The girl's lips moved again, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aira leaned closer, heart pounding against her ribs, each beat a warning drum in her ears.
The na repeated over and over, like a prayer. A na Aira had never written into existence. A na that did not belong to this world.
Her stomach twisted.
Soone else was here.
Soone she hadn't created.
How?
Aira swallowed, pushing the thought aside. She had to focus on the girl first.
The prisoner's eyes flickered open, dull and lifeless, yet sothing stirred within them—a sharpness buried beneath exhaustion, a small ember of awareness in the vast cold void. She wasn't completely broken. Not yet.
Aira reached for her. "Hey, can you hear ?"
The girl flinched at the contact, recoiling as far as the chains would allow. The iron dug into her raw, bloodied wrists, but she didn't cry out. Her reaction was chanical, instinctual, the reflex of soone who had learned that touch ant pain.
Aira quickly withdrew her hand.
She wasn't afraid.
She was expecting pain.
Aira clenched her jaw, forcing her voice to stay calm. "I'm not going to hurt you."
No response.
The girl stared at her, hollow and wary, her eyes glassy pools of tornt. The torchlight above flickered, casting shifting shadows across her gaunt face. Aira could see the outline of her ribs beneath the tattered remains of what had once been a dress. Her collarbone jutted out sharply, her skin pale with an almost waxen quality, as if the dungeon itself had drained the life from her.
Aira glanced around. She didn't have much ti.
"Listen," she whispered, careful not to let her voice carry. "I can help you get out of here."
That caught the girl's attention. Her cracked lips parted, but no words ca out. She simply stared.
Aira's stomach churned.
She had no idea how long this girl had been down here. How many people had made her promises. How many had broken them.
She had to try sothing else.
"...What's your na?"
A pause. Then, the girl's lips moved again, shaping the sa na she had whispered before.
Only this ti, Aira was close enough to hear it clearly.
And when she did, her blood turned to ice.
It was a modern na.
Not sothing from this world.
Not a na that belonged to anyone here.
Aira's breath caught in her throat.
"...What did you say?" she whispered.
The girl didn't respond.
Her head slumped forward, her matted hair falling over her face like a burial shroud. The dungeon seed to grow colder, the air thick with the scent of damp stone, rot, and sothing worse—the unmistakable tallic tang of blood that had long seeped into the floor.
Aira's hands trembled.
It wasn't possible.
This world was hers. She had created it. Every kingdom, every law, every cruel, twisted detail.
So how...?
How was there soone here she didn't write?
Aira turned, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The torches on the walls flickered violently as if disturbed by an unseen presence. The damp stone walls pressed inward, the cell narrowing, suffocating. For a mont, she swore she heard whispers slithering through the air, voices just beyond comprehension, hissing between the cracks in the stone.
She took a shaky step back.
Sothing was watching.
She felt it—an oppressive gaze, a weight pressing down on her shoulders, seeping into her skin like oil. The darkness beyond the torches no longer felt empty. It felt vast. Hungry.
A soft, wet sound echoed in the silence.
Drip.
Drip.
Aira's eyes flicked to the ceiling. A dark stain stretched across the stone, thick and glistening, pulsating like an open wound. A drop of sothing viscous fell, landing on her hand. She recoiled, wiping it off with frantic urgency.
The prisoner stirred.
Aira turned back just in ti to see the girl's fingers twitch. Her body jerked, convulsing in small, unnatural spasms before going still again.
Aira hesitated. The girl's breath was uneven, rattling in her chest.
"Hey—"
The girl moved faster than Aira thought possible.
Her head snapped up, eyes wide and filled with sothing deep and naless—sothing wrong. A smile stretched across her cracked lips, too wide for her face, her teeth jagged and stained.
Aira stumbled back.
The girl's voice was a whisper, but it was no longer weak. It slithered through the air like a knife dragging across bone.
"You shouldn't be here."
Aira's stomach dropped.
Before she could react, the torches flickered out, plunging the dungeon into complete darkness.
The last thing she heard was a single breath, slow and deliberate, inches from her ear.
Not the prisoner's.
Sothing else's.
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