A group of people wake up in a video game world and are forced to work together to survive and find out how to escape.

Artemis faces more than ever before as the castle pulls away at her mind.

I’m half way through cleaning up previous chapters and I’ve got the full story mostly finished now just in need of clean up as well.

That means we’re in the endgame now! Will there be more? We’ll see.

Chapter 20 Recap.
Artemis and the others finally made it inside the ‘fortress’ and discovered it was actually a castle.

The knight is likely close behind them but shouldn’t be able to get inside?

They met the castles caretaker and learned they need to reach the heart of the castle.

Chapter 21
“So… I guess we just find the next set of stairs and go up,” I say, my voice echoing softly in the quiet corridor.

Kaida lets out a small sigh, adjusting her staff as she glances around. “Great. More stairs. This castle just loves making us work for answers, doesn’t it?”

Veyron chuckles dryly, his steps light and deliberate as he moves ahead. “Hey, at least we haven’t triggered any traps yet. I’m counting that as a win.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Hrothgar rumbles from the front, his axe resting across his broad shoulders. “This place hasn’t shown its teeth yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t.”

“I have a feeling the reason it’s been calm till now is that we were supposed to talk to him first,” I say, glancing at the others as we move down the corridor. My voice echoes slightly in the quiet, the weight of the thought settling over me.

Kaida looks at me, her brow furrowed. “You think he’s part of this place’s… design? Like, we couldn’t move forward without speaking to him?”

“Think about it,” I continue, gesturing at the walls and furniture around us. “This is the first floor that looks like it’s still lived in—or alive, or… whatever. Everything below was just dusty rooms, storage. But this floor… it feels different.”

Veyron raises an eyebrow, his smirk faint but curious. “So you’re saying the creepy old guy was a checkpoint?”

“Or a guide,” Lorien says, his tone thoughtful as he glances back at me. “It makes sense. This castle isn’t just throwing random challenges at us. It’s deliberate—like it’s testing us, step by step.”

Hrothgar nods, his expression grim. “If this is where things get real, we’d better be ready. Whatever’s waiting above, it won’t be easy.”

Kaida groans, muttering something about “overthinking castles,” but she doesn’t argue.

I grip my bow tighter, the faint hum of the castle’s energy pressing against me like a weight. This floor felt like a calm before the storm. Whatever’s next… it’s not going to let us pass easily.

“He said it would challenge us physically and mentally,” Lorien says as we walk, his tone calm but questioning. “What do you think that means?”

I let out a slow breath, keeping my eyes on the path ahead. “Physically is obvious,” I reply. “Fights, traps, monsters… everything this game has thrown at us so far. But mentally?” I pause, biting my lip as I think. “That’s harder to pin down.”

“Maybe puzzles,” Kaida suggests, though her tone is less confident than usual. “You know, like riddles or figuring out which lever to pull without setting off a spike trap or something.”

“Could be,” I say, nodding slowly. “But it could also mean it’s going to mess with us. Make us question things. Maybe even turn us against each other.”

Veyron snorts, his smirk sharp. “Turning us against each other, huh? That’d be a trick. We’re already so close and cuddly.”

“Not helping,” I mutter, though his words make my stomach twist. “I’m just saying, this place doesn’t feel like it plays fair. If it knows us as well as the old man said, it’ll know how to hit us where it hurts.”

Hrothgar lets out a low grunt. “If it comes to that, we stick together. No matter what it throws at us.”

I glance at Lorien, his expression steady but troubled. “We’ll handle it,” I say softly, more to reassure myself than anything. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. That’s how we’ve gotten this far.”

As we reach the base of the stairs, I can’t shake the gnawing feeling of dread building in my chest. My hand tightens around my bow, the weight of the past few days pressing down on me like a stone. Everywhere else we’ve been, someone—or all of us—has come close to dying. And now this place wants to really “test” us?

I glance up at the spiraling staircase, the shadows seeming deeper, darker as the faint torchlight barely touches the steps ahead. If it’s meant to push us to our limits, then it’s going to throw everything we’ve faced and worse at us. It’ll be relentless.

I swallow hard, trying to steady myself, but my hands feel cold and unsteady. Monsters, traps, trials… It’s never just one thing. What’s next? What could be worse than what we’ve already survived?

With a deep breath, I step onto the first stair, the cold stone sending a shiver up my spine. The others follow, and we begin the climb, each step feeling heavier as we ascend toward whatever this castle has planned for us.

As we reach the top of the stairwell, an unsettling stillness greets us. The corridor—or whatever lies ahead—is completely pitch black. No windows, no faint torchlight like the previous floor. The darkness feels oppressive, almost alive, pressing against us as we stand there in silence.

Kaida lifts her staff, its faint glow illuminating a few feet in front of us, but the light is swallowed by the void almost immediately. She glances around nervously, her grip tightening. “Well, this is… inviting.”

Hrothgar steps forward cautiously, his axe held ready. “Careful,” he rumbles. “This isn’t just the absence of light. There’s something off about this.”

“No kidding,” Veyron mutters, his voice low. “This place just gets better and better.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I scan the darkness ahead. There’s no way this is natural. The castle’s testing us, and it’s starting right here.

“We’ll have to move carefully,” Lorien says, stepping closer to me, his voice calm despite the tension in the air. “Stay close to the light, and don’t get separated.”

Kaida adjusts her staff, trying to widen its glow, but the darkness pushes back, stubborn and unyielding. “This isn’t normal,” she mutters. “It’s like the shadows are alive.”

“This is my kind of place,” Shade says, his voice echoing in my mind, tinged with amusement. He chuckles softly, the sound both grating and unsettling. “Darkness, mystery, challenges—it’s all so exciting.”

“Can you, I don’t know, absorb all this darkness or whatever?” I think back, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

“No,” he replies smoothly, the humor in his voice growing. “But I can let you see in it. Your friends, though… not so much. They’re on their own.”

I frown, gripping my bow tighter as the shadows seem to press closer around us. “And what’s the catch?” I think, already knowing he’s rarely this generous without some kind of price.

“No catch,” Shade says, his tone mockingly innocent. “Call it an experiment. I want to see how you handle things when you’re not completely blind in the dark.”

I hesitate, my eyes flickering to the others. They’re all huddled close, relying on Kaida’s dim staff light to guide them, but it’s painfully clear how little it’s helping. The darkness here isn’t natural—it’s suffocating, alive, and it’s swallowing us whole.

“Fine,” I think back begrudgingly. “Do it.”

Instantly, my vision sharpens, the oppressive blackness peeling back like layers of fog. Shapes and outlines appear—shadowy but distinct. The corridor ahead stretches far into the distance, its walls lined with carvings that seem to shift and writhe when I focus on them.

“Great,” I mutter under my breath, blinking as I adjust to the sudden clarity. “That’s… unsettling.”

“What’s unsettling?” Lorien asks, his voice low, his spear at the ready as he stays close.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “Let’s just keep moving.”

“Lying to your boyfriend already?” Shade teases, his laughter echoing in my mind. “This is going to be fun.”

I continue forward, keeping my steps slow and deliberate, pretending I’m just as blind as the others. My bow is in my hand, my fingers brushing against the string as I strain my vision to spot anything moving in the thick darkness around us.

Kaida’s faint staff glow flickers just ahead of me, illuminating the others’ tense faces. They’re all walking like they’re about to step into a pit or onto some unseen trap.

Meanwhile, I can see everything—at least, enough to know that we’re not alone.

The walls are etched with carvings, twisting shapes and symbols that seem to shift and ripple as I glance at them, almost as if they’re alive. And the corridor ahead…

I swallow hard. Shadows move just beyond the edges of the light, too large and too deliberate to be tricks of the eye. I can’t make out their shapes completely, but they’re there—lingering, waiting.

“They’re watching you,” Shade says, his voice low and gleeful in my mind. “They’re curious, but don’t worry—they’re not ready to pounce… yet.”

“Helpful as always,” I think back, keeping my tone even as I glance at Lorien walking beside me. He’s focused, his spear held ready, his gaze darting toward every faint sound.

“I think we’re fine so far,” I say aloud, trying to sound convincing. “Just… stay close and keep quiet.”

Kaida mutters something about how that’s “obvious,” and Veyron snickers softly, but I can feel the tension radiating off all of them.

The shadows slither along the walls, moving closer to the others. Their movements are slow, deliberate, almost hesitant—like they’re curious about us.

My stomach tightens as I focus on them, trying to make out details with my enhanced vision. But even with Shade’s help, I can’t see them clearly. They’re not human. Their forms are too low to the ground, too fluid. They move like animals, but their shapes shift unnaturally, their edges rippling as if they’re not entirely solid.

What the hell are they? I think, my fingers tightening on my bowstring.

“They’re something new,” Shade says, his voice smooth and intrigued. “This place is full of surprises, isn’t it?”

“Not the time,” I think back, my jaw clenching as I glance at the others. They’re completely unaware of the shadows inching closer, their attention focused on the path ahead.

Kaida holds her staff tightly, its dim glow still the only visible light. “This place is too quiet,” she mutters under her breath. “It’s like it’s waiting for something.”

“It’s not quiet,” I murmur, unable to tear my eyes away from the creeping shadows. “You just can’t hear it yet.”

Lorien turns to me, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Before I can respond, one of the shadows stops just behind Hrothgar, its form rippling as if preparing to lunge. My chest tightens, and I barely manage to keep my voice steady as I grip my bow.

“Everyone stop,” I say sharply, trying not to alarm them but failing to keep the edge out of my tone. “Don’t move.”

Hrothgar freezes, his axe lowering slightly as he glances back at me. “What is it?”

“They’re here,” I whisper, my eyes locked on the shifting forms around us. “We’re not alone.”

Kaida raises her staff, determination flickering in her eyes. “Let’s see if we can shed some light on this,” she mutters, her voice tight with concentration.

The glow of her staff flares brighter, pushing against the oppressive darkness. Though the light struggles to hold, it’s just enough to reveal what’s been stalking us.

The creatures emerge from the shadows, their forms barely tangible, rippling and shifting like living ink. Their bodies are low to the ground, sleek and animalistic, but their outlines are constantly shifting, refusing to settle into any one shape. Some have elongated limbs and claw-like protrusions, while others seem almost serpentine, their forms slithering along the walls and ceiling.

