"Stay calm," Celine ordered, her voice steady but laced with tension. "Could be just the light playing tricks."
The team advanced, their footsteps echoing in the narrow corridor, the oppressive silence hanging over them like a shroud. But as they passed one of the statues, something shifted. The helmet cam picked it up—a faint, almost imperceptible movement. The statue's head tilted, just slightly.
Clara noticed it immediately. "Did anyone else see that?"
Jacob froze. His eyes were locked on the screen, his pulse racing. "That statue—"
The feed cut off for a split second, then flickered back on. The statue was now fully turned toward the team, its faceless head staring directly at them. The air in the command center crackled with tension.
"What's going on down there?" Clara's voice was sharp.
"We... We don't know," Celine responded, her own voice showing signs of unease. "The statue—"
Suddenly, the comms went silent. The feed from Celine's team sputtered, cutting in and out, showing only glimpses of the darkened corridors and the unnerving statues.
Then, a scream.
Jacob shot to his feet, adrenaline spiking. "Celine! What's happening?"
No response.
Tessa's hands clenched into fists, her face pale. "We need to go in."
Lynn stepped closer, eyes wide, but determined. "We can't just stand here."
Just then, something caught Jacob's attention. He turned toward the ruins, his gaze falling on one of the statues near the entrance. It had been standing still only moments before, but now... now, it was gone.
"What the—" Jacob whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. "That statue... it's missing."
Tessa's eyes darted around, her breathing shallow. "What do you mean it's missing?"
"It was right there," he said, pointing to the empty pedestal. "And now it's not."
And then they heard it—a low, rumbling sound, like something massive shifting deep within the ruins. The ground beneath their feet trembled, and the air grew colder, thicker with dread. Something was waking up.
"We can't wait anymore," Jacob said, his voice shaking but firm. "We need to find them. Now."
But as they turned toward the entrance, the strange figures on the walls seemed to pulse, their eyes glowing faintly in the dark. Whatever lay inside the ruins was watching them, waiting for them to step inside its domain. And Jacob knew, deep down, that what they were about to face was far worse than anything they had encountered before.
Moments stretched on, tension gripping every breath as Jacob, Tessa, and Lynn stood frozen at the entrance. The low rumbling sound from the depths of the ruins seemed to have stilled, leaving a haunting silence in its wake. The ground no longer trembled, but an unnerving stillness clung to the air. The statues that had shifted... gone. The eerie eyes painted on the walls inside, pulsing in the dim light, continued their silent vigil.
Suddenly, a garbled message crackled through the comms. "We're... out... we're... safe."
Clara shot to her feet, relief and urgency battling in her voice. "Celine, confirm! Are all agents accounted for?"
The comms sputtered again before Celine's voice broke through, shaky but clear. "We're all out. No casualties. Something... something moved in there. I don't know what, but it wasn't human. We're back at the entrance."
Jacob let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, the tension in his body easing slightly. Tessa and Lynn exchanged nervous glances but remained quiet, their faces pale with worry. The air was thick with unease, but knowing the others were alive lessened the weight just enough for them to catch their breath.
The heavy metal doors leading into the ruins creaked open as the first agents stumbled out, their faces pale, eyes wide with fear. Celine, usually calm and collected, looked visibly shaken. The other agents followed her, their movements stiff and hurried, as if they couldn't leave the ruins behind fast enough.
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"What happened in there?" Clara demanded, her eyes locked on her sister.
Celine shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I don't know. We saw the statues move, and those drawings... they seemed to be alive. But when we moved deeper, everything just... stopped. It was like the ruins went quiet, but not in a way that felt safe. More like... they were watching, waiting."
Jacob's eyes narrowed. "Watching?"
"Yeah." One of the other agents chimed in, still catching their breath. "It felt like something was staring right into us from every corner. But after that, it was like whatever was there just... vanished. The statues were gone, and those drawings—" He shuddered. "They didn't move anymore. It was like the place just emptied out."
Tessa spoke up, her voice low. "And the remains? The ones Alphonse—"
"They're still inside," Celine said, her voice grave. "We found them where we expected. But no sign of what killed him, no creatures, no traps. Just those damn statues and those drawings."
Clara turned to Kira, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, watching everything unfold. "What's your assessment?"
