I WILL FOLLOW YOU TO THE GRAVEYARD

The Voice in the Dark

The entity lurking under the Fourth Grave did not emerge; it simply waited. Somehow, that made everything worse.

The chasm widened beneath the shattered armory, casting shadows over the stones. The darkness engulfed everything nearby, yet nothing crossed the threshold—not yet.

Exodus held his sword high, ready for anything.

Behind him, Lyra struggled to her feet, frost forming around her fingers. "Exodus," she called, but he remained silent, unable to look away. Something was watching him from the darkness—not with eyes, but with the Graveyard itself.

All the graves he commanded had fallen silent.

Suddenly, the sirens grew louder, and a heavy metal door above them burst open. "Paladins!" Lyra shouted as boots thundered down the corridors, first dozens, then hundreds. General Viktor's forces had arrived.

Exodus finally glanced at the entrance. White-armored soldiers poured in, their weapons glowing with holy light. Silver chains hung at their waists, and sigils blazed on their shields. At their center stood General Viktor. He halted as soon as he saw the chasm, his expression shifting from anger to fear. "You opened it," Viktor murmured, eyes wide.

Exodus narrowed his gaze. "You know what that is," he accused.

Viktor didn't respond to him, his attention fixed on the darkness. "I know what it means."

From the floor, a weak, wet laugh escaped Darius, the former colonel. His body was battered, blood and gray fluid staining his chest, yet his eyes were open. "You should have killed me," he taunted.

Exodus turned to face him, and Darius smiled. "Now they all know."

Viktor's face hardened. "Silence, Ironheart," he commanded, but Darius only laughed again. "You still call me that?" he said, shifting his gaze to Exodus. "Tell him, General."

Viktor raised a hand. "Execute Ironheart," he ordered. Paladins stepped forward, but Exodus moved to stand between them and Darius. The soldiers lifted their weapons, and Lyra joined Exodus, frost-daggers ready.

"Move," Viktor demanded, but Exodus replied softly, "No."

Viktor's jaw tightened. "That man killed three hundred of my soldiers."

"And he knows what's beneath that grave," Exodus countered.

Fear flickered across Viktor's face, though just for a moment. Exodus caught it. "You don’t understand what you’re standing next to," Viktor warned.

"Then explain it," Exodus insisted.

"I can’t," Viktor confessed.

Exodus frowned. "Can’t?"

Viktor glanced at the chasm. "Because no one who knew the truth lived long enough to tell it."

The room trembled. Everyone froze as the darkness in the Fourth Grave pulsed. Thump. The sound wasn't loud, but every paladin heard it, and a few dropped their weapons.

Another pulse. Thump. The walls shook, and inside Exodus's mind, the Graveyard reacted. Dry whispers urged him: Close it. Seal it. Do not listen.

Exodus gritted his teeth. "How?" he asked.

The whispers went silent, then one voice spoke. It has to choose you.

Exodus stilled. "What?"

The darkness shifted, not outward, but inward, as if something on the other side had inhaled. Then, a voice emerged from beneath the earth—not a roar, but a whisper. "Exodus."

Every hair on his body stood on end. Lyra looked at him, astonished. "It knows your name."

Exodus remained silent.

The voice came again, closer. "Exodus Thorne."

The darkness rippled, and Viktor stepped back, genuine fear etched on his face for the first time. "Don’t answer it," he warned.

"Why?" Exodus asked.

"Because it’s been waiting for you," Viktor replied, his voice low.

Silence filled the room until Darius began to laugh again. Exodus glanced down at the former colonel, who smiled despite his pain. "You still don’t get it," Darius said, coughing up gray fluid. "The First Pit didn’t wake up because you broke my Iron-Core." He turned his gaze to the grave. "It woke up because you came back."

Exodus's expression hardened. "What are you talking about?"

"You died once, Commander," Darius revealed. The room seemed to grow colder. "And when you came back..." He grinned. "...something came back with you."

Exodus felt a shift in his chest. For the first time, the Graveyard felt foreign, as if something had entered without his knowledge.

A memory flashed before him—a battlefield, thousands of bodies, a younger Exodus standing among them. And behind him, a shadow that didn’t belong to anything alive.

Exodus stumbled, the vision vanishing. "Exodus!" Lyra grabbed his arm, but he pulled away. "No."

He turned to face the Fourth Grave. The darkness continued to watch him.

Then, from the other side, two enormous eyes opened. Not red, not green, not human—ancient silver. They locked onto Exodus.

Paladins screamed. Some fled. Viktor dropped to one knee. Even Darius fell silent.

The entity beneath the grave spoke, its voice resonating through the armory. "You took my death."

The stone beneath Exodus cracked. "You stole my kingdom."

The Graveyard quivered. "And now..." The darkness surged upward. "...you will return what belongs to me."

Exodus raised his sword, and the emerald runes blazed. "Come and take it," he challenged.

The eyes narrowed, and then the darkness disappeared. The chasm sealed shut.

Silence reigned. Exodus stared at the sealed stone, waiting. Nothing happened for a few seconds.

Then he glanced at his left palm. A black mark had appeared, small and ominous, like an open grave.

As he touched it, a voice whispered in his mind. Seven doors. Exodus's eyes widened. One has opened. The mark burned. Six remain.

Then the sensation faded. Exodus slowly closed his hand.

Behind him, Viktor murmured the words none of them wanted to hear. "The Seven Doors."

Lyra turned to Viktor. "Do you know what they are?"

Viktor looked at Exodus, his face pale. "No," he admitted. "But my predecessors did." He swallowed hard. "And they spent centuries ensuring no one ever opened the first one."

Far below, something scratched against the other side of the sealed Fourth Grave. Once. Twice. Three times.

Exodus examined the black mark on his palm. The scratching ceased.

One last whisper echoed in his mind. Find the other six.

Exodus looked toward the ruined entrance, surrounded by paladins. For the first time since his return, he questioned whether he was hunting the dead, or if the dead had begun hunting him.