Their eyes—or what passes for eyes—glow faintly, pale and soulless, locked onto us with an unnatural intensity.

“What the hell are those?” Kaida says, her voice trembling as she steps back, the light of her staff falters like before making the creatures disappear.

Hrothgar tightens his grip on his axe, stepping protectively in front of Kaida. “They’re waiting for something,” he says, his voice a low rumble.

Lorien steps closer to me, his spear held at the ready. “They’re not attacking yet,” he murmurs. “Why?”

One of the creatures shifts, its rippling form turning toward me in the darkness. It tilts what might be its head, pale, ghostly eyes locking onto me for a moment. My breath catches as it seems to study me, then backs away slowly, its movements fluid and cautious.

“It knows I’m here,” Shade says, his voice unusually stern, a far cry from his usual playful tone.

“What does that mean?” I think back, my grip tightening on my bow as the creature disappears further into the shadows.

“It means they’re afraid of us—but not your friends,” Shade replies, his tone steady but edged with something almost like warning. “They can sense me. They know I’m not something they want to fight.”

I glance at the others, all tense and watching the shadows around them, completely unaware of the silent interaction happening in my mind. My heart pounds as I process Shade’s words.

“They’re afraid of me,” I whisper under my breath, my gaze darting to the other creatures still circling. “But not of them.”

Lorien looks at me sharply, his spear still ready. “What did you say?”

I hesitate, my chest tightening as I struggle to find the right words. “They’re hesitating,” I say finally, trying to keep my voice steady. “They’re… deciding if we’re worth the fight.”

Kaida glances nervously between me and the creatures, her staff glowing faintly in her trembling hands. “And what if they decide we’re not?”

The last bit of light from Kaida’s staff flickers out completely, plunging us into suffocating darkness. Kaida gasps, frantically trying to reignite the glow, but it doesn’t return.

“I—I don’t understand,” she stammers, her voice trembling. “It’s not working!”

The shadows around us shift, closing in on the others, their forms rippling as they prepare to attack. Pale, soulless eyes lock onto them, movements becoming more deliberate, more predatory.

My chest tightens, panic clawing at the edges of my mind. “Shade,” I think desperately, “if they’re scared of you—or us—can you maybe scare them off?”

Shade’s presence shifts in my mind, his tone calm but edged with a strange anticipation. “The darkness here will allow me to act without alerting your friends,” he says smoothly. “Consider this a favor. Don’t get used to it.”

Before I can respond, a wave of cold surges through me, like ice spreading from the center of my chest. The darkness around us deepens, almost vibrating with an unseen force, and the shadows pause in their movements.

Then, Shade makes his presence known.

A deep, guttural growl echoes through the corridor, low and resonant, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. The shadows recoil slightly, their movements becoming erratic as the growl builds into a horrifying, otherworldly roar that seems to shake the air itself.

The creatures hesitate, their pale eyes darting toward me before shifting to the unseen source of the sound. One by one, they back away, retreating into the walls, the ceiling, the floor—disappearing as quickly as they came.

The oppressive weight in the air begins to lift, and I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding in my ears.

Kaida gasps, clutching her staff tightly as it’s light returns slightly. “What just happened?”

“Whatever that sound was, it scared them off,” Lorien says, his voice calm but uneasy as he glances at me.

“If it scared them, I’d like not to meet it,” Veyron mutters, spinning one of his daggers between his fingers. His usual smirk is gone, replaced with sharp caution. “We should move. Now.”

Hrothgar nods, his axe still at the ready. “Agreed. This darkness isn’t natural. Whatever’s keeping it here might not stay quiet for long.”

Kaida tightens her grip on her staff, her breathing still shaky as she presses close to the group. “I can’t bring the light back fully,” she says softly, frustration and fear lacing her voice. “It’s like the magic’s being… smothered.”

“It’s fine,” I say quickly, trying to steady my voice. “We don’t need light to keep moving. Just stay close and don’t lose focus.”

Lorien steps beside me, his spear ready. “You okay?” he whispers under his breath.

“Yeah,” I whisper back, though my heart is still racing. “Let’s just get out of here.”

The group nods, and we begin moving forward again, the oppressive darkness still clinging to us like a second skin. I can see faint outlines of the corridor ahead, the walls twisting and shifting slightly, but I keep the information to myself.

The walls ahead continue to shift, bending and rippling in ways that make my stomach twist. It’s deliberate—calculated—and I’m certain I’m not supposed to notice what the castle is doing. It’s setting something up for us, I think, my grip tightening on my bow.

“Can anyone see anything?” Kaida asks, stumbling slightly in the dark. Her voice is sharp with frustration. “Veyron, you’re the rogue. Got any special darkness powers?”

“That’s not how it works,” Veyron snaps, his tone laced with annoyance. “Rogues hide in the dark. They don’t control it or whatever.”

Kaida rolls her eyes, glaring in his general direction. “I’m not stupid. I meant, can you see better in the dark, jerk?”

“A little bit,” he says with a shrug that I can somehow hear. “Probably not much more than anyone else, though.”

“He definitely can’t see as much as you,” Shade chimes in smugly, his voice sliding through my mind. “You’re leagues ahead, Artemis. Not that they’d understand.”

I ignore him, squinting ahead as the corridor stabilizes and a set of large, ornate doors materializes at the end. Their sudden appearance makes my chest tighten, but I don’t say anything, choosing instead to let the others notice them first.

Sure enough, Veyron’s eyes catch them first a bit later. “Look—doors,” he says, pointing ahead as the others turn to follow his gaze.

Kaida hesitates, her staff glowing faintly as she tries to illuminate the doors. “Those weren’t there before, were they?”

“No,” Lorien replies quietly, his spear shifting in his hands. “They definitely weren’t.”

Hrothgar steps forward, his massive frame cutting a path through the dark. “They’re here now,” he says gruffly. “Let’s see where they lead.”

I hesitate as I reach for one of the doors, my hand trembling slightly. The cold metal of the handle sends a shiver up my spine, and I take a deep breath before pulling it open.

The door creaks loudly, the sound echoing into the void. On the other side is nothing but darkness—thick, endless, and suffocating. I squint, trying to see past it, but it’s like staring into a void that refuses to give anything back.

I turn to the others, expecting them to be right behind me, but—

They’re gone.

“What the hell?” I whisper, my voice shaky as I step back from the door. My bow is instantly in my hands, drawn and ready, my eyes darting around the corridor. The torches are gone. The walls, the shifting carvings, even the faint glow from Kaida’s staff—everything has vanished.

“Lorien? Kaida?” I call out, my voice echoing eerily in the empty space. “Veyron? Hrothgar? Where are you?”

Nothing. Just silence.

“They’re not here,” Shade says, his tone calm but edged with something unsettling.

“What do you mean they’re not here?” I think back sharply, my heart pounding. “Where did they go?”

“The question isn’t where they went,” he replies smoothly, “it’s where you’ve gone.”

I swallow hard, glancing back at the door I just opened. The darkness beyond it feels alive, like it’s watching me, waiting for me to step through.

“It’s split you up,” Shade says, his voice low and calm in my mind. “This is likely where the mental part of the castle’s test comes into play.”

I clench my jaw, my knuckles whitening around my bow as I glance back toward the empty corridor. “Great,” I mutter under my breath. “So now I get to deal with this alone?”

“That’s the point,” Shade replies with a faint chuckle. “The castle wants to see how well you handle being cut off from your precious friends. No one to lean on, no one to help. Just you… and me.”

“Comforting,” I think bitterly, stepping away from the door and trying to steady my breathing. The silence presses down on me, heavier than before, and the darkness around me feels like it’s closing in.

“You’ll be fine,” Shade says, his tone turning almost mocking. “You’ve handled worse, haven’t you? Besides, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. “So what now?” I whisper, scanning the shadows around me. “Do I just… pick a direction and hope for the best?”

“That would be fun,” Shade muses. “But something tells me this test will find you, no matter where you go. Just keep walking, Artemis. You’ll know it when you see it.”

I grit my teeth, gripping my bow tightly as I turn back toward the endless corridor ahead. Whatever this test is, whatever the castle’s trying to throw at me… I’ll deal with it. I have to.

Taking a deep breath, I step forward into the oppressive darkness, the sound of my own footsteps echoing in the silence.

The vision Shade granted me is gone, and now it’s like I’m walking in a void—a place of pure, unrelenting darkness. My steps echo softly in the oppressive silence, but I can’t even see the ground beneath me anymore. There’s nothing to orient myself, no walls, no doors, no shapes. Just endless black.

I call out occasionally, my voice trembling as I shout the names of the others. “Kaida? Lorien? Veyron? Hrothgar?”

Each time, my voice feels swallowed by the void, dissipating into nothing. No responses come, just the hollow sound of my own words echoing back at me.

“How long have I been walking?” I mutter to myself, the panic rising in my chest as the darkness starts to feel like it’s pressing closer. Minutes? Hours? I can’t tell anymore.

“Time works differently in places like this,” Shade says suddenly, his voice faint and distant, like it’s barely reaching me now.

“What does that mean?” I think desperately, my grip on my bow tightening as I glance around.

No answer. His presence is there, but it’s weaker—muted, like it’s being blocked or suppressed.

The isolation is suffocating. My heart races as I force myself to keep moving, each step feeling heavier than the last. My breaths are shallow, my hands trembling as I tighten my grip on my bow.

“Where are they?” I whisper to myself, my voice barely audible. “Where am I?”

I stop for a moment, straining to hear anything—a sound, a movement, anything that might anchor me to reality. But the void remains silent.

I grit my teeth, trying to push back the panic clawing at me. If this is the test, then it’s meant to make me feel like this. It’s meant to break me. I can’t let it.

I take another step forward, and then another, forcing myself to keep going despite the crushing weight of the darkness. I’ll find them. I have to.

“Shade?” I whisper, my voice shaky as I glance around, though there’s nothing to see. “Shade?”

The silence that follows is deafening. No sarcastic reply, no teasing quip—nothing. My heart sinks as the weight of the void presses harder against me.

