Chapter 7: The Cycle Returns

The air beyond the gate was heavy, as if the atmosphere itself carried the weight of centuries. A faint hum vibrated through the cavern, resonating deep in Coza’s chest. The light from the symbols had faded, leaving only the dim glow of Edna’s handheld lamp to guide them forward. The chamber felt alive, its walls carved with ancient patterns that twisted and turned like veins, pulsating faintly with energy.

Coza hesitated, his boots echoing softly against the damp floor. “What is this place?” he asked, his voice low, as if the space demanded reverence.

Edna paused ahead of him, her silhouette stark against the pale light. “The Harbor was built over ruins older than any of us realize,” she said. “This isn’t the first civilization to tame this coast, and it won’t be the last. What you’re seeing here is a remnant of something that came before—all that’s left of a world that couldn’t hold itself together.”

She didn’t look back as she spoke, her words tinged with a tone that suggested she’d been here before. Coza clenched his jaw, his gaze drifting to the sphere tucked within his coat. Its faint pulse matched the rhythm of the hum around them, as if it recognized this place—or was recognized by it.

“Keep moving,” Edna said, her lamp swinging in an arc. “We’re not alone down here.”

The corridor widened into a vast, circular chamber, its ceiling lost in the darkness above. Massive columns stretched upward, their surfaces etched with more of the strange, glowing patterns. At the center of the chamber stood a pedestal, its surface carved with a basin that radiated an eerie, golden light. The glow illuminated the room in shifting patterns, casting fleeting shadows that made the space feel even larger.

Coza stepped forward, his boots crunching against the stone. The air carried a faint, metallic tang, like rusted iron. He kept his hand on the sphere, its warmth a strange comfort against the cool, damp air.

As they neared the pedestal, a voice rang out, deep and resonant, as if the room itself had spoken.

“Who disturbs this place?”

The sound wasn’t a threat, nor was it welcoming. It carried an authority that demanded attention, a presence that wrapped around Coza like a cloak. He froze, his breath caught in his throat. Edna, however, stepped forward without hesitation.

“We seek understanding,” she said. Her voice was calm, but Coza caught the tension in her posture. “The Harbor is shifting. We need to know why.”

The room fell silent, the only sound the distant drip of water. Coza glanced nervously at Edna, but her gaze was fixed on the pedestal. Then, slowly, the light from the basin began to shift. It swirled like liquid gold, rising in tendrils that twisted into shapes—vague, ephemeral, but unmistakably humanoid.

The figures formed a circle around the pedestal, their heads bowed as if in mourning. Their voices echoed as one, overlapping in an eerie harmony.

“The cycle returns,” they said. “As it has before. As it will again.”

Coza stepped back instinctively, his grip tightening on the sphere. “What are they talking about?”

Edna’s expression darkened. “History doesn’t repeat itself,” she murmured. “It rhymes.”

The figures turned their faceless heads toward Coza, and the golden light seemed to brighten, focusing on the sphere.

“You carry a shard of the First Forge,” they intoned. “A spark of what was lost.”

Coza’s breath quickened. “I don’t know what that means.”

The voices overlapped, growing louder. “It is not what it means to you. It is what it means to them.”

“Enough!” Edna snapped, stepping between Coza and the glowing figures. “We’re here for answers, not riddles. What does the Harbor face? What does this artifact mean for us?”

The figures faltered, their forms flickering like dying flames. The pedestal’s glow dimmed slightly, and the hum that filled the chamber grew softer.

“The Harbor rests on broken foundations,” the voices said, quieter now. “Its heart beats on borrowed time. The artifact you hold will awaken what lies beneath—and with it, the choice to end or begin.”

Coza’s heart pounded. “I didn’t ask for this,” he said, his voice cracking with frustration. “I don’t want any of this.”

The figures tilted their heads in unison. “It does not matter what you want. The spark chose you.”

Before Coza could respond, the golden light flared, and the figures dissolved into mist. The chamber grew still, the hum fading into an oppressive silence.

Edna turned to Coza, her expression unreadable. “We need to leave. Now.”

“What was that?” Coza demanded, his voice rising. “What did they mean, ‘the spark chose me’? And what’s beneath the Harbor?”

Edna grabbed his arm, her grip firm. “This isn’t the place for explanations. We’ve been here too long.”

Before Coza could argue, a sharp, metallic screech cut through the air. The sound reverberated through the chamber, setting his teeth on edge. Edna’s head snapped toward the entrance, her eyes narrowing.

“They’ve found us,” she said, her tone grim.

Coza’s stomach dropped. “Who?”

Edna didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled a sleek weapon from her coat—a compact firearm with a faintly glowing barrel—and motioned for Coza to move. “Keep behind me. Don’t stop for anything.”

The screeching grew louder, accompanied by the heavy thud of footsteps. Coza caught a glimpse of movement in the corridor—shadows too large to belong to any human. His blood ran cold.

Edna fired a shot into the darkness, the weapon’s recoil almost imperceptible. A burst of light illuminated the corridor, revealing a hulking, insectoid machine. Its legs clattered against the stone as it advanced, its multiple eyes glowing a menacing red.

“Run!” Edna shouted.

Coza didn’t need to be told twice. He bolted toward the far end of the chamber, the sound of gunfire echoing behind him. The pedestal’s glow flickered as he passed, casting erratic shadows across the walls. The corridor ahead was narrow, its walls close enough to scrape his shoulders as he sprinted.

The sound of pursuit was relentless. The machine’s legs tore into the stone, its screeches mingling with the sharp cracks of Edna’s weapon. Coza’s lungs burned as he pushed himself forward, his mind racing. He didn’t know where he was going—only that he couldn’t stop.

The corridor spilled into an open cavern, its ceiling glowing faintly with bioluminescent moss. A narrow ledge ran along the cavern’s edge, overlooking a sheer drop into darkness. Coza skidded to a halt, his heart pounding as he surveyed the space. There was no clear escape.

Edna burst through the corridor behind him, her weapon smoking. “Keep moving!” she barked.

“There’s nowhere to go!” Coza shot back.

Edna cursed under her breath, her eyes scanning the ledge. The screeching grew louder, the machine closing in. Without hesitation, Edna grabbed Coza’s arm and pulled him toward the edge.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

Coza hesitated, his mind screaming at him to resist. But the sound of the machine’s approach left no room for doubt. He nodded, his throat dry.

Edna smirked faintly. “Then jump.”

Before Coza could argue, she leapt, pulling him with her. The air rushed past them, the cavern walls blurring as they plummeted into the abyss. Coza’s stomach lurched, his grip on the sphere tightening.

The darkness swallowed them whole.