Villain's Last Chance

The wind howled through the ruins, a whisper of forgotten voices lost in time. The Seer's words still echoed in my head.

"You will need a guide. He will find you."

That was the part that unsettled me the most.

Not the unknown temple. Not the looming threat of the Codex's grip tightening around my soul. Not even the possibility that breaking the bond might kill me.

It was the idea that something—or someone—out there was already looking for me.

And I had no idea who or what they were.

Cairon had been silent ever since we left the Seer's chamber. He walked a few steps ahead, his posture rigid, his mind clearly turning over everything we had learned.

Marek, on the other hand, had no such restraint.

"Well, that was vague as hell," he muttered, stretching his arms above his head. "A nameless temple, a mysterious guide, and a cryptic warning that you might not make it back. Sounds like a fun trip."

I shot him a look. "You don't have to come."

He smirked. "And miss out on watching you wrestle with ancient forces beyond mortal comprehension? Not a chance."

Cairon exhaled sharply, the first sound he had made in the past hour. "This isn't a game, Marek."

"Oh, I know." Marek grinned. "That's what makes it interesting."

Cairon turned his gaze to me then, his expression unreadable. "And you? Are you really planning to go through with this?"

I met his eyes, steady. "Do I have a choice?"

A flicker of something crossed his face, something I couldn't quite name. Anger? Frustration? Or something darker—something closer to concern.

"You always have a choice," he said.

Did I, though?

The Codex had already marked me. The Origin was waiting. And whether I wanted to or not, I was being pulled into something far beyond my control.

The only choice I had left was how I faced it.

I straightened. "We leave at first light."

The Watchers in the Dark

Night fell over the ruined outpost where we had made camp. The sky stretched wide above us, an endless abyss of stars.

I sat near the fire, sharpening the edge of my dagger, but my mind was elsewhere. The weight of the Seer's warning still lingered.

"You will no longer belong to this world."

How long did I have before that happened? How much of me was still left?

A rustle in the darkness pulled me from my thoughts. My grip on the dagger tightened.

Cairon was already on his feet, sword drawn. Marek's hand hovered over his belt, where at least three blades were hidden.

Then came the sound of footsteps.

Slow. Unhurried. Deliberate.

A figure emerged from the shadows, cloaked in black. He moved with the ease of someone who had walked unseen for years, his presence a whisper of something other.

He stopped just beyond the firelight.

And then he spoke.

"I've been looking for you."

The Guide

Silence fell over our camp.

The stranger stood motionless, waiting. The firelight barely touched him, his face shadowed beneath the hood of his cloak.

Marek was the first to break the silence. "Well, that's not ominous at all."

I ignored him, eyes locked on the stranger. "Who are you?"

He lifted his head just enough for me to see his mouth curve into something that almost resembled a smile.

"I am the one who will lead you to the temple."

Something about the way he said it made the hair on my arms rise.

Cairon stepped closer, his grip on his sword firm. "And how do we know we can trust you?"

The stranger turned his head slightly, considering Cairon in a way that made my pulse quicken.

"You don't," he said simply. "But you will follow me all the same."

Arrogant. Confident. Like he knew we had no other choice.

And maybe we didn't.

I exhaled slowly. "You knew we were coming."

The stranger nodded. "The Seer's vision does not lie. And the Codex… it does not allow loose ends."

That sent a chill through me.

Cairon's jaw tightened. "And if we refuse to follow you?"

The stranger tilted his head, as if the thought amused him. "Then you will never find what you seek."

A challenge. A test.

I met his gaze. "Fine. Lead the way."

The stranger smiled then, a slow, knowing thing.

"Try to keep up."

And just like that, he turned and disappeared back into the darkness.

I took one last look at Cairon. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the tension in him, in the way his hands curled into fists.

He didn't like this.

Neither did I.

But there was no turning back now.

I stepped into the shadows after the stranger, and the night swallowed us whole.

---

The Trap

We walked for hours. The stranger—our supposed guide—moved through the ruins as if he had walked this path a thousand times before. He never hesitated, never looked back.

Marek, of course, had plenty to say about it.

"So, do you actually have a name, or are we just calling you 'Creepy Cloak Guy' the whole way?"

The guide didn't answer.

Marek sighed. "Alright, then. Silent and brooding. Just what we needed—another one of those."

I barely heard them. Something about this place was… off.

The shadows were too deep. The silence too thick. And the further we walked, the more it felt like something was watching us.

Cairon must have felt it too because he shifted closer to me, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

Then, without warning—

The ground beneath us shifted.

A crack, a sudden lurch—before I could react, I was falling.

I hit the ground hard, dust choking my lungs, my pulse slamming against my ribs.

I wasn't alone.

The stranger stood a few feet away, completely unharmed.

Cairon landed beside me with a sharp curse, his blade already drawn.

Marek wasn't so lucky—he hit the ground with a groan, rolling onto his back. "Well. That sucked."

I pushed myself to my feet. "Where are we?"

The stranger turned toward me, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.

"Closer to the truth," he said.

And then the walls around us began to move.