“What’s going on?” I mutter to myself, my breath catching as my chest tightens. Shade’s always been there, whether I wanted him to be or not. But now? Now there’s nothing.

The thought sends a chill through me. He was always so connected to me. If he’s gone… does that mean this place is cutting me off from him too?

I stop walking for a moment, gripping my bow so tightly my knuckles ache. “Shade?” I try again, louder this time, my voice echoing into the emptiness.

Still no response.

My pulse quickens, and for the first time, I realize just how much I’ve relied on him. For all his annoying comments and cryptic warnings, he’s been a constant presence in this nightmare of a world for so long. Now, without him, the void feels more suffocating than ever.

As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve gotten used to Shade always being there. His constant comments, his sarcasm, even his sinister little suggestions—it’s been a part of my mind for so long that the absence now feels… wrong.

I can still slightly feel his presence, like a faint hum just at the edge of my consciousness, but it’s so faint it might as well not even be there. Almost nonexistent.

The silence presses against me like a weight, and I can feel my resolve slipping. “Hello?!” I call out, my voice cracking slightly as it echoes into the endless darkness. “Is anyone there?!”

The void doesn’t answer. There’s no response, no movement, just the hollow sound of my own voice bouncing back at me.

I grit my teeth, my bow trembling in my hands. “Kaida! Lorien! Hrothgar! Veyron!” I shout, louder this time, desperation creeping into my voice. “Please! Someone answer me!”

Nothing.

My breathing grows shallow, panic clawing at the edges of my mind. I grip my bow tighter, taking a shaky step forward. “This is the test,” I whisper to myself, my voice trembling. “This is what it wants. To break me. To make me feel alone.”

But even knowing that doesn’t help. The silence is unbearable, and the faint hum of Shade’s presence only makes the emptiness worse.

I take another step, and then another, forcing myself to move despite the fear and the crushing loneliness. “Hello?!” I try again, my voice shaking. “Please… someone…”

Alone.

The word keeps echoing in my mind, taunting me, digging into old wounds I thought I’d buried. Isn’t that how it always ends up? Me, by myself, left behind while everything else moves on?

But I shake my head, my breath trembling. “No,” I whisper to myself, clutching my bow tighter. “I—I have friends now. Real friends. They care about me. They trust me. I just… I just have to find them.”

My voice grows louder, desperate. “Guys?! Hello?! Lorien! Kaida! Hrothgar! Veyron!”

The sound of my shouts echoes into the void, but it feels hollow, like even my own voice is being swallowed by the emptiness. My chest tightens, and I force myself to keep walking, even though I can’t tell if I’m going forward, backward, or in circles.

“It’s all empty,” I mutter, my voice cracking. The darkness feels endless, suffocating, as if the void itself is trying to consume me. My footsteps sound too loud, too small against the vast silence pressing in around me.

My heart pounds, panic creeping into the edges of my mind. “They’re out there,” I tell myself, trying to hold onto that thought. “I’m not alone. I just have to keep moving. I just have to find them.”

But the doubt lingers, gnawing at me with every step. What if I can’t? What if they’re gone, and I’m stuck here? Just me… and this emptiness?

I shake the thought away, clenching my jaw as I push forward into the void. They’re out there. I’ll find them. I have to.

I stop mid-step as I feel something wet beneath my foot. My heart skips a beat, and I glance down instinctively.

Wait. What?

I look down and freeze. Despite the pure, consuming darkness all around me, I can see myself. My hands, my legs… everything about me is visible, clear and sharp, glowing faintly as if lit from within.

And that’s when I realize—my bow is gone. So are my clothes, my armor, everything I’ve been carrying. I’m just… me. Bare and vulnerable in this endless void.

“When did that happen?” I whisper, my voice trembling as I glance around, panic rising in my chest.

I move my feet slightly, feeling the wetness squish beneath me, but the darkness surrounding me refuses to give me a clue as to what it is. It clings to my feet like cold sludge, sticky and heavy, but I can’t see it.

“Shade?” I think desperately, but there’s still no answer. My stomach churns, fear knotting itself tighter as I try to process what’s happening.

What is this? What am I standing in? Why can I see myself but nothing else?

I take a shaky breath, forcing myself to focus. “It’s just another test,” I mutter under my breath, though the words feel hollow. “It’s trying to get in my head. That’s all this is.”

But my voice wavers, and I can’t ignore the cold, wet sensation seeping up around my ankles, as if the darkness itself is trying to pull me down.

I try to step back, to pull myself free, but whatever this wet, sticky substance is, it won’t let me go. The more I struggle, the tighter it clings to me, like it’s alive—like it’s hungry.

“Let go!” I shout, my voice cracking as I dig my feet in, trying to find any kind of traction. But it’s useless. The darkness pulls harder, and before I know it, the cold wetness has climbed up to my waist.

I flail desperately, my arms thrashing in the air, hoping to grab onto something, anything to anchor myself, but there’s nothing. Just the void, endless and uncaring, swallowing me whole.

“Shade!” I scream, my voice frantic as I feel myself sinking further. “Help me! Someone—please!”

But there’s no response. No Shade, no Lorien, no Kaida. Just the sickening pull of the darkness, relentless and unyielding.

My breathing turns erratic as I claw at the air, my fingers slipping against nothingness. The wet substance clings to my skin like ice, rising steadily, inch by inch, as my panic builds.

“Don’t do this,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I struggle harder, tears stinging my eyes. “Not like this… I can’t die like this!”

But the void doesn’t care. It pulls, and I sink deeper, helpless to stop it.

Then, I’m submerged.

The cold, wet darkness swallows me whole, and yet… I can still see myself, glowing faintly in the suffocating void. Everything else is gone—no ground, no walls, no sky. Just endless black pressing against me from all sides.

I try to scream, but no sound escapes my lips. It’s like the void has stolen my voice, stolen everything from me.

I thrash and flail, but it’s like I’m suspended in nothingness. I can’t feel the wetness anymore, can’t feel anything. No air, no weight—just this hollow, oppressive emptiness.

Is this how it ends? The thought sends a spike of terror through me. Alone in this void, swallowed by nothingness? Forgotten, with no one to pull me back?

Alone. Unseen. Forgotten.

I try to look at myself again, hoping for even the faint glow I’d seen before, but… nothing. There’s no light, no reflection, no me. Just the endless black.

Am I part of the darkness now? The thought hits me like a dagger, sharp and cold. Am I dead?

My mind races, grasping for some kind of logic, some explanation for what’s happening. Is this still the test? Or did I fail somehow? Did it break me?

I can’t feel anything—not the ground, not my skin, not even the weight of my own presence. It’s like I’ve been erased, dissolved into the void.

The silence is deafening, oppressive. My thoughts spiral, each one darker than the last. Was this the plan all along? To make me vanish? To leave me alone until there’s nothing left of me?

But then, a faint flicker—so faint I almost don’t notice it—crosses the edges of my mind. It’s like a tiny spark of warmth, distant and fleeting, but there.

I cling to it desperately, willing it to grow, to become something I can reach. Please, I think, my thoughts trembling. Please, don’t let this be the end.

Suddenly, the darkness is gone.

I blink, my breath hitching as a soft light washes over me. I’m standing in a meadow—a familiar one. The same meadow from my dreams. The tall grass sways gently in a breeze I can feel against my skin, and the warm sunlight filters through the canopy of scattered trees around me.

I glance down quickly, my heart pounding. My body is back. My hands, my arms, my legs… they’re all here. I can see myself again.

A shaky sigh of relief escapes me as I clutch my chest, my breathing uneven. “I’m not dead…” I whisper, the words almost sounding foreign after the suffocating silence of the void. “I think.”

The softness of the meadow is surreal, a stark contrast to the cold, nothingness I’d been trapped in just moments ago. The flowers around me bloom in vibrant colors—reds, yellows, and blues—so vivid they almost hurt to look at after the endless black.

I turn slowly, taking in the scene, but my mind is still racing. Is this real? Or is this another part of the test?

“Hello?” I call out, my voice trembling slightly as it carries into the peaceful quiet. There’s no answer, just the sound of the breeze and the faint rustle of the grass.

I press my hand against my chest, grounding myself as I try to think. The void was meant to break me, to make me give up. But this… what is this? A reprieve? A trick?

Even though it feels warm and safe, I can’t shake the unease prickling at the back of my mind. The castle wouldn’t let me off that easy… would it?

This meadow… it’s the one Shade showed me originally.

The tall grass, the gentle breeze, the warmth of the sunlight—it’s all the same. Exactly the same. I remember his voice, calm and teasing, telling me this was what I wanted. The cabin, Lorien, the peace of staying here forever.

And then it was in my dreams. This meadow keeps coming back, vivid and unchanging.

If Shade was right, I think, my breath catching as I turn in place, taking it all in. Maybe this is why I’m here. Maybe the castle pulled this from my mind.

I look around, my heart pounding as I spot the distant outline of the cabin nestled among the trees. It’s exactly as I remember, down to the faint smoke curling from its chimney. Everything is perfect, serene—too perfect.

“It can’t be real,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I take a shaky step forward. “This is the exact same… everything.”

The warmth of the sun brushes my skin, and the scent of wildflowers fills the air, but instead of comfort, unease begins to creep in. My fingers tighten into fists as I try to ground myself.

“This is a trick,” I say aloud, as if speaking it will make it true. “It has to be. The castle is testing me again.”

But as I stare at the cabin in the distance, a part of me hesitates. What if it’s not? What if this is real, and I’m throwing it away because I’m too afraid to believe it?

The thought twists in my chest, and I clench my jaw. No. I can’t trust this. Not yet.

I take a deep breath and start walking toward the cabin, my footsteps soft against the grass. If this is another test, I’ll figure it out.

I press my hands against the cabin door, pushing and pulling, but it won’t budge. It feels solid, unyielding, like it’s meant to keep me out. My heart races as frustration bubbles up inside me, and I glance over to the window, drawn by the faint sounds of laughter.

I step closer, peering inside—and my breath catches.

Kaida and Veyron are sitting together on a couch, their faces lit with joy as they laugh at something unheard. Kaida has a child in her lap—a little girl with her red hair. Is it hers?

