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“I’m going to check it out.” Then Skye pushed off the branch, the long drop sending a rush of adrenaline searing through him.

He landed with a heavy thud, his body sinking low to absorb the impact.

Kato hit the ground with less grace and more complaining. He rubbed his leg, already moving in the direction of the flash.

They broke into an easy jog, branches whipping past.

Soon, the trees gave way to a clearing, and there it was—an enormous, ruined dome rising from the earth like the fallen crown of some ancient structure.

Its surface was cracked, with sections missing, revealing the skeletal framework underneath.

It looked like the severed cap of a skyscraper, but Skye knew better.

This wasn’t something that had once towered over everything else—this was a groundscraper, an inverted structure that stretched deep into the earth.

What they were seeing now was just the top of something much, much larger.

Skye was suddenly more aware of his steps. “Careful,” he murmured, eyes scanning the tangled mess of roots and old cobbles beneath his feet. “I didn’t realize we were this close to Din’Daral.”

One of the six lost and forgotten underground cities, Skye had heard the stories—every year, hikers vanished without a trace inside the ruins, swallowed by sinkholes or swept away in floods that seemed to come out of nowhere.

The ground felt loose, almost hollow underfoot. Each subtle give sent a surge of unease through him.

“Remind me again why you choose to live in this paradise of death and dismemberment?” Kato grumbled. He looked around. “Where do you think that light was coming from?”

“I don’t know. Maybe inside?”

They needed to know if there was something—or someone—in there causing that flash.

Skye kept a hand near his sword. He moved cautiously, testing each step before putting his full weight down. Kato followed, his gaze shifting between his brother and the dome that loomed ever closer.

The entrance was a dark break in the stone, vines trailing down like fingers.

Skye pushed them aside. He had to step over a low ring of what looked like quartz half-buried in the mud.

The surface was ridged, almost patterned, and beneath the grime, something glimmered—lines that looked like scales, overlapping in a way that made the stone seem strangely organic.

It reminded him of the carapace of some long-forgotten creature, now claimed by the earth.

Inside, the metal lattice of the dome stretched high.

More vines dangled down to brush against the rubble-strewn floor.

A central device dominated the structure—a colossal ring suspended by a series of articulated arms and drooping cables hung like the remains of some long-dead beast left to rot on rusty hinges.

“Awesome,” Kato murmured and rushed forward.

“Yeah…” Skye said, craning his head to take it all in.

The ring wasn’t the only marvel. An intricate tapestry of gears, levers, and crystalline conduits crisscrossed the walls and ceilings. He could see the craftsmanship even beneath the weight of years.

He could almost picture it as it once was—alive, functional, powerful. Though what function it had served… that was a mystery.

Skye knew tech. Could read circuitry like a language. But this? This was something else entirely.

Across the room, Kato ran his fingers across the exposed gears, his eyes alight with a familiar, almost child-like fascination. It was a transformation, really, watching him like this. The cynical mask slipped away, replaced by something almost… pure.

In the center of the floor was a pedestal. It rose directly beneath that massive metal ring. The buttons, levers, dials were all still intact, though any labels or indication as to what they might do had been worn away.

Central to the interface was a prominent, circular recess, perfectly molded. Its shape looked familiar.

Curious, Skye reached into his pocket, producing the amulet they’d taken from Vaughn. A clear crystal ouroboros wrapped around a violet center stone.

He placed the amulet in the slot. It was a perfect fit.

“Hey,” he said. “Come look at—”

Click .

Skye and Kato shared a look. They both knew that sound—it was the sound of an activation, of a mechanism engaging.

A low vibration stirred beneath their boots.

Then came the grind of stone against stone, the sound echoing through the dome.

Kato’s voice dropped. “What did you just do?”

“Nothing.” Skye grabbed the amulet from the slot, but the grinding didn’t stop.

The conduits on the walls flashed. Violet aether sluiced through the drooping nest of tubes hanging from the metal lattice, sludgy at first but gaining speed with each passing second.

A faint, almost imperceptible whine began to resonate as that ring tried to turn, shaking off flakes of rust.

The air thickened. The pressure built.

“Time to go,” Skye said, remarkably calm. So much for avoiding another careless mistake.

Kato didn’t argue.

They broke for the exit—but the ground pitched, sharp and wrong, like gravity had flipped on its head.

Wind came from nowhere. No direction. No warning. Just force slamming into them, pushing them back towards that ring as it spun into a blur—an open mouth, wide and ravenous, sucking at the air with a pressure that bent the world around it.

The pull hit like a vice. They were yanked backward—and up .

Skye caught a glimpse of Kato beside him, feet kicking as they left the ground, eyes wide with shock.

With one final, jarring lurch, the world twisted, blurred, and dissolved into nothing.

The dome fell silent. The machine’s lights flickered once, twice, then went dark, leaving only the dim beams of natural light seeping through the cracks above.

The gears wound down with a soft groan, the last echoes of movement fading away.

The space was empty.

Skye and Kato were gone.