

  Then another sound. A wet, guttural exhale. A noise that didn’t belong in this world.

  Alkan’s expression darkened. “The Fallen.”

  Ray felt something cold settle in his gut.

  For months, the Fallen had remained above. They had never come down. The lower floors had always been a safe zone, at least from them. The labyrinth was still filled with horrors, but nothing like that.

  And now, they were here.

  Ray’s mind worked quickly, forcing aside his rising fear. “They’re not just wandering, are they?”

  Alkan’s silence was answer enough.

  They weren’t here by coincidence.

  “They’re hunting something,” Ray continued, forcing his voice to stay level.

  Alkan exhaled sharply. “They can sense me.”

  Ray’s grip tightened around his sword. “Because you’re about to reawaken.”

  Alkan gave a grim nod. “Something about this process… it must have drawn them here.”

  Ray’s thoughts raced.

  The Fallen were predators, creatures of hunger and instinct. The strong consumed the weak, evolving into something even more monstrous. If they had sensed Alkan—his essence shifting, changing—then to them, he wasn’t just prey.

  He was nourishment.

  “We have to move,” Alkan said.

  Ray blinked. “Wait—now?”

  “You want to stay here?”

  Ray didn’t argue. He turned, grabbing their few supplies and throwing them into his pack. Their shelter, the space they had stayed in for so long, was no longer safe.

  Nothing was.

  A distant thud.

  Ray froze.

  That wasn’t just a sound. That was a footstep.

  A heavy one.

  And it was closer than before.

  “Alkan,” Ray whispered.

  “I know.”

  The two of them moved as silently as possible, slipping into the tunnels with careful steps. Ray had to guide Alkan, who was moving slower than usual. His body was adjusting, failing and transforming at the same time.

  Another sound.

  Closer.

  Ray’s pulse pounded in his ears. We won’t make it in time.

  The tunnel stretched ahead of them, impossibly long, impossibly dark.

  Then—

  A roar.

  It wasn’t a normal sound. It wasn’t even something that belonged to a living thing. It was layered, deep and distorted, like multiple voices screaming at once.

  The tunnel shook. Dust and debris crumbled from the ceiling. The sheer force of the sound made Ray’s knees buckle. He had heard creatures roar before.

  But this was different.

  This was the cry of something ancient. Something that had no right to exist.

  Ray grabbed Alkan’s wrist. “Move. Now.”

  They ran.

  The tunnel twisted and turned, each step taking them deeper into the unknown. Ray’s mind screamed at him to think, to plan, but there was no time.

  The Fallen were coming.

  The hunt had begun.

  And they were already too late.