The corridor feels endless—a tunnel where time and space dissolve into shadows that dance along the walls as Dave and Heinz move forward. Each step echoes into the distance, yet the silence between them is heavier still, thick with unspoken words and stolen glances.
Dave doesn't dare ask. Something in Heinz's expression tells him this is not the time. But the question burns nonetheless: What kind of dimension has he stepped into this time? How many more exist where his own brother is his enemy?
After a stretch that seems to stretch forever, they reach a circular chamber, dark and sinister. The floor is etched with ancient symbols and softly glowing runes. Heinz steps into the center and begins drawing a circle in the air, his movements swift and precise, like someone who's performed this ritual countless times before.
Dave crosses his arms, watching him with a furrowed brow. His mind wavers between distrust and the strange pull to believe in this unexpected ally. There's something magnetic about Heinz—his mystery, his silence, the secret tension that surrounds him. It lures Dave forward, makes him ignore his doubts, tempts him to risk everything. And he knows one wrong move could cost him dearly.
"Are you planning to explain what you're doing?" Dave breaks the silence, his tone dripping with sarcasm and curiosity. He tries to sound detached, but the gleam in his eyes betrays him.
Heinz pauses. A smirk curls on his lips, but he continues the ritual, his rhythm unbroken.
"What makes you think you need to know everything, Dave?" he replies, voice both challenging and irresistibly charming. "Some things are better left as mysteries."
Dave chuckles under his breath, tilting his head as he studies him. He's used to being challenged, but the way Heinz plays this game—with its mix of allure and provocation—keeps him on edge.
"Come on, Heinz. I'm not the type to follow orders blindly. If you're luring me into some kind of hellish trap or sacrificial ritual, the least you can do is drop a hint to let me decide if it's worth sticking around."
Heinz glances over his shoulder, face cold and calculating—but there's something else in his eyes, something Dave can't quite read. He doesn't answer. Instead, he returns his focus to the glowing runes, which now shine brighter, casting an eerie, flickering light across the room.
Dave can't help but be fascinated. There's a dangerous elegance in the way Heinz moves, in the power he conjures. Despite his doubts, something deep inside him pushes him to stay. To see how far this will go.
"You know," Dave says, stepping closer, "this whole 'mysterious silence' routine is starting to feel a lot like seduction."
Heinz finishes the final symbol. Without turning around, he smiles—just barely—but the tension in that small gesture sends a shiver down Dave's spine.
"Is that what you think?" Heinz's voice is soft, laced with something darker. "Maybe you should ask yourself why you're still playing."
Dave steps toward him. Now they're close enough to feel each other's warmth. The air thickens, charged with electricity. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, time freezes. Dave doesn't know what keeps him there—but the truth is, he no longer cares.
"Maybe," Dave murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "it's because I like the risk."
Heinz arches a brow, amused. For the first time since they met, his face softens, revealing an expression Dave never expected to see. But the moment is brief. In a blink, Heinz returns to his usual distant demeanor.
"Be careful, Dave. Some risks aren't worth taking," he warns, his voice low, reverberating in the chamber's stillness.
"Oh, really?" Dave replies, his smile defiant. "You don't seem too eager to stop me."
Silence falls again, heavy with unspoken challenges and simmering attraction. Dave knows he should back away, keep his distance. But something about Heinz compels him forward, tempts him to keep exploring this volatile, electric connection.
"This isn't a game, Dave," Heinz says finally, voice firm—but with a flicker of hesitation. "You have no idea what's at stake here."
"Then tell me." Dave's voice softens—uncharacteristically sincere. "What do you really want from me?"
Heinz looks at him. For a second, it seems like he might answer—might say something that would change everything. But instead, he shakes his head, his face hardening again, as if sealing off whatever vulnerability had dared to rise.
"That's something you'll have to figure out on your own," he says, voice steady—but his eyes still flicker with something more. "But I'll say this: if you cross this line, there's no going back. Not for you. Not for me."