Passage Between Wells

The new corridor was narrower than the last. The air was denser too—like walking through layered breath.

Kai led this time. The orb’s light had etched a path into his vision, not as lines, but as feeling. A direction his body seemed to know even before his thoughts caught up.

Sienna followed, one hand tracing the wall’s faint pulse. “The broken well,” she murmured. “It’s calling, but it’s twisted. Unheld.”

Kai didn’t answer. The farther they walked, the more the passage shifted around them—not physically, but emotionally. They could feel the frequencies of different wells brushing against them like wind through memory.

Laughter. Grief. Rage. Stillness.

Then: distortion.

A static crackled through the air. The stone ahead darkened, its light flickering unevenly, like a heartbeat skipping. The walls pressed closer. And just before panic could rise, they reached a threshold.

It wasn’t a door.

It was a divide.

A thin veil of rippling energy separated them from what lay beyond—like a curtain stitched from old soundwaves and broken dreams. Kai paused.

“This is it.”

Sienna’s voice shook. “Do we even know what’s on the other side?”

Kai looked at her. “No. But we know what happens if no one answers.”

He reached forward, and the veil parted—not broken, but invited.

They stepped through.

The distortion ceased.

And in its place: a cold, breathless quiet.

Something was waiting.