Kira crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "I don't like it. Whatever was in those ruins—it didn't just disappear. It's lurking, hiding. We need to remain on high alert."
Jacob stepped forward, his voice firm but strained. "And what about us? We're still standing here while all of you got to see what's inside."
Clara sighed, but her tone was resolute. "We're not sending you in yet. The ruins may seem empty now, but if whatever was in there comes back, you'll be the last line of defense. Stay sharp, Jacob."
Jacob clenched his fists, frustrated but knowing there was little he could do. His mind raced back to the eerie statues and the strange paintings. Whatever had been inside the ruins had chosen to retreat. But why? He glanced toward the ruins, his instincts screaming that this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
Celine, standing beside her team, nodded to Clara. "We'll regroup and reanalyze. I don't think we've seen everything these ruins have to offer."
Jacob's eyes stayed locked on the entrance. He knew it too. The ruins weren't empty. They were waiting—watching—for the right moment to strike.
As the camp settled into a tense silence after their unsettling encounter with the ruins, Jacob found himself increasingly restless. Conversations had dwindled to murmurs, the hum of machinery filled the air, and everyone moved with a palpable sense of purpose, yet the earlier dread lingered like a heavy fog. The agents who had returned from the ruins huddled in small, anxious groups, their voices hushed, their eyes distant and hollow from the horrors they had witnessed.
Unable to shake his unease, Jacob decided to take a walk around the perimeter. His mind kept drifting back to his conversations with Celine and Clara, and the sinister aura that clung to the ruins. His instincts screamed that the calm after the storm was an illusion. Whatever malevolence had stirred in those ancient walls had not yet run its course.
He veered away from the main camp, moving past tents and scattered equipment, his boots crunching on the gravelly earth. The dense forest surrounding the camp loomed like a dark sentinel, the twisted trunks casting long, eerie shadows as the sun dipped below the horizon. The woods felt suffocating, almost sentient, as if they were waiting for something to happen.
As Jacob rounded a pile of crates stacked near the edge of the clearing, something drew his attention. It was subtle, almost lost among the other supplies—an old, weather-beaten piece of equipment that seemed oddly out of place. Etched into its side was a small, circular symbol, worn and faded but discernible to those who knew what to look for.
Jacob crouched down, his fingers tracing the outline of the mark. The emblem was faint, its edges scratched from years of neglect. At first glance, it resembled standard military insignia, a relic from countless operations, its significance long lost to time. Yet, there was something unnervingly familiar about it. The symbol tugged at the fringes of his memory, a fleeting connection that he couldn't quite place but was enough to set off alarm bells in his head.
He studied it intently, his mind racing through fragmented recollections. The connection was elusive, like a whisper from the past, but Jacob's instincts told him that this was no mere coincidence. His pulse quickened as he stood up, the weight of his discovery settling heavily on his shoulders. The symbol's presence, tucked away on a piece of equipment in the middle of nowhere, seemed too deliberate to be random.
Jacob cast a quick, cautious glance around, ensuring that no one else had seen what he had uncovered. The situation felt increasingly wrong, as though he had inadvertently uncovered something meant to remain hidden. The symbol's presence was almost deliberately obscure, but Jacob's trained eye saw through the guise.
He continued his walk around the camp, keeping his find to himself for the moment. His senses were heightened, every rustle in the forest and every shadow seemed to pulse with a latent threat. The unsettling atmosphere from the ruins still clung to him, but now, a new layer of unease gnawed at his thoughts. This symbol—whatever its significance—was a thread he needed to unravel.
Jacob knew better than to dismiss coincidences, especially when they hinted at something deeper and more sinister.
The operation was slated to last several days—an exhaustive, painstaking search of the ruins, scrutinizing every detail. But this place held a dark history, one that loomed over everyone who entered. The last time they had ventured here, it had been a simple test for new recruits. Simple, until it became a bloodbath. Almost every recruit was slaughtered, and Alphonse had died under mysterious and grotesque circumstances. They'd initially been searching for a fugitive. The fugitive had been found, lifeless, but what happened to Alphonse was far worse. Jacob had been there, and he had reported that Alphonse had perished due to his wounds, but what they had found was something else entirely. Alphonse's head severed, mounted like a gruesome trophy atop a statue on the temple's first level.