My eyes shift, landing on Hrothgar sitting with a woman and another child. The woman feels familiar somehow, and my chest tightens as I realize—it’s Mia. How is she here? She’s supposed to be in the real world, waiting for him. Yet there she is, holding his hand, her other arm wrapped around a boy who’s clearly their child.

And then I see Lyra. She’s sitting near them, smiling softly, looking just as she did the day she disappeared. Her transformation, the heart, the disappearance—it’s all as if it never happened. She looks… happy.

But what makes me freeze entirely is what I see next.

Lorien is sitting on the other side of the room, his arm draped over someone’s shoulder. A woman. No, not just any woman—me. Or… Artemis, a version of me.

My stomach twists as I take in the sight. She—I—am visibly pregnant, her hands resting on her stomach with a quiet smile. Lorien leans closer to her, and I catch the faint glint of a ring on her finger. My finger.

I blink rapidly, my chest tightening further as I glance back at Kaida. She and Veyron are holding hands now, matching rings shining faintly on their fingers.

“What’s happening?” I whisper, my voice trembling as I press closer to the window. “What does this mean?”

The scene is perfect. Too perfect. Everyone is happy, together. They’ve all moved on, built lives. And me… I’m part of it, too. Married. A family. A future.

But it doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real.

My hand trembles as I rest it against the glass, my reflection faint against the perfect scene inside. Is this what I want? Is this what could be? Is this another trick?

“Is this supposed to be the future?” I mutter aloud, my voice barely above a whisper. My hand trembles against the glass as I stare at the scene inside, unable to tear my eyes away from it.

I see Lorien again, leaning closer to the pregnant me—no, her. The thought makes my stomach twist. I like Lorien. I like him a lot. But… getting married? Having a kid? I don’t think I could ever do that.

But then my gaze shifts to the others. Kaida and Veyron, rings on their fingers, their child in her lap. Hrothgar with Mia and their family, everyone so happy, like nothing in this nightmarish place ever happened.

My mind races, questions spiraling out of control. Is this what he meant when he said we’d leave here different? That the person we are now wouldn’t be the person who leaves? Is this what’s going to happen to me?

My chest tightens as I shake my head, backing away from the window slightly. “No,” I mutter, my voice rising. “We weren’t supposed to see this. We weren’t supposed to end up here. We were supposed to get answers—answers on how to escape.”

But even as I say it, the scene inside keeps pulling at me, whispering promises I don’t know if I want to hear. This is what you want, it seems to say. This is what could be.

I clench my fists, my heart pounding. “This isn’t real,” I whisper harshly, trying to convince myself. “It can’t be real. It’s just the castle messing with me again.”

But the thought lingers, stubborn and unrelenting: What if it’s not?

The door creaks open behind me, its sound cutting through the swirling chaos in my mind. I freeze, staring at it, my heart pounding.

I take a hesitant step toward the door, the weight of what I just saw still heavy in my chest. My hand trembles as I reach for the handle, the urge to turn back warring with the pull of curiosity.

“This isn’t real,” I whisper to myself again, but my voice is weak.

Before I can second-guess myself, I open the door fully, stepping inside.

The warmth hits me immediately. The sound of soft laughter, the smell of woodsmoke and fresh bread, the cozy hum of life—it’s overwhelming.

But what really catches me off guard is… I’m no longer standing.

I’m sitting.

I glance around, my breath catching as I realize where I am. I’m sitting in the exact spot I saw myself moments before, on the couch next to Lorien. His arm rests lightly over my shoulders, his touch warm and familiar. My hands are on my stomach, and I can feel the faint weight beneath them—I’m pregnant.

I stiffen, panic surging through me as I look around the cabin. It’s exactly as I saw through the window. Kaida and Veyron are laughing, their hands entwined, Kaida’s child giggling in her lap. Hrothgar is at the table with Mia and their son, his deep laugh rumbling softly as they talk. Lyra sits nearby, calm and serene, as if she’s never been gone.

I glance back at Lorien, his soft smile pulling at my heart in a way I’m not ready for. “You’re quiet,” he says, his tone warm and teasing, like this is all completely normal.

My chest tightens, my mind racing. This can’t be real. It’s just another trick. It’s not me—it’s not us.

But as I stare into his kind, steady eyes, it’s hard to hold onto that certainty.

“Just thinking about names,” I hear a voice say.

It’s my voice. But I didn’t say it. I didn’t choose to say it.

My heart skips a beat, my chest tightening as I try to process what just happened. The words left my mouth, but it wasn’t me—it was as if someone else was speaking for me, using my voice, my body.

Lorien smiles softly beside me, his hand brushing mine in a way that feels so natural it’s almost unsettling. “Names, huh?” he says warmly. “Any ideas yet?”

I try to respond, to say anything, but nothing comes out. It’s like my voice has been stolen from me again, leaving me trapped inside myself, forced to watch this play out like some surreal dream.

My hands rest on my stomach, unmoving, as if they belong to someone else entirely. What is happening? I think frantically, my mind racing. Why can’t I stop this?

The scene around me feels too real, too vivid—the warmth of Lorien’s arm, the sound of Kaida’s laughter, the faint scent of bread baking in the background. It’s all so perfect, yet it feels wrong.

This isn’t me. This isn’t us. I didn’t choose this, I think desperately, my thoughts spiraling as I struggle to regain control.

But the cabin stays calm and peaceful, oblivious to the storm raging inside my mind. Lorien squeezes my hand gently, his smile never wavering. “Well, we’ve got time,” he says. “No rush, right?”

I can feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as I fight against the invisible force holding me here. This can’t be real… it’s not real… it’s not me.

“Stop. Stop it!” I shout, my voice finally breaking free as I wrench my hands off my stomach, trembling.

Lorien’s smile fades instantly, concern flashing in his eyes. “Artemis, what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice calm but filled with worry. He reaches for me, but I pull back, shaking my head furiously.

“This isn’t real!” I yell, my breathing uneven as I glance around the cabin, the perfect, idyllic scene now suffocating. “Stop messing with my head!”

Everyone freezes. Kaida, Veyron, Hrothgar, Lyra—they all turn to look at me, their faces painted with confusion and unease.

“Artemis?” Kaida says softly, her brows knitting together. “What are you talking about? Of course this is real.”

“No!” I snap, my voice cracking. “It’s not! None of this is real. It’s… it’s some kind of trick, some kind of test!”

Lorien stands, reaching for me again, his movements slow and deliberate, as if trying not to spook me. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says gently. “You’re safe. We’re here. Just… breathe, okay?”

But his words only make the knot in my chest tighten further. I stumble back, away from him, away from all of them. My head spins as I try to piece together what’s happening, the warmth and perfection of the scene around me clashing violently with the cold, sinking feeling in my gut.

“I’m not staying here,” I whisper, my voice trembling but firm. “This isn’t real, and I’m not going to let it trap me.”

Lorien’s expression falters, a shadow of pain crossing his face. “Artemis…”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out his voice, their faces, everything. “Just stop!” I shout, my fists clenching. “Stop it! Show me the truth!”

“I think she’s having another memory lapse,” Kaida says, her voice laced with worry. I open my eyes to see her moving closer, the child still in her arms but no longer laughing. Her expression is soft, concerned. “Artemis, what do you remember?”

Her question hits me like a wave, and I stagger, my breath catching in my throat.

“What I…?” I trail off, my voice trembling as I glance at Lorien, his hand still outstretched toward me, his face a mask of gentle concern. My eyes flick to Kaida, then to Veyron, Hrothgar, Lyra—all of them looking at me like I’m the one who’s wrong.

“Is it real?” I whisper, the words barely audible as my thoughts spiral out of control. It can’t be real, right? But… it feels real. It feels so real.

Kaida steps closer, her voice soft and soothing. “Artemis, it’s okay,” she says. “You’re safe. We’re here. Just tell us what you’re thinking.”

I shake my head, clutching at my hair as the room spins around me. “I don’t… I don’t know,” I stammer, my voice breaking. “I don’t know what’s real anymore!”

Lorien moves closer, his voice calm but firm. “Artemis, look at me,” he says, his tone grounding. I meet his eyes, and the warmth in them almost makes me crumble. “We’re here. You’re here. Whatever you’re feeling, we’ll figure it out together.”

My chest tightens, my breath coming in short gasps as I struggle to find the truth in their words. Is this what the castle wants? For me to give in, to believe this? Or… is this real?

“I need to know,” I whisper, my voice cracking as tears blur my vision. “I need to know what’s real.”

“Please,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I back further away from them. “Just stop. Stop messing with my head. I… I can’t do this.”

Kaida’s expression softens, and she steps closer, cradling the child in her arms as if to reassure me. “Artemis,” she says gently, her voice calm and steady. “We’re not messing with you. It’s okay. Whatever you’re feeling, we’ll help you through it.”

“No!” I shout, my voice breaking as I clutch my head. “You don’t understand! This isn’t real! It can’t be!”

Lorien takes another step toward me, his hand reaching out cautiously. “Artemis, just breathe,” he says softly. “You’re safe. Whatever you think is happening, we’ll figure it out.”

I shake my head furiously, tears streaming down my face. “No! You don’t get it!” I cry. “This isn’t real! It’s too perfect—too… wrong!”

The room feels smaller, tighter, the warmth and joy suffocating me. Every smiling face, every soothing word only drives the panic deeper into my chest.

“Please,” I whisper again, my voice cracking as I look around at all of them. “Just stop. Stop pretending. I can’t take it anymore.”

Hrothgar steps forward, his voice steady but concerned. “Artemis, you’ve been through a lot. Maybe you’re just overwhelmed—”

“No!” I snap, my fists clenching. “I’m not overwhelmed! I’m trapped! This is a test—it has to be!”

The room goes silent, everyone staring at me with expressions of shock, worry, and confusion. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for something—anything—to happen. For the truth to reveal itself. For this illusion to shatter.

But it doesn’t. The cabin remains warm and calm, everyone around me looking as real and alive as ever. My chest tightens further as I collapse to my knees, trembling.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I can’t…”

“Could you guys give us a moment?” Lorien says, his voice steady but firm as he glances at the others.

