The thick mist grew denser as Lira and Arka approached the base of the Dead Volcano. It wasn't the usual cold and damp kind of fog, but one that felt heavy, almost copper-scented, and seemed to possess a will of its own. Every step became slower, and faint whispers—less like piercing dark energy and more like wind carrying sighs—began to echo around them.
"I don't like this fog, Lira," Arka whispered, gripping his machete tightly. His skin tingled, not from the cold, but from the strange sensation brought on by the mist. "It feels… like something's watching us."
Lira nodded, goosebumps rising on her arms. "The dark energy is stronger here. And… I can hear other whispers. Very old ones." She squeezed Arka's hand, seeking reassurance. The ancient tree's power she had absorbed earlier that morning now helped her sense the layers of energy around them.
They kept moving, their vision obscured by the blinding white fog. The trees around them looked shriveled and dead, as if their vitality had been drained. The ground beneath their feet felt cold and hard—nothing like the rich soil of Arka's garden.
Suddenly, Lira felt a strong pull on her energy, as though an unseen hand was drawing her toward something. It wasn't dark energy—it felt ancient and urgent. "This way!" Lira pointed to the right, through the fog. "I feel something. A… calling."
Arka hesitated. "What kind of calling?"
"I don't know," Lira admitted, but her eyes sparkled with a strange certainty. "But it's not a wicked whisper. It feels like… a memory."
They followed the pull, pushing through dry underbrush. After several minutes, the mist thinned slightly, revealing a sight that made Arka gasp. Before them, hidden behind the ruins of large moss-covered stones, were the remains of an ancient gate.
The gate was made of deep black stone, once towering and grand. Now, most of it had crumbled, leaving only two large pillars still standing—etched with carvings almost worn away by time and moss. The symbols were the same unfamiliar ones Lira had seen in the book from her dream, and the ones she had found on the ancient tree.
"This is it!" Lira whispered, her eyes fixed on the gate. "This is the place, Arka! These are the ruins I saw in my dream!"
Arka stepped closer, touching the cold, rough stone. "I've never heard of a place like this," he murmured. "Too ancient. Too… hidden."
Lira ignored him. She stepped forward, placing her hand on one of the gate's pillars. Instantly, a faint blue light flickered from her hand, touching the carvings. The scent of eternal dew suddenly filled the air, battling the metallic tang of the fog. The carvings on the pillar seemed to come alive, their symbols glowing softly.
"This… this is the Gate of Kayangan!" Lira breathed, in disbelief. "But why is it here? Why on Earth?"
But as Lira touched the pillar, she felt something else. Beneath the faint aura of Kayangan, a familiar cold aura crept from the cracks in the gate. Dark energy. It was hiding within—or beyond—the gate.
Suddenly, the ground around them began to tremble. Not like an earthquake, but a deeper, more focused vibration, as though something massive beneath the earth was awakening. The mist around them spun faster, forming a vortex. The whispers in the air became clearer, more urgent.
"Open… divide… rise…"
The voice was no longer a soothing ancient whisper, but a thunderous roar from within the earth itself, as if the planet was speaking. And from within the collapsed gate, a thicker darkness began to seep out, like black ink spreading through water.
Arka pulled Lira away from the gate. "Lira, we have to go! Something's wrong!"
But Lira couldn't move. Her eyes were locked on the seeping darkness. She saw flashes again in her mind: not ruins, but a dark throne in the middle of a chasm, and upon it, a giant shadow with glowing red eyes slowly rising. Then, she heard another voice—a familiar one. Her father's voice. King Eldrin, shouting in despair.
Lira screamed—not from fear, but from horror at the vision. "Father! No!"
In Kayangan, in the grand crystal hall, King Eldrin suddenly coughed, fresh blood trickling from his nose. The star map before him trembled violently, and a dark ripple from Earth struck the star representing Kayangan itself.
"Your Majesty!" cried Fairy Elarion, rushing to him.
King Eldrin clutched his chest, his face pale as ash. "Too late… the gate… it's begun to awaken…" His eyes closed, and one last whisper escaped his lips—a name he hadn't spoken in centuries. "Malakor…"
Back on Earth, Lira felt a tremendous mental pressure, as if an ancient entity was reaching out to her through the gate. Lira knew now—this wasn't just about her anymore. This was a threat that could devour both Kayangan and Earth. And the entity beyond the gate… the one called Malakor… it now knew she was here.