The trembling stopped, and the forest had gone silent. As if the world itself was holding its breath.
The cave was nowhere to be seen.
Alden stood before the now vanishing remains of the white duck's body; the air around it vibrated like a glass about to break.
Something felt wrong.
It felt as if something ancient had woken up.
He felt it in his bones.
A heavy pressure. Not like magic. Not like Aura.
Something more fundamental.
Then the ground beneath the duck's vanishing corpse split.
A crack formed.
It was just a thin line at first, then it became wide and wider—until a deep chasm tore open the forest floor.
Something pulsed from within the crack.
A massive and grotesque black heart pulsed with an eerie rhythm.
It wasn't made out of flesh.
No…
It seemed to be made of obsidian. It had golden veins covering it with runes shimmering above it.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
It released a heavy heartbeat. Not metaphorical. Not poetic.
A real heartbeat.