Kaida hesitates, her eyes darting between me and Lorien. “Are you sure?” she asks, her voice soft but laced with worry.

“I’m sure,” Lorien replies, his gaze never leaving mine. There’s a calmness in his voice, a quiet determination that almost makes me want to believe everything’s fine.

Hrothgar gives a small nod, placing a hand on Kaida’s shoulder. “Come on,” he rumbles gently. “Let’s give them space.”

Kaida glances back one last time, her expression filled with concern, before stepping away with the rest of them.

The room feels quieter now, but the weight in my chest doesn’t ease. I can’t bring myself to look up, my hands trembling as they clutch my knees.

Lorien kneels in front of me, his voice low and soft. “Artemis,” he says, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, my voice shaking as I fight back tears. “I don’t know what’s real anymore. This—this can’t be real. It’s too perfect. It’s… wrong.”

His brows knit together, his hand resting lightly on my arm. “Why do you think it’s wrong?” he asks, his tone gentle, like he’s trying not to scare me further.

“Because it’s everything,” I choke out. “Everything I could ever… and I didn’t... It’s just here, like magic, like nothing happened before. And that’s not how this works. It’s not. I don’t even know if I…”

Lorien nods slowly, his hand tightening slightly on my arm. “You’ve been through a lot,” he says quietly. “It makes sense that you’d feel… off. But what if this is real? What if we really made it through everything, and now we’re here?”

I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “It can’t be. It can’t…” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “This place—this castle—it’s testing me. It’s trying to break me. That’s all this is. It has to be.”

“Artemis,” Lorien says gently, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “We haven’t been in that castle for years. We made it out. We found you in the dungeon chamber, remember?”

I blink, confusion washing over me as his words sink in. “We… did?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Yes,” he says, his hand brushing against my cheek. His touch is soft, and only then do I realize he’s wiping away tears I didn’t even know were there. “We found Lyra. We even made it out of this world.”

My heart pounds, my thoughts spiraling. “What?” I manage to stammer. “How… how are we here then?”

Lorien’s hand moves to hold mine, his grip firm and reassuring. “We came back,” he says simply, his eyes locked on mine. “We decided we wanted to stay.”

“Stay?” I echo, my voice trembling as my chest tightens. “Why would we…?”

“You decided to stay with me,” he says, his voice filled with quiet certainty. He squeezes my hand gently, his gaze unwavering. “You chose this life, Artemis. With me.”

The weight of his words feels like a boulder pressing down on me, crushing my ability to think clearly. “But… I don’t remember,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I don’t remember any of that. How could I have chosen this if I don’t remember?”

Lorien leans closer, his other hand resting gently on my knee. “You’ve been through so much,” he says softly. “It’s not surprising that some of it feels… blurry. But this? Us?” He gestures to the cabin, to the life laid out before me. “This is real. This is ours.”

I stare at him, my heart aching with the longing to believe him, but something deep inside me still whispers that it’s wrong. That it doesn’t make sense.

“Lorien…” I start, my voice shaking, “if this is real, why does it feel like I’m missing something? Like I don’t belong here?”

His eyes soften, a faint sadness flickering across his face. “Because you’re scared,” he says. “You’ve been fighting for so long, you don’t know how to stop. But you don’t have to fight anymore, Artemis. You can just… be.”

I look into his eyes, the warmth and sincerity in them pulling at me. But the doubt in my chest only grows. Is this real? Did I really choose this? Or is this another trick?

“Remember when we got married, Artemis?” Lorien says softly, his voice steady but filled with warmth. “I promised you I’d never let you get hurt again. Not after everything you went through.”

His words hit me like a blow to the chest. I went through? My mind stumbles over the thought, trying to piece it together.

“What… what did I go through?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

Lorien tilts his head slightly, concern flashing across his face. “Artemis, you know. Everything we endured—the trials, the castle, the monsters. All of it. I promised I’d keep you safe after that. Always.”

My heart races, panic and confusion swirling in my chest. “If… if this is real,” I say, my voice cracking, “why don’t I remember? Why can’t I remember any of it?”

I close my eyes, trembling as I dig deep into my mind, searching desperately for something—anything—to prove whether this is real or not. Memories, sensations, feelings. But no matter how hard I try, there’s only a void where the truth should be.

Fragments of the past flash faintly in my mind—the suffocating darkness, the shadowy figures, the weight of the bow in my hand. The castle. The endless fight to survive.

But nothing of this. Nothing of the meadow, the cabin, the wedding Lorien speaks of, or the child growing inside me. It’s like this life was built from nothing, a perfect illusion.

Tears sting my eyes as I shake my head, my hands trembling. “I can’t… I can’t remember,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Lorien, if this is real, why does it feel like it’s not mine? Like I’m not supposed to be here?”

He reaches for me again, his voice soothing. “Artemis, you are supposed to be here. This is your life—our life. You’ve just forgotten. But it doesn’t matter if you remember or not. You’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”

His words should comfort me, but they only make the knot in my chest tighten. Why can’t I trust this? Why can’t I believe him?

I open my eyes, my tears falling freely as I meet his gaze. “I want to believe you,” I whisper. “I really do. But… I don’t know if I can.”

“Artemis, please,” Lorien says, his voice full of quiet desperation. “Trust me. This happens sometimes, but we’re safe. You’re safe. I’m here for you, always. Just stay calm… don’t do anything that might hurt her.”

“Hurt her?” I echo, the words catching in my throat. And then it hits me—the baby.

My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, trembling slightly as the realization washes over me. It’s a girl.

“We’re… we’re having a girl?” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them. My voice is fragile, filled with equal parts wonder and disbelief.

Lorien’s expression softens, his hand gently covering mine on my stomach. “Yes,” he says quietly, his smile returning, warm and full of love. “We’re having a girl. You chose the name. Don’t you remember?”

I shake my head slowly, my chest tightening as tears blur my vision. “I did? No… I don’t,” I admit, my voice breaking. “I don’t remember anything about her… about this.”

“It’s okay,” he says, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “It doesn’t matter if you remember right now. What matters is that we’re together. We’ve built this life, and we’ve fought so hard to get here. You just need time.”

I stare at him, his words cutting through me like a blade. I want to believe him—more than anything, I want to believe this is real. That I’m safe, that we made it, that this perfect life is ours. But the doubt still gnaws at me, a relentless whisper in the back of my mind.

“We’re having a girl,” I whisper again, my hand trembling as it rests on my stomach. The thought feels so surreal, so impossible, yet… part of me wants it to be true. “Lorien… what if I can’t remember? What if I never remember?”

His grip on my hand tightens slightly, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Then I’ll remind you every day,” he says softly. “Because you don’t have to carry this alone anymore, Artemis. You have me. You have all of us.”

“Okay,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I meet Lorien’s steady gaze. “I believe you.”

For a moment, his expression softens completely, the worry in his eyes replaced with quiet relief. He squeezes my hand gently, his warmth grounding me.

But even as I say the words, my thoughts swirl. For her… I think, my hand brushing over my stomach. No one wants a crazy mom like this. I just need to remember. That’s all. If I can remember everything, it’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.

“You’re doing great,” Lorien says softly, his voice calm and reassuring. “Just take it one step at a time. I’m here, Artemis. Always.”

“Where… where is this place?” I ask, my voice shaking as I hold my stomach, as if it can somehow anchor me. “Remind me. Maybe it’ll help. Remind me of everything—us getting married, finding a way out, coming back, making this life… all of it.”

Lorien nods slowly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’ll remind you. From the beginning.”

He takes a deep breath, his gaze steady and warm as he looks at me. “After we made it through the castle, we found Lyra in a dungeon chamber. She was different, stronger, but it was still her. And we kept going, fighting our way out of that cursed place until we found the exit.”

I listen intently, trying to pull pieces of the story into place, but it still feels distant, like hearing about someone else’s life.

“When we left, we were back in the real world,” he continues, his voice steady but quiet. “It was strange at first, after everything we went through. But we stayed close—all of us. We stuck together, even when it felt like we couldn’t move on. None of us wanted to leave what we built behind. Not really.”

I nod slowly, still clutching my stomach. “And… then we came back?”

“Yes,” Lorien says, his smile faint but genuine. “It was your idea, actually. You said the world we’d left behind—the one we fought so hard to survive in—felt more like home than anything else ever had. You said this world gave us purpose. A new beginning. So, we came back. Together.”

I blink, my throat tightening as I try to process his words. “And… we got married?”

Lorien nods, his hand tightening around mine. “We did. It was beautiful. Simple, but perfect. You told me that after everything we went through, you just wanted something real, something ours.”

I glance down at my stomach, tears welling in my eyes. “And now… her?”

His gaze softens, and he leans closer, resting his forehead lightly against mine. “Now her,” he whispers. “We’ve built this life, Artemis. And I promise, no matter what, I’ll help you remember it. I’ll help you remember us.”

I bite my lip, tears slipping down my cheeks as I nod. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll try. For her. For us.”

“Wait,” I whisper suddenly, a chill creeping up my spine. “Where’s Shade?”

Lorien’s expression shifts to confusion, his brow furrowing as he leans back slightly. “Shade?” he repeats, tilting his head. “What are you talking about?”

My heart races as I look around the room, scanning every corner, every shadow, expecting to feel that familiar, unsettling presence in the back of my mind. But there’s nothing. No snarky comment, no cryptic reply—just silence.

“Shade,” I say again, more urgently. “The shadow inside me—the one that’s been with me since the dungeon. The one that’s always there.”

Lorien’s confusion deepens, and he shakes his head slowly. “Artemis, I… I don’t know what you mean. There’s never been a ‘Shade.’”

I blink, my chest tightening as I try to process his words. “No,” I say quickly, my voice trembling. “He’s real. He’s been with me this whole time, helping me. He’s… part of me.”

Lorien reaches for my hand again, his tone soft but firm. “Artemis, listen to me. Maybe this is just part of what you’re trying to remember, but there’s no shadow inside you. There’s just you.”

I pull my hand away, shaking my head as panic starts to build in my chest. “No, you don’t understand. He was there—he is there. He’s part of why I survived everything! Why… why would he be gone now?”

