The ground beneath the altar groaned open like jaws yawning after a thousand years.
A staircase spiraled down into complete darkness.
From the edges of the platform, the glowing lines on the ground pulsed again—this time red.
A voice rose from everywhere and nowhere. Deep. Layered. Not human.
"The Heir must pass through the Veins of the Deep.
He must reach the Heart before the light fades.
If he fails, both shall be entombed.
There is no path for the Father."
Mike stepped forward. "Like hell there isn't—"
But the floor shook violently.
A wall of stone surged up between them.
Adam turned in panic. "Dad!"
"I'm here!" Mike slammed his fists against the barrier. "I'm right here!"
He couldn't see Adam now. Just the cold wall. The stone was humming, like it was alive.
Then silence.
—
Adam took a step down the spiral, alone.
Torches along the walls lit one by one with blue flame as he descended. The deeper he went, the louder the hum in his ears became.
But now it had rhythm.
A beat.
Like a heart.
At the bottom of the staircase: a circular chamber.
No doors. No windows.
Just one thing in the center:
A golden hourglass, hovering in the air, its sand black as oil. Beneath it, a glowing path of tiles leading into a dark corridor shaped like a vein.
The voice returned.
"The moment you touch the sand, the trial begins."
Adam stepped forward. He reached for the hourglass—his hand trembling.
Then…
He flipped it.
The corridor walls lit up—pulsing red like living tissue.
And the ground beneath him moved.
The path was shifting. Tiles collapsing.
Spikes shot from the sides.
The corridor became a deadly, moving maze.
Adam ran.
He didn't think—he just moved. His ears guided him—he could hear the traps before they triggered.
A hiss. A creak. A high-pitched whine.
His senses weren't a curse here—they were his only weapon.
He dove. Rolled. Slid under collapsing arches.
A blade nicked his shirt. Fire grazed his side.
But he kept going.
He heard his father's voice, echoing faintly behind the wall above:
"YOU CAN DO THIS, ADAM! KEEP MOVING!"
The sand in the hourglass above was almost gone.
Ahead, a massive door pulsed with red light.
It looked like a beating heart, carved from stone and bone.
He reached it.
A final panel on the ground blinked with the symbol of the scarab.
He jumped—slammed both hands down.
The door burst open.
Light filled the corridor.
And then—silence.
Adam collapsed on the ground, gasping.
Behind him, the corridor sealed shut.
But he was alive.
He had passed.
And somewhere behind the stone, Mike was still banging the wall—his voice raw.
Until it cracked open.
The wall between them split in two, and father and son stared at each other—both trembling, both changed.
Mike rushed forward and grabbed his son in a tight embrace.
Adam whispered, "I could hear… everything."
Mike said nothing.
He just held him tighter.