The first thing I feel is the ache in my head. It’s a dull, throbbing pain that spreads across my skull like a thousand needles pricking at me. I groan, trying to push myself up, but my arms are heavy, as if they’ve been weighted down by rocks. The ground beneath me is hard and cold, and the smell of damp earth fills my nostrils.

I blink a few times, trying to clear the fog from my mind, but the darkness around me is overwhelming. The only light is a faint, flickering glow that seems to come from nowhere. I squint, forcing my eyes to adjust. Slowly, the world around me begins to take shape—stone walls, jagged and rough, rising up on all sides. I’m in some sort of cave.

I try to sit up, but my body protests, every muscle sore from the fall. My hands find purchase on the ground, and I push myself upright, feeling the sharpness of the rocks beneath my palms. I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and slowly rise to my feet. My legs feel like jelly, but they hold.

What the hell happened?

The memories come back in fragments—my steps, the ground shifting beneath me, and then nothing but the fall. I scan the area around me, my heart pounding in my chest. I’m not sure how far I’ve fallen, but it’s far enough that the sunlight is nowhere to be seen. The air is damp, the walls slick with moisture, and the silence presses down on me like a weight.

I take a cautious step forward, my foot slipping slightly on the uneven ground. The flickering light seems to pulse from somewhere deeper in the cave. I can’t tell where it’s coming from, but it’s enough to guide me. I start to panic. I need to move. I need to get out of here.

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The path ahead is narrow, winding through the rock. I move carefully, each step slow, deliberate. My fingers brush against the cold stone as I go, trying to steady myself. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not alone here. That something is watching me.

But there’s nothing.

I round a bend in the cave, and then I see it.

A small shrine, carved into the stone, stands before me. It’s old—ancient, even. The stone is worn and weathered, but the intricate designs are still visible, faint traces of what once was. At the center of the shrine is a carving—a jade mountain, small but lifelike, its curves and edges so finely shaped it almost looks like it could come to life at any moment.

My breath catches in my throat. What is this?

I step closer, my hand instinctively reaching out. The jade is cool to the touch, smooth under my fingertips. The mountain seems to pulse, just faintly, like it’s alive. It feels… important. I don’t know why, but something in me tells me I need to take it.

I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s not something I should leave behind. My heart races as I carefully lift the jade mountain from its pedestal. It feels oddly warm in my hands, like it’s already attuned to me in some way.

A soft hum fills the air, and for a moment, I think I hear a voice. It’s faint, distant, but it’s there. I shake my head, trying to clear the fog that’s still clouding my thoughts.

Focus, Tao.

I turn and start heading back the way I came, the jade mountain still cradled in my hands. The glow from the shrine fades as I move away, but the warmth in my palms doesn’t. It’s like the mountain is calling to me, pulling me forward. I can’t explain it, but the feeling won’t leave me. It’s not a compulsion, not a mystical pull. It’s something deeper, more primal. I need to understand what this is.

I don’t know what’s waiting for me when I leave this cave, but for the first time since I fell, I feel like I might just have found something that will change everything.