The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridors, sharp clatters bouncing off cold stone walls. The cloaked figures moved with purpose, their breaths uneven but their pace relentless. Shadows stretched and warped as their torchlight flickered, casting an eerie glow on the jagged carvings etched into the walls—symbols of chaos and divinity intertwined.

At last, they arrived at an imposing door of weathered ironwood, its surface adorned with carved depictions of flames consuming a celestial figure. One of the cloaked figures hesitated, their hand trembling as they reached to push it open. The heavy door creaked, a sound that seemed to reverberate endlessly through the cavernous halls.

Inside, a suffocating darkness enveloped the chamber, broken only by the faint glow of scattered candles. The light illuminated a single desk of blackened stone, behind which sat their leader. Shrouded in shadow, their face was obscured except for a pair of fever-bright eyes that bore into the figure entering the room.

“What is it?” the leader demanded, their voice low and brittle, barely human in its intensity.

The cloaked figures exchanged nervous glances before one finally stepped forward, bowing deeply. “Master, it’s about the presence we were tracking.”

The leader tilted their head slightly, the motion unnervingly deliberate. “And?”

“We…” The figure hesitated, their voice faltering under the weight of the leader’s gaze. “We lost it.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The leader’s piercing eyes narrowed, their fingers curling around the edge of the desk. Slowly, almost theatrically, they leaned forward, their voice a razor-thin whisper. “You lost it?”

The figure trembled, their head lowering further as they stammered, “Y-yes, master. It vanished without a trace. We d-don’t know how.”

The leader let out a quiet, almost inaudible laugh—a sound that chilled the room more than any outburst could. “You don’t know how?” They repeated the words mockingly, each syllable dripping with disdain. “You don’t know how?”

The room seemed to darken further as their voice rose, trembling with unhinged fury. “You dare tell me that you LOST the presence of our GOD?”

The figure recoiled, their knees buckling under the weight of the leader’s rage. “Master, p-please forgive us! It was unforeseen! We—we will find it again, I swear!”

“Swear?” The leader’s voice cracked, turning guttural. “You swear to me, as if your words mean anything! Do you understand what you’ve lost? Do you comprehend the magnitude of your FAILURE?”

The other cloaked figures shrank back, daring not to intervene as the leader rose to their feet. Their movements were jerky, almost unnatural, as though their body struggled to contain the raw fervor burning within them.

“That presence,” the leader hissed, pointing a trembling finger, “is HIM. Our god, reborn into the mortal realm, gifted to us to fulfill HIS vision! And you—you let HIM slip away into NOTHINGNESS!”

The trembling figure collapsed to the floor, their forehead pressing against the cold stone as they babbled apologies. “W-we will find him! Master, please, give us more time!”

The leader let out another deranged laugh, this one louder, echoing through the chamber like the cackling of a madman. “Time?” they snarled, their hands slamming down onto the desk. “Time is a luxury we do not have! Every second HE is lost, the world falls further into chaos—chaos without purpose, chaos without meaning! How can HE lead us to salvation if you cannot even keep HIM in your grasp?”

The figure on the ground whimpered, and the leader’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, their fervent tone laced with chilling reverence. “HE is our savior. HIS presence is the answer to everything. Do you not feel it? The divinity emanating from HIM? The power that calls to us all?”

The other cloaked figures remained silent, their heads bowed in fearful submission.

The leader straightened, their eyes gleaming with a manic light. “You will find HIM. Do you understand? You will bring HIM to me, or I will see to it that you BECOME part of HIS offering!”

“Yes, master!” the figures shouted in unison, their voices trembling as they scrambled to their feet and hurried out of the chamber.

The heavy door slammed shut, leaving the leader alone in the dim candlelight. They reached out to the desk, their fingers brushing against a small, crystalline orb resting atop its surface. The orb pulsed faintly, its light reflecting in their wild eyes.

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“Soon,” the leader whispered, their voice trembling with unholy reverence. “Soon, you will come to us, my god. Soon, you will guide us into your eternal plan. You are not just the savior… You are everything.”

Their hand tightened around the orb, their breath shuddering with fervor. “And I will deliver you, no matter the cost.”

The candles flickered violently, shadows writhing across the walls like living things. The air in the chamber grew thick and suffocating as the leader’s laughter echoed, wild and unhinged, reverberating through the corridors like a terrible omen.

————————————————

The guard’s sharp voice jolted her into motion. It was her turn. Taking a deep breath, Nyx stepped forward, her legs trembling slightly beneath her cloak. With Uriel by her side, she braced herself to face whatever lay ahead.

