The Gate of Shadows

The sun was beginning to fall behind the western hills when they reached the edge of the Temple Mount. Al-Aqsa stood before them, vast and impenetrable, its silver dome catching the light like a polished warning. This was once the Templars’ stronghold, the cradle of their order, their myth, and perhaps their final lie.

They stood outside the secured perimeter, just far enough to blend with the crowd. Security was tight. Soldiers with rifles watched every passerby with wary eyes. Jessica knew better than to push her luck. The vaults beneath Al-Aqsa were sealed, off-limits to anyone without state permission. Even Shamir hadn’t dared arrange entry.

But there was another way. Shamir led them around the eastern edge of the Mount, down a narrow path that few tourists noticed. Olive trees clung to the hillside, their roots gripping the stone like fingers in prayer. At the base, half-hidden beneath vines and broken paving stones, they came upon a rusted gate. Shamir produced another key. It was ancient, made of iron, and humming with an unspoken weight.

“It’s part of the old Templar escape routes,” he said. “Most believe they’re collapsed. Most are wrong.”

They stepped into the dark. The tunnel sloped downward, musty and slick, the walls a fusion of Crusader limestone and older, Roman-cut stone. Torches flickered to life in sconces, Shamir lighting them as they passed.

After twenty minutes, the passage opened into a tall circular chamber, the walls were carved with symbols that predated language. Jessica paused at the threshold. Something in her spine tightened.

“It’s here,” she said softly. “I remember this.”

Leanna gave her a look. “You’ve never been here.”

Jessica stepped inside. “Not as me.”

As her boots touched the center of the chamber, her body jerked in a convulsion. She fell to her knees. The world spun, and darkness swallowed her.

* * *

She was Jason. Strapped to the chair, screaming. The machine above him whirred. Faces moved around him, faceless. Voices speaking in a dozen tongues. Hebrew. Latin. Arabic. Greek. His body flailed. His mind began to tear.Then: stillness.

A girl’s voice. Calm. Hollow. “He is no longer viable. Initiate Transfer 3.0.”

Pain surged through her body followed by a blinding white light. She tried to scream, but couldn’t. Instead, she opened her eyes bringing her back to this world

* * *

Jessica gasped and curled into herself, shaking. Her fingernails scraped the stone floor. Leanna was at her side in seconds, cradling her, whispering her name over and over.

“I saw it,” Jessica choked. “The chair. The lab. Jason… he didn’t survive. He was a failed vessel. I’m not his continuation. I’m the result.”

Leanna held her tighter. Olivia crouched nearby, pale and silent.

Shamir stepped forward, not unkindly. “You saw what was meant to be hidden. That memory was never yours to carry, but it found its way into you regardless.”

Jessica looked up, her face pale but hardening. “There’s more. There was someone else, another vessel. They called her 3.0. That wasn’t me. That came before.”

Shamir nodded. “Then what you seek lies deeper still. And perhaps farther away.”

Jessica stood, slow and unsteady. Her face was wet with sweat, her breath ragged, but her eyes were clear.

“Where?”

Shamir’s expression was unreadable.

“Latrun.” He paused before continuing, “A monastery west of the city. Built over older ruins. If they stored anything physical. scrolls, relics, names, it would be there. Hidden beneath what men now call sacred.”

Jessica nodded.

“The final lock,” she said.

And in the shadow of a forgotten chamber, they turned back toward the light. But none of them would walk out the same.