In front of him, the cave gaped like the maw of an ancient beast, consuming warmth, sound, and light in equal measure.
At the edge, Riven paused.
A cold wind came from the cave, feeling like fingers on his skin. The mist outside seemed to tell him to go back, but he wanted to see what was inside.
Against the dry fabric, his fingers clenched instinctively at the edge of his coat. His heart continued to race from the previous altercation. No matter how far he walked, he could still hear the beast's cries.
However, this cave felt different.
It wasn't natural.
He took a breath and stepped in.
The darkness welcomed him inside.
Each step echoed—once, twice, then silence. The air was dense, not with dust or dampness, but with something else. It clung to his lungs and felt heavy.y in his chest.
The rough, carved walls were the result of human hands.
Lines scratched along the surface—some shaped like stars, others like wolves, and many more like chains. Endless chains, drawn in chaotic spirals, always wrapping around something.
He held up one hand.
His mark had a slight pulse.
As he moved, his shirt lifted a little, revealing the V-shaped symbol on his chest. It's still there. The curling chain pattern is still present. It wasn't going away.
Now it was more powerful.
it was glowing but faintly.
"Why am I still walking forward?"
Like a leaf caught in a slow current, that thought floats through his mind.
Perhaps going back meant confronting the orphanage. Perhaps staying still felt worse than whatever awaited inside this cursed place.
He looked down as his boot splashed into a shallow puddle of water.
His reflection stared back.
His lips were cracked from the cold, his jaw was clenched, and his face was pale. He leaned closer to his eyes. Something was wrong.
They were no longer merely brown.
Something unsual was present. There was a red glow beneath the surface.
He blinked.
The glow suddenly vanished.
That's when he heard it.
Not quite a sound. It's more like pressure. As if someone were speaking in his mind in a whisper.
"Chains are forged, not born."
Riven whirled.
Nobody.
He stepped back, eyes darting across the stone walls.
The voice wasn't coming from outside. It was coming from within.
It was chilly. As if it had only recently regained the ability to speak after being buried for centuries.
"You took the first step…"
The mark on his chest burned suddenly.
He fell to his knees, clutching his shirt as he gasped.
His vision blurred. Pain seared through his body like molten fire traveling through invisible veins.
"…Now take the chain."
He collapsed, panting, palms scraping against the stone floor.
Then—nothing.
Everything was engulfed in darkness.
Not a word.
Few minutes passed.
Riven suddenly began to breathe heavily.
His eyes snapped open.
The pain was gone. The whisper had also vanished.
He slowly sat up. The cave surrounding him remained unchanged. However, something wasn't quite right.
He looked at his hand.
A black chain was wrapped around his right forearm.
It wasn't metal. Not exactly. It appeared to be alive, with its links pulsing subtly, as though it were breathing alongside him.
He touched it.
It didn't hurt.
However, it also didn't feel lifeless.
He muttered, "What... are you?"
The chain remained silent.
[To Be Continued..]