POV: Kenny

“The light is not calling me.”

Nobody spoke, I stood barefoot on the cold stone floor, my toes curling slightly as if the ground itself was breathing. The fractured medallion floated in front of me, glowing softly, its cracks pulsing in a slow rhythm that matched my chest.

Lyra’s voice came first, careful. “What do you mean it is not calling you?”

“It is not pulling,” I said. “It is not dragging me forward. It is just… there.”

Kael shifted behind me. I heard the ...