Lorien looks at me with a mixture of concern and sorrow, his voice dropping to a soothing whisper. “Artemis, he was never there. It was always you—your strength, your will to survive. You don’t need a shadow to make you whole.”

His words swirl in my mind, clashing with everything I’ve known, everything I’ve felt. No Shade? The thought feels wrong, impossible.

“Not… real.”

The words drift faintly in the back of my mind, weak and strained, barely more than a whisper. My breath catches, and I freeze.

“Shade?” I whisper, my voice trembling as I clutch my head. “Shade, is that you?”

Lorien’s face twists in concern, and he reaches for me again. “Artemis, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”

But I can barely hear him over the pounding in my chest. The words echo again, faint but unmistakable.

“Not… real…”

My heart races as I search for the presence I thought I’d lost, the one I’ve been so used to hearing in my head. “Shade, you’re there,” I think desperately, gripping the edge of the couch. “What’s not real? This place? Them? What do you mean?”

There’s a long silence, and for a moment, I think I’ve imagined it. Then, faint and barely audible, the voice comes again, weaker than before.

“Don’t… believe… it…”

The knot in my chest tightens, panic surging as I look around the room. Lorien is still watching me, his hand on my shoulder, but his words sound distant, muffled, like I’m underwater.

“Shade,” I think again, the desperation clear. “If you’re here, if this isn’t real, tell me—show me.”

But the voice fades entirely, leaving me with only the lingering weight of its warning. My eyes dart back to Lorien, to the cabin, to everything around me. The warmth, the happiness, the perfection—it all feels heavier now, like it’s pressing down on me.

Not real.

“Artemis,” Lorien says softly, his hand tightening on my shoulder. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“You’re not Lorien,” I say, my voice trembling as I back away, my hands clenching into fists. “Get away from me.”

Lorien’s face twists in shock, then hurt, and he reaches toward me, his voice calm but pleading. “Artemis, calm down. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m Lorien. I’m me. Please, just—”

“No!” I snap, shaking my head furiously as I move toward the door. “You’re not! I don’t know what you are, but you’re not him!”

“Stop her,” Lorien says sharply, his tone suddenly commanding.

Before I can react, the others burst into the room. Kaida rushes in, her face a mix of worry and confusion. “Artemis, what’s going on? What are you doing?”

Hrothgar steps forward, his towering frame blocking part of the door as his deep voice rumbles, “Artemis, let’s just talk about this.”

Veyron stands near the corner, his daggers drawn but held low, his sharp eyes narrowing at me. “What’s the plan here, Artemis?” he asks, his tone calm but wary.

I glance around the room, my chest heaving as panic rises. My back presses against the door, my trembling hand fumbling for the handle.

“You’re not real,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “None of this is real. You’re all just… part of it.”

“Artemis,” Kaida says softly, stepping closer, her hands raised in a calming gesture. “You’re scaring us. Please, let’s just sit down and talk. We can help you.”

“No,” I choke out, tears blurring my vision. “You can’t help me because you’re not real! None of you are!”

The room feels suffocating now, the walls closing in as I twist the door handle behind me. I have to get out of here.

“Don’t make me stop you,” Veyron says, his voice low, almost like a warning.

I meet his sharp gaze for a moment before yanking the door open and bolting into the cold air beyond.

A sharp, searing pain shoots through my back as I run, forcing a cry from my lips. I stumble, my hand instinctively reaching behind me, but all I feel is wetness. Blood.

I whip my head around, breathless and panicked, and see them chasing me—Kaida, Hrothgar, Veyron, Lorien. Their faces are tense, determined, no longer the warm, comforting expressions I knew.

“This isn’t real,” I whisper to myself, my voice shaking as I push forward, my body screaming in protest. “They would never attack me. What is this place? What’s happening?”

The blood runs freely down my back, soaking into my tunic, each step making me feel weaker. My legs threaten to give out beneath me, and every breath feels harder than the last.

I finally duck behind a tree, crouching low to the ground as I try to catch my breath. The cold air stings my lungs, the pain in my back throbbing in time with my heartbeat.

My trembling hand presses against my stomach, and a wave of fear crashes over me. The baby… The thought is enough to make tears spill from my eyes.

I lean against the rough bark of the tree, my vision swimming as I try to think, to figure out what’s happening. “This can’t be real,” I mutter again, my voice trembling. “They wouldn’t hurt me. They wouldn’t…”

The sounds of their footsteps crunching through the underbrush grow closer, and I press myself tighter against the tree, holding my breath. I can’t let them find me. I can’t…

But I feel so weak. The blood loss, the pain, and the pregnancy all work against me, sapping my strength. My thoughts grow hazy, and I fight to stay conscious, my hand still protectively over my stomach. Shade… if you’re still there… please… help me.

I wait, my breath shallow and trembling, but Shade doesn’t respond. He’s silent, completely absent, as if something’s forcing him into submission—or worse, as if he was never real to begin with.

A chill runs through me as I hear Lorien’s voice cutting through the stillness. It’s familiar, but something about it feels off. There’s an odd, almost sing-song tone to his words that makes my skin crawl.

“Artemis,” he calls, his voice sweet yet wrong. “Come out. We don’t want to hurt you, but you need to come back.”

I press my back tighter against the tree, biting my lip to keep quiet. My body screams at me to stop moving, to rest, but I don’t listen. Slowly, carefully, I begin to crawl away, keeping low to the ground and avoiding the sound of their footsteps.

My heart pounds in my ears as I drag myself through the underbrush, every movement a painful struggle. Blood drips steadily from the wound on my back, leaving a trail I can’t stop. If they find it, they’ll know exactly where I am, I think, panic tightening in my chest.

“Artemis,” Kaida’s voice rings out, just as strange and wrong as Lorien’s. “You can’t run forever. Come back, and we can help you.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself forward despite the pain. My breaths come in short gasps, and my vision blurs as exhaustion threatens to take over. No, I think desperately. I can’t let them find me. I have to keep going.

Branches scratch against my skin as I crawl deeper into the woods, each movement a fight against the weakness threatening to consume me. My hand stays protectively over my stomach, my focus split between the child I’m carrying and the need to survive.

What is this place? The thought keeps swirling in my mind as I drag myself forward. Why are they doing this?

“Artemis,” Lorien’s voice calls out again, closer now, the same sing-song tone sends a chill through my spine. “Think of the baby. Do you really want us to hurt her?”

My breath catches, my whole body trembling as his words sink in. “No,” I whisper under my breath, barely audible even to myself. “No, they wouldn’t…”

But the wrongness in his voice, the eerie calmness of it, makes my blood run cold. This isn’t the Lorien I know. This isn’t the Kaida, Hrothgar, or Veyron I trust. This isn’t them.

My hand instinctively presses tighter against my stomach, protectively shielding the life inside me. The fear burns hot in my chest, making my throat tighten as tears blur my vision. They wouldn’t hurt her. They wouldn’t hurt us. This isn’t real. It can’t be.

But the pain in my back and the weakness in my body feel too real, and the sound of their footsteps crunching through the underbrush grows louder.

“Artemis,” Kaida’s voice joins Lorien’s, unnaturally sweet yet dripping with an underlying threat. “Don’t make us do something you’ll regret. Just come back.”

I choke on a sob, dragging myself further through the underbrush, ignoring the sharp sting of branches cutting into my skin. I have to get away. For her. For us.

“No one’s going to hurt her,” I whisper fiercely to myself, the words both a desperate promise and a plea. “No one’s going to touch her.”

“There you are,” a deep voice rumbles, and I feel a strong hand grabbing me, lifting me off the ground like I weigh nothing.

I gasp, my body weak and trembling as I look up. It’s Hrothgar—or at least, it looks like him. The towering frame, the familiar face, the steady, powerful presence—it’s all there. But his eyes… they’re empty. Cold.

“No…” I whisper, struggling weakly in his grasp. “You’re not him. You’re not real!”

“Stop fighting, Artemis,” the doppelgänger says, his voice eerily calm as he holds me firmly. “You’re going to hurt yourself—and the baby.”

His words send a chill through me, but I grit my teeth, thrashing as much as my exhausted body will allow. “Let me go!” I cry, panic coursing through me. “You’re not Hrothgar! He’d never do this!”

The doppelgänger’s face doesn’t change, his expression almost mechanical as he carries me back toward the others. Lorien and Kaida emerge from the trees, their faces twisted into unsettling masks of concern and false calm.

“Artemis,” Lorien says, his voice dripping with that unnatural sweetness. “You’re making this harder than it has to be. We don’t want to hurt you—or her.”

“No!” I shout, my voice cracking as I struggle harder. “You’re lying! None of this is real!”

Kaida steps forward, her hand outstretched as if to soothe me. “Artemis, you’re confused,” she says, her voice soft but wrong. “Let us help you. Let us take care of you. You’ll see—it’s all going to be okay.”

“Get away from me!” I scream, tears streaming down my face as I twist in Hrothgar’s grip, desperate to break free. “You’re not real! You’re not them!”

Hrothgar’s grip is unrelenting, and no matter how much I thrash, I can’t break free. My body is too weak, and every movement sends sharp pain through my back where the dagger struck me.

As they carry me closer to the cabin, I’m ready to give up hope, the weight of everything crushing me. But then, a blood-curdling scream cuts through the air.

I lift my head just in time to see Lyra burst out of the cabin, her face pale, her movements frantic. “Help me!” she screams, her voice cracking as she stumbles forward.

But before she can make it far, a sword pierces through her chest.

My breath catches, a gasp escaping my lips as her lifeless body crumples to the ground. Behind her stands the knight from the mountain, his armor dark and glistening, his glowing red eyes locking onto us.

“Lyra!” I cry out, but the words are drowned out by Hrothgar dropping me.

He charges toward the knight, his battle cry echoing through the trees. Veyron and Kaida follow close behind, their weapons drawn, faces twisted in rage.

“What are you doing?! She’s getting away!” Lorien shouts behind me, his voice sharp and angry.

I don’t look back. The moment Hrothgar lets go of me, I force myself to my feet and start running, tears streaming down my face as the forest blurs around me.

Behind me, I hear the clash of weapons, the guttural screams of my friends—or whoever these people are. “Artemis, help!” their voices cry out, filled with pain and desperation.

