Evelyn didn't sleep. She burned.
Her eyes snapped open to a world that was no longer hers. The forest twisted—branches curled like fingers, bark pulsed like breathing skin. Shadows bled colors she didn't recognize. She was drenched in sweat and still shivering, her limbs wracked by tremors.
Torren crouched nearby, half-covered in mud and ash, watching her like she might explode.
"Evelyn?" he asked softly.
His voice arrived late—sliding into her ears half a breath after his lips moved. Sound lagged. Light blurred.
Her mouth opened, but no words came. Only breath, sharp and smoke-laced.
A golden glow throbbed from her sternum—under skin, behind bone. It flickered in rhythm with something new inside her. A second heartbeat. Older. Hungrier.
"She's burning up," Torren muttered, dragging another sodden cloak over her. "Dammit, Evelyn…"
He looked at her like he didn't know her anymore. Like he wasn't sure if he should hold her or run.
Evelyn's fingers curled against the mossy ground. The earth whispered. Trees watched. There were threads around everything—thin lines of glowing resonance between root and stone, leaf and air. And she could feel them. Hear their songs. Half-tuned, half-feral.
She was becoming part of it all. And something inside her… liked it.
A low, thrumming pulse echoed in her skull.
Feed. Forge. Fracture. Rise…
Torren touched her forehead again and recoiled. "You're burning from the inside. Evelyn—what did you do? What was that thing?"
She tried to speak. All that came was a gasp—and a burst of light from her mouth. A flicker of that same gold-fire from the core.
Her body spasmed. A fit overtook her. Her back arched. Her breath caught. And suddenly—
She wasn't there.
She stood in a city of bone.
Pillars carved from tusks, towers rising from broken spines. The wind howled, but there were no clouds—only vast silver rings turning slowly overhead. The city pulsed with breathless song.
At its center stood a figure cloaked in woven stars, face hidden in the cowl. It pointed one long finger toward her chest.
"You swallowed what you did not understand," it said. Its voice was hollow thunder. "And now, the old paths remember you."
"Who—" Evelyn tried to speak, but the words dissolved into ash.
The figure moved closer. Its presence crushed her knees to the ground.
"You were meant to be a key. Now you are a spark. The Hollow remembers. The fire calls."
Suddenly, behind the figure, silver eyes opened in the sky.
Thousands of them.
Staring only at her.
She woke screaming.
Torren slapped a hand over her mouth. "Shhh! Something's out there."
Her body convulsed. Her skin steamed in the cold. Her veins glowed briefly under her skin, then dimmed.
Somewhere in the trees, something howled—long and low.
Not an animal. Not quite Echoed either.
But it had noticed her.
Torren's eyes were wild. He gripped his blade tight and turned toward the sound.
"You have to survive," he whispered, voice cracking. "Whatever you are now."
He crouched by her side and whispered again, "Please… come back."
And Evelyn, barely able to move, tried to smile.
But deep in her bones, the fire was still singing.