The two guards exchanged glances as she approached, their expressions shifting from disinterest to curiosity. One of them, a burly man with a thick beard, furrowed his brow at the sight of her small frame. He crouched down slightly to meet her gaze, his tone softening.

“Are you lost, little boy?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

Nyx hesitated, panic swirling in her chest. Little boy? she thought, but before she could overthink it, Uriel’s calm voice echoed in her mind:

“Respond with ‘yes.’”

Nyx swallowed hard, her heart pounding. “Yes, I am,” she said, her voice cracking.

The guard frowned, his confusion deepening. He studied her for a moment, clearly trying to piece together her situation.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asked again, slower this time, as if speaking to someone who might not fully grasp the language.

Uriel’s voice cut in once more.

“Respond the same way.”

“Yes, I can,” Nyx replied, her voice cracking.

But the guard’s expression only grew more puzzled. He looked over his shoulder at his companion, who shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like our tongue,” the second guard muttered under his breath.

Nyx’s heart sank. Uriel, what’s happening?

The system responded swiftly:

“Although you can understand their language, they cannot understand yours. The language you were taught is originally that of the gods. It is not comprehensible to most mortals.”

Nyx blinked, trying to keep her panic at bay. Can’t you translate my speech to match theirs?

“Unfortunately, I cannot fully modify your verbal output until we come into contact with a transcript of their language. Only then can I create a functional translation matrix.”

Nyx clenched her fists beneath her cloak, her voice shaky in her thoughts. So… what do we do now?

“For now, respond with nonverbal cues. Nod or shake your head to convey understanding. It’s the best course of action until I can gather the necessary data.”

She let out a slow breath, her gaze meeting the guard’s again. His expression was patient, but she could sense his growing unease.

Nods and gestures, then. Guess that’s what we’re doing now.

The first guard sighed, his demeanor shifting from concern to mild frustration. He looked back at her, his voice calm but firm. “Where are your parents? Why are you alone?”

Nyx froze. She didn’t know how to answer that—how could she explain something so impossible to strangers who didn’t even seem to fully understand her?

She didn’t give them any response.

The guard raised an eyebrow as he watched her hesitate. “Can you tell me where you’re from?” he asked slowly, his tone almost pitiful now.

Nyx didn’t respond this time. Instead, she nodded faintly no, hoping that would suffice.

“He doesn’t talk much,” the second guard muttered, exchanging a wary glance with his partner. “Think he’s a runaway?”

The first guard furrowed his brow and called over another guard standing nearby. This one looked younger, his polished armor catching the light as he jogged over. His blond hair was neatly cropped, and his sharp green eyes carried a softer, more approachable demeanor.

“Abel, get over here. Your assistance is needed,” the senior guard ordered, his voice firm. “You’re fluent in other languages, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Abel replied, his tone respectful but curious.

“Good. Try and see if you can understand what this little boy is saying.” The senior guard gestured toward Nyx, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized her.

Abel crouched down to her level, a kind smile softening his features. “Hi, little boy. Are you lost?”

Uriel’s calm voice translated the words in Nyx’s mind.

“Nyx, respond with, ‘Yes, I am.’”

“Yes, I am,” Nyx said, her voice small and hesitant.

Abel’s expression shifted as confusion clouded his friendly demeanor. He glanced back at his superior. “I don’t understand this language,” he admitted, his brows knitting together.

The senior guard sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “Could be a dialect from the east,” he muttered, his tone laced with frustration.

Abel turned back to Nyx, studying her closely. His green eyes searched hers, his tone growing more careful. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked slowly, enunciating each word.

Uriel translated for Nyx again, but her pulse quickened. How was she supposed to explain herself when they couldn’t understand her anyway?

Uriel’s voice cut through her panic.

“Nyx, remain calm. If you don’t feel comfortable responding verbally, nod or use other nonverbal cues to indicate understanding.”

Nyx took a shaky breath and gave a small nod in response. Abel’s brows lifted slightly, and he looked back at the senior guard again. “I don’t think he understands much of what I’m saying either, sir. He’s nodding, but…”

The senior guard pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath, “This is getting us nowhere.” He straightened up, addressing Abel firmly. “Get this boy through the gates. He’s not a threat, but we’ll need to find someone who can understand him once he’s inside.”

Abel hesitated but nodded. “Understood, sir.” He turned back to Nyx, his kind expression returning. “Come with me, little guy. We’ll figure this out.”

Uriel’s voice echoed reassuringly in her mind.

“Follow him, Nyx. Everything will be fine.”

Nyx followed Abel’s lead, her heart pounding but her steps steady. For now, the immediate tension had passed, but the language barrier and her growing sense of unease reminded her just how far she was from the life she once knew.