I press my hands over my ears, trying to block them out, but their screams follow me like ghosts. “It’s not them,” I whisper to myself, over and over, my voice trembling. “It’s not them. It’s not real.”

But it’s their voices. Their cries of pain. Their calls for help. It cuts through me like a knife, and I can’t stop the tears from falling, no matter how much I want to.

“I can’t go back,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I stumble through the darkening forest. “It’s not them. I can’t put the baby in danger. Not now. Not ever.”

The trees grow thicker and darker, the shadows closing in around me as I slow to a walk, my strength fading fast. My legs feel like lead, my vision blurs, and every step feels harder than the last.

The blood from my back drips steadily, soaking into my torn tunic. My hand clutches my stomach protectively, my breaths shallow and labored.

I have to keep going. I have to…

But my knees buckle, and I collapse to the forest floor, the cold earth pressing against my skin as my vision darkens.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face as I clutch my stomach. My voice cracks, barely audible over the pounding in my ears.

The forest around me spins, the shadows growing deeper, colder. My body feels heavy, the pain in my back unbearable, the ache in my heart even worse.

“I’m so… sorry,” I whisper one last time, my trembling hand resting over the life I’m trying so desperately to protect.

And then, everything goes black.

Suddenly, I’m back in the castle. The forest, the cabin, the screams—it’s all gone. My breath catches as I glance around, but there’s nothing to see. Just endless darkness stretching out in every direction.

My hands move instinctively, trembling as I run them down my body. I’m still me—myself again. No weight of the life growing inside me. It’s what I thought. None of it was real.

I fall to my knees, my hands shaking as they rest on the cold stone ground beneath me. My chest tightens as the weight of everything crashes over me. The cabin, Lorien, the baby, the betrayal—it was all just a trick. A lie.

“This place,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, “it’s trying to break me. To make me doubt everything.”

I clutch my head, tears pricking my eyes as I try to piece it all together. What’s real? What’s not?

“Shade?” I think, desperately searching for his presence in my mind. But the void offers no answer, just oppressive silence.

I clench my fists, forcing myself to take a shaky breath. “Fine,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You won’t break me. Whatever this is, whoever’s behind it—I’ll figure it out. You won’t win.”

My voice echoes briefly in the emptiness before fading away. With nothing else to do, I force myself to my feet, trembling but determined.

“Where do you think you’re going, running off like that?” a deep, menacing voice echoes behind me, cutting through the oppressive silence.

My breath hitches, and I turn, my heart pounding in my chest. Even in the darkness, I can see him—the knight. His dark armor gleams faintly, and those glowing red eyes burn into me like fire.

“You’re not real,” I stammer, my voice trembling as I instinctively take a step back. My hands tighten into fists, though I know I have nothing to fight him with.

The knight chuckles, the sound low and mocking as he continues to approach. “I don’t know what that was,” he says, gesturing vaguely, as if referring to the nightmare I’d just escaped. “But I am most certainly real.”

The cold, commanding weight of his voice sends a chill down my spine, but I force myself to stand my ground. “Stay back,” I say, though my voice shakes.

He stops a few feet away, tilting his head slightly as if studying me. “You look weaker than when we last met,” he says, his tone almost casual. “Whatever they put you through… it’s breaking you, isn’t it?”

I glare at him, though my legs feel like they could give out at any moment. “What do you want?” I ask, my voice firmer than I feel.

“The same thing I’ve always wanted,” he says, gripping the hilt of his massive sword. “To finish what I started. To take you down.”

My chest tightens, fear clawing at me, but I force myself to meet his gaze. “Why? What do you gain from this? Why me?”

“Because,” he says simply, his voice dripping with cold certainty, “you’re the obstacle. And obstacles are meant to be destroyed.”

My bow is gone, and with it, the one thing I could rely on to protect myself. My heart pounds as I take another step back, my trembling hands tightening into fists. What do I do?

The knight takes another step toward me, his heavy boots echoing ominously. His glowing red eyes lock onto mine, and his lips curl into a cruel smirk. “What’s the matter, Artemis?” he says mockingly. “No clever plan? No backup? Just you, alone, and unarmed?”

I grit my teeth, anger bubbling beneath my fear. “You think I need a weapon to beat you?” I spit, though my voice shakes.

The knight laughs darkly, the sound reverberating around me. “Brave words,” he says, his massive sword dragging along the ground with an eerie scrape. “Let’s see if you can back them up.”

He lunges toward me without warning, his blade slicing through the air with terrifying speed. I dive to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike, my heart racing as I stumble to my feet.

“Shade,” I think desperately, my mind screaming for his presence. “If you’re here—if you can hear me—do something!”

But there’s no response. Just the suffocating silence and the knight’s looming figure.

The knight turns toward me again, his movements deliberate and unhurried. “What’s wrong?” he taunts. “No one to save you?”

I force myself to stand tall, my breath coming in ragged gasps. “I don’t need anyone to save me,” I say, more to convince myself than him. My fists clench tighter. If I’m going down, I’m not going down without a fight.

I wince as the ache in my back flares again, sharp and unrelenting. My hand moves instinctively, pressing against it as I run, expecting to find nothing—but I feel the sticky warmth of blood.

The dagger isn’t there, I think, my breath hitching. But the wound… it’s still here. I thought it was gone…

I bite back a curse, forcing myself to focus on moving forward. Great. Just what I need.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I see the knight still following me. But he’s not running. He’s just walking, his movements slow and deliberate, like he has all the time in the world.

He’s toying with me, treating me like I’m already finished—a wounded animal with nowhere to go.

My stomach twists, anger sparking alongside my fear. He thinks I’m done for? I grit my teeth, pushing through the pain in my back and the burning in my lungs. Not yet, you bastard.

The corridor twists ahead, offering me a momentary reprieve as I turn a corner and slip out of his sight. My mind races, desperately searching for a plan.

I need my bow. I need to get my bearings. I need… My hand brushes against the wound on my back again, the sticky wetness reminding me how bad my situation is. I need help.

The knight’s slow, steady footsteps echo behind me, growing louder with each passing second. I can’t keep running like this forever.

My eyes dart to the walls, to the unlit torches, searching for anything—a weapon, a place to hide, a way to lose him. But the castle gives me nothing but endless stone and shadows.

“Keep running,” the knight’s cold voice calls out mockingly, his tone sharp and cutting. “It won’t make a difference. You’ll fall eventually.”

My teeth clench, and I force myself to keep moving, even as my legs threaten to give out beneath me. I’ll fall when I decide to—not before.

I push myself forward, my breaths ragged and uneven. My back aches with every step, the wound sapping what little strength I have left. I’ve gotta find the others, I think desperately, glancing behind me. The knight is still there, his slow, deliberate steps echoing down the corridor.

Without Shade… or a weapon… I’m screwed.

The thought sends a shiver through me. I’ve relied on my bow for everything—without it, I’m just running blind, hoping to get lucky. But even with it, I could barely scratch him the last time we fought.

The memory of his glowing blade slicing through the mountain’s stone flashes in my mind, and a knot tightens in my chest. How do you beat something like that?

And worse, I’m already weak. That dream world—whatever it was—took so much out of me. My body feels like it’s dragging itself forward, my muscles screaming for rest. This place wants me to fail, I think bitterly, wiping the sweat from my brow.

I round another corner, barely catching myself against the wall as my legs threaten to give out. The corridor stretches endlessly ahead, identical to the last one. Where am I? Where is everyone else?

The sound of the knight’s boots striking the stone grows louder, sending a fresh wave of panic through me. I need them. Kaida, Lorien, Hrothgar—hell, even Veyron. I can’t do this alone.

My fingers brush against the wall, the cold stone grounding me for a brief moment as I force myself forward. I don’t know how to beat him. I don’t even know how to survive this. But I have to. For them. For me.

The thought steels me, giving me just enough strength to push through the pain and keep running. I just need to hold on until I find them—until we figure out a way to end this nightmare together.

My eyes lock onto a pressure plate ahead, an idea sparking in my mind. It’s obvious—moonlight perfectly revealing it through a window, there’s no way he’d step on it himself… but maybe I can get him close enough.

I stagger to a stop near it, doubling over as if I’m out of breath. Though, honestly, it’s barely acting—I’m running on fumes, and every breath feels like fire in my chest.

The knight’s heavy footsteps grow louder as he approaches, his dark figure looming closer. “I thought you’d last a bit longer,” he says mockingly, his voice cold and cutting.

He raises his massive sword, the glowing blade humming as it cuts through the air.

Now.

I dive to the side just as he swings, his blade narrowly missing me and slamming into the stone floor with a deafening crash. As I roll away, my foot slams down hard on the pressure plate.

The corridor trembles as hidden mechanisms spring to life. A sudden whoosh of air is followed by a cascade of arrows shooting from the walls, their sharp tips glinting in the moon light as they fly straight toward the knight.

He barely has time to react, turning his blade to deflect the first few arrows, but the sheer number overwhelms him. A few arrows strike his armor, bouncing harmlessly off, but others find the weak points, slipping between the plates and embedding in his joints.

He growls, a low, guttural sound that echoes through the corridor, and staggers back a step. His glowing red eyes narrow as he turns to me, the arrows protruding from his armor like thorns.

“You think this will stop me?” he snarls, ripping one of the arrows free from his arm.

My chest tightens as I scramble to my feet, wincing at the pain in my back. “No,” I say, my voice trembling but defiant. “But it’ll slow you down.”

I don’t wait for his response. I turn and bolt down the corridor, ignoring the searing pain in my body.

Behind me, his heavy footsteps resume, slower now but still steady, his growls of frustration echoing in the dim hallway.

For the first time, I find myself hoping for more traps. Anything I can use to slow him down, to keep him off me. My eyes scan the ground and walls as I run, searching for more pressure plates, switches, anything that might help.

But so far, there’s nothing. Just endless stone corridors and doors I don’t dare stop to open.

This guy is too powerful, I think bitterly, glancing back. His glowing red eyes burn through the darkness, and his heavy footsteps echo louder, even though he’s slowed by the arrows sticking out of him.

