Chapter 141 — The Path That Should Not Exist
"RUN!"
Brook's voice cut through the chamber.
Xcution moved.
No argument.
No questions.
The roar behind them had answered everything.
Rick grabbed the old man beneath one arm and pulled him forward. The man fought against him immediately.
"No! No, not that way!"
Rick ignored him.
Henry ran beside Sera.
Shoyo was ahead of them.
Crowley stayed close to Brook.
The corridor shook.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Behind them, something struck stone.
Not Azael.
The sound was heavier.
Older.
Mórkr.
Brook didn't look back.
"Brook!"
Sera shouted.
He turned just enough to see a crack opening in the floor ahead.
"Left!"
They moved.
Rick jumped over it.
Henry barely cleared it.
Sera grabbed his arm and pulled him the rest of the way.
Henry looked at her.
"I had that."
"You were falling."
"I was adjusting."
"You were falling."
Brook almost smiled.
Almost.
Then another roar shook the corridor.
This one was Azael.
Sera stopped.
Brook grabbed her arm.
"Move."
Her eyes were fixed behind them.
"I know that sound."
Brook's grip tightened.
"I know."
Azael had nearly killed her.
Brook remembered her on the ground.
Remembered the blood.
Remembered thinking she was gone.
The anger came back immediately.
Cold.
Deep.
Waiting.
Sera pulled herself forward.
"I'