Chapter 9 · The Bloody Ladder

"Get your hands off me!" Lyra shrieked, though she didn't actually pull away.

I didn't listen. I had her pinned against the cold stone of the altar, my fingers digging into her shoulders. The heartbeat from below wasn't just a sound anymore; it was a vibration rattling my teeth, a rhythmic thrum that matched the pulsing black core in my chest.

"Shut up and feel it," I hissed, leaning closer. My breath hit her cheek, and I could see the way her pupils dilated. She was terrified, sure, but there was something else—a desperate curiosity. "The altar isn't waking up for us. It's waking up for *me*."

"You're insane," she gasped, her chest heaving against mine. "That thing... it's a Forbidden Zone. If you trigger the seal, we're both dead before the first scream hits the air."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. The black sludge was already seeping through the cracks in the floor, thick and oily, smelling like old blood and ozone. It didn't attack. It flowed toward me, circling my ankles like a loyal dog.

Then the pressure hit.

It wasn't a physical blow, but a psychic scream that knocked Lyra back. I felt my consciousness rip open.