Hundreds of arrows, and only a handful actually hurt him. Most of them bounced harmlessly off his armor or were deflected by his blade. Even the ones that hit him barely seem to have slowed him down.

I grit my teeth, frustration bubbling inside me. I wish I had armor, I think, almost laughing at the absurdity of the thought. Then again… I’d probably collapse under the weight right now.

I glance back again, my breath hitching as I see him still following me, his steps unrelenting.

He’s not going to stop, fear twists in my chest. Not until he’s caught me.

I force myself to look forward, my legs trembling but still moving. If I can’t outrun him, I need to outthink him. I just need to find something—anything—that’ll give me an edge.

With every door I pass, every corner I turn, I keep my eyes peeled for traps, weapons, or even a hiding place. Come on, I think desperately. There has to be something.

I spot the window ahead, and my chest tightens. No, not jumping through, I think, my mind racing. Nothing good ever comes of that.

The memory of the hole in the dungeon wall flashes through my mind—how I jumped through to escape the shadow creature, only for everything to spiral out of control after. That didn’t end great, I think bitterly.

But then I hear it. A low, crackling sound behind me.

I glance back just in time to see the knight, his sword raised high. The blade glows brighter and brighter, the light pulsating as if charging for something big.

No. No, no, no!

He swings, and the glow shoots forward like a wave of energy, crackling as it races toward me.

“Guess I have no choice!” I shout, panic surging through me as I leap for the window.

The glass shatters around me, sharp shards cutting at my arms and legs as I fall through. Cold air rushes past me, and for a terrifying moment, I’m weightless, plummeting into the unknown.

“Please, please be something to catch me,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut.

The wind roars in my ears, and then—impact.

I hit something hard but uneven, the force jarring every part of my body. My back screams in pain as I roll down what feels like a steep incline, my arms and legs scraping.

Finally, I come to a stop, gasping for air as I lie on my side, my whole body aching.

The sharp edges of the roof dig into my palms as I steady myself, the surface uneven and slick beneath me. I glance around, realizing I’ve landed on the roof of a lower floor of the castle. The jagged tiles shift slightly under my weight, making every step feel precarious.

The cold wind howls, whipping through my hair and stinging my face as I force myself to my feet. My legs wobble, exhaustion dragging at me, but I know I can’t stop. Not here.

I glance back at the shattered window above, and my stomach twists. The knight is still there, watching me. His glowing red eyes cut through the darkness, unblinking, as if calculating his next move.

He’s not done with me. Not yet.

I force my aching body forward, carefully navigating the sloping roof. Each step feels like a battle as the cold air seeps into my bones, but I push on. I can’t afford to fall. I can’t afford to stop.

Behind me, I hear a faint crunch of stone, and I risk a glance back. The knight steps onto the roof with ease, his massive frame moving unnaturally steady despite the treacherous terrain.

“Do you think this will save you?” he calls, his voice carrying over the wind. “Running won’t change anything.”

I grit my teeth, ignoring him as I keep moving. The roof narrows ahead, sloping downward toward a ledge. Beyond it, I can see the faint outline of another section of the castle—a gap I’ll have to jump if I want to stay ahead of him.

“Running changes everything,” I mutter to myself, steeling my resolve as I press on. My breath comes in short, sharp bursts, the pain in my back flaring with each step.

I just have to make it to the other side.

A low, guttural growl rumbles through the air behind me, sending a shiver down my spine. I glance back and feel my stomach drop.

The knight is running now, his massive frame moving with unnatural speed and precision. His heavy armor doesn’t seem to weigh him down in the slightest, each step closing the distance between us alarmingly fast.

“Shit,” I mutter, panic surging through me.

I force my legs to move faster, the uneven roof tiles shifting beneath my feet as I sprint toward the gap ahead. My heart pounds in my chest, the cold wind whipping against my face as I push through the pain in my back.

I have to go faster. I have to.

But he’s catching up.

I can hear his armor clinking, his heavy boots cracking the tiles with each step. The weight of his presence presses down on me, suffocating and relentless.

The gap between the rooftops looms ahead, and I grit my teeth, focusing on it with everything I have. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about the pain. Just jump.

I glance back one last time, and his glowing red eyes lock onto mine, full of cold certainty. He raises his sword as he runs, the blade glowing faintly as if preparing another strike.

My chest tightens, fear clawing at my mind as I approach the ledge. “Not today,” I whisper, forcing myself forward with every ounce of strength I have left.

Just make the jump.

I push off the roof with everything I have left, my legs screaming in protest as I leap toward the window. My arms reach out desperately, fingers grasping for the ledge—but it’s not enough.

The window stays just out of reach, and for a moment, time seems to slow. My stomach drops as I realize I’m falling, the cold air rushing past me.

This is it, I think, panic flooding my mind. I didn’t make it.

But suddenly, a familiar shadowy shape erupts from within. The sensation is cold and electric, pulling me sharply upward.

“I’ve got you,” a voice whispers in my mind.

My heart skips a beat. “Shade?” I think, disbelief and relief flooding through me all at once.

The shadow arms propel me toward the window with incredible speed, and I crash through the glass, shards scattering around me as I hit the stone floor inside.

I lie there for a moment, gasping for air, my body trembling from the adrenaline. Slowly, I sit up, the pain in my back flaring again, but I barely notice it.

“You’re back,” I whisper aloud, my voice hoarse.

Shade’s familiar chuckle echoes faintly in my mind. “I never left,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “They just made it hard for me to reach you. But I’ve got you now.”

I blink back tears, the relief almost overwhelming. “I thought… I thought I was alone,” I admit, my voice trembling.

“You’re not,” Shade replies firmly. “And you never will be.”

The knight’s growl echoes outside the shattered window, snapping me back to reality. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding as I glance around the room for any way to escape—or fight back.

I swing the door open, the hallway beyond stretching into dim shadows, but my legs tremble beneath me, and I know I can’t run anymore. My body feels like it’s on the verge of collapse, the pain in my back and the exhaustion pressing down on me like a weight.

I glance around the room frantically, my breath shallow and panicked. There’s nowhere to hide—no closets, no other doors, nothing—except the bed.

It’s stupid. He’ll find me. But it’s all I’ve got.

Without wasting another second, I drop to the ground and slide under the bed, the cold stone floor pressing against my skin. Dust clings to my face as I try to stifle my ragged breathing, curling into myself to stay as hidden as possible.

Please, I think, my chest tightening as the sound of his boots grows louder. Just keep running. Don’t look in here. Just… just go past.

The shattered glass crunches beneath his boots as he enters the room, and I hold my breath, every muscle in my body tensing.

He pauses for a moment, his heavy breathing filling the silence. “You’re only making this worse for yourself,” he growls, his voice low and menacing.

I bite my lip, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to stay perfectly still. Go. Leave. Just run after where you think I went.

For what feels like an eternity, there’s nothing but silence. Then, his boots scrape against the floor as he moves further into the room.

I clutch my stomach instinctively, my breath caught in my throat as the weight of his presence looms over me.

I open my eyes, heart pounding, ready to see him standing over me, sword raised.

And there he is.

The knight is bent over, his glowing red eyes locking directly with mine under the bed. My stomach drops, my whole body freezing as a single thought consumes me: I’m dead.

But instead of striking, he tilts his head slightly, straightens up, and rushes out of the room.

“What?” I whisper, my voice trembling in disbelief.

I glance down at myself, and that’s when I see it—my entire body is shrouded in a swirling layer of darkness, wrapping around me like a protective cloak.

“Shade?” I think, my voice still weak.

“You’re hidden,” he replies calmly, his tone uncharacteristically steady.

A wave of relief washes over me, my tense muscles loosening as I let out a shaky breath. “Thanks,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, his tone lightening ever so slightly.

I close my eyes for a moment, my heart still racing as I try to catch my breath. “I thought he saw me,” I mutter.

“He did,” Shade says, a faint hint of pride in his voice. “But all he saw was shadows.”

I clutch my stomach protectively, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” I admit, my voice cracking.

“You don’t have to,” Shade replies softly. “For now, just rest. He’s gone—for now.”

“I… I need to find the others,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I try to push myself up, but my body protests. The pain in my back flares again, and my arms feel like jelly beneath me. “This place could be messing with them… the same way it did to me. And the knight—he could find them.”

Shade’s voice fills my mind, steady but firm. “You’re no good to them in your condition,” he says plainly. “Unless, of course, you’d like me to take over for you.”

I freeze at his words, my heart skipping a beat. “Take over?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yes,” he replies calmly. “You can rest. Let me handle the knight, or finding your friends—whichever comes first.”

I bite my lip, my hands trembling as they clutch the ground beneath me. The thought of letting Shade take control is… unsettling. But I know he’s right about one thing—I’m in no condition to keep running, much less fight or help anyone.

“I don’t want to,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I glance toward the door. “I feel useless. I can’t just… sit here.”

Shade chuckles lightly, though it’s softer than usual. “You won’t be useless. You’ll be alive. And that’s a better place to start than dead, don’t you think?”

I close my eyes, my chest tightening as the weight of his words sinks in. He’s right. But letting him take over…

“Promise me,” I think, my voice trembling in my mind. “Promise me you’ll keep them safe if you go.”

Shade’s tone softens slightly, a rare sincerity in his voice. “I promise,” he says. “I’ll protect them—and you. Rest now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I nod weakly, tears pricking my eyes as I lower myself back down to the cold, dusty floor. “Okay,” I whisper. “Just… don’t hurt anyone unless you have to.”

“Understood,” Shade replies. “Now rest, Artemis. You’ve earned it.”

“Don’t,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I clutch the ground beneath me. “Don’t let them know about you. Hide it… please.”

Shade is silent for a moment, his presence calm. Then, softly, he replies, “As you wish. They won’t know. Not from me.”

I exhale shakily, relief mingling with the fear and exhaustion still weighing me down. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Rest, Artemis,” Shade says firmly, his tone carrying an unexpected reassurance. “Save your strength. I’ll handle this, and they’ll never know it wasn’t you.”

The shadows around me deepen, and I let myself sink into them, my body too tired to fight anymore. My mind drifts as Shade’s presence takes over, calm but focused, like a silent guardian.

Please… keep them safe, I think one last time before the darkness overtakes me.