As the dust settled in the temple’s chamber, an eerie silence filled the air. Ji-ho, Hwan, and Elysia stood in the aftermath of their battle, catching their breath. The guardian, corrupted by The Veil’s influence, was gone, and the marker had been restored. Yet, something lingered in the atmosphere—a whisper of danger, of unfinished business.
— That was too close, — Elysia muttered, wiping the sweat from her brow and sheathing her daggers.
— It’s only going to get harder from here, — Hwan said, his voice grim as he slid his sword back into its scabbard. He glanced toward Ji-ho, who remained beside the glowing marker, lost in thought. — What did you see?
Ji-ho hesitated, her gaze still fixed on the marker. The vision she had experienced—the shadow lurking within the mountain—haunted her. It was a presence that felt ancient, older than any of the corrupted guardians they had encountered so far.
— There’s something out there, — she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. — Something watching us.
Elysia scoffed. — You mean more of these corrupted freaks? I wouldn’t be surprised. We’ve been stirring the pot for a while now.
Ji-ho shook her head, her expression serious. — No, it’s different. It’s not just another guardian. It feels… powerful. Like it’s been waiting for us.
Hwan’s eyes narrowed. — A trap?
Ji-ho’s heart raced as she considered the possibility. The shadow in her vision hadn’t attacked or revealed itself fully. It had simply watched, lurking in the background, waiting. It made her uneasy, as though their journey was being orchestrated by something far more dangerous than The Veil’s corruption.
— I don’t know, — she admitted. — But I think whatever it is, it’s tied to the next site.
Elysia’s eyes widened. — You mean we’re heading straight toward it?
Ji-ho nodded. — We don’t have a choice. The next marker is on the other side of the mountain. If we want to stop The Veil, we have to keep moving forward.
Hwan didn’t argue. He trusted Ji-ho’s instincts, and they had no other leads to follow. — Then we’ll be ready for whatever comes next. We’ve made it this far. We won’t stop now.
As they left the chamber, the cold mountain air hit them like a wave, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the temple. The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the jagged rocks and snow-covered peaks. The landscape was beautiful in its desolation, but the trio could not afford to be distracted by the view. Their path wound through narrow ridges and steep cliffs, leading deeper into the heart of the mountain.
— Do you think this thing you saw has something to do with The Veil? — Elysia asked, her voice echoing in the stillness.
Ji-ho considered the question. The Veil had corrupted guardians, twisted their purpose, but the shadow in her vision felt different. It wasn’t corrupted—it was something else entirely, something older, perhaps even more dangerous.
— I’m not sure, — she admitted. — But I have a feeling it’s been here long before The Veil ever appeared.
Hwan, walking ahead, paused to survey the terrain. — We’re nearing the next site. We should make camp here for the night. It’ll be too dangerous to approach the marker in the dark.
Elysia nodded, though she didn’t seem thrilled by the idea of sleeping in the open. — Fine, but I’m not taking first watch this time.
Hwan smirked, a rare glimmer of humor in his otherwise stoic demeanor. — I’ll take it.
They found a relatively flat area shielded by a cluster of boulders and set up camp. The wind howled through the mountains, carrying with it a bone-chilling cold, but they huddled close to the small fire they managed to start. As the night deepened, the stars appeared in the sky, bright and distant, offering little comfort.
Ji-ho sat apart from the others, staring into the flames, her mind racing with the weight of the visions she had seen. What was the shadow? Why had it revealed itself to her now? And why did it feel so familiar?
A part of her wondered if it had something to do with her past—a past she had only recently begun to uncover. The memories of her childhood were fragmented, lost in the trauma of the events that led her to this journey. But the more markers they restored, the more she felt that her past was somehow intertwined with their mission.
She looked up at the night sky, her breath forming clouds in the cold air. — What are you trying to show me? — she whispered to the darkness.
— Talking to yourself? — Elysia’s voice broke the silence, and Ji-ho turned to see her approaching.
Ji-ho smiled faintly. — Just thinking.
Elysia sat down beside her, pulling her cloak tighter against the cold. — You should try not to overthink it. We’ve been through a lot, and there’s more to come. Dwelling on what might happen won’t change what will happen.
— I know, — Ji-ho said, though her thoughts remained heavy. — It’s just… something feels off. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re walking into a trap.
Elysia sighed, her breath visible in the frigid air. — That’s the thing about traps, right? You never see them coming. But when they do, we’ll face it. We always do.
Ji-ho appreciated Elysia’s optimism, though it did little to ease her concerns. Still, she nodded in agreement.
— Get some rest, — Elysia said, standing up. — We’ll need you sharp tomorrow.
Ji-ho watched her friend walk back toward the fire, where Hwan sat, keeping watch over their camp. She knew Elysia was right—they had survived this long by staying focused and determined. But as she lay down to sleep, the shadow in her vision continued to haunt her dreams, its presence looming like a dark cloud over the path ahead.
And in the distance, high in the mountains, something stirred.
Something ancient.
Something waiting.