The echoes of battle faded into silence.
Zian stood unmoving, her sword lowered. One of the shadow-wraiths knelt before her, not dead—but obedient. Its hollow eyes glowed faintly with golden light. The others had vanished into dust.
"Zian…" Rin said cautiously. "Did you… control that thing?"
"I don't know," she muttered. "It just… listened."
Jax scoffed. "Or it malfunctioned. This whole dungeon is unstable. We move forward, clear it, report the anomaly. That's protocol."
Kaen was crouched by the kneeling wraith. "It wasn't a malfunction," he said. "This thing recognized her. Old loyalty doesn't just disappear."
Elion stood silently, watching Zian with unease. "That wasn't magic theory. That was command."
Zian touched the creature's chest. The moment her hand met the cracked armor, black tendrils of shadow flowed from her fingers—disintegrating the wraith into dust. It didn't resist.
Just then, a faint rumble echoed through the cathedral. Part of the far wall trembled, then collapsed, revealing a spiral staircase descending into darkness.
Rin's scanner buzzed. "Hidden layer. Unmapped."
"Great," Jax muttered. "Now we're breaking into ancient basements."
"Let's go," Zian said firmly, her voice colder than before.
Kaen smiled faintly. She was stepping back into her role—one instinct at a time.
As the team descended, the temperature dropped. The stone walls pulsed faintly with an unseen power. Runes lit up in Zian's presence, casting golden light across the walls. On the final step, the team entered a chamber with a towering mural—faded, cracked… but familiar.
It depicted a battle. A god surrounded by dragons, elves, demons… and twelve winged figures.
Zian gasped.
One of them wore her face.
Kaen stepped beside her. "You're in the painting," he whispered. "You've always been in the war, Zian. You just forgot."
Her hand trembled as she touched the mural.
"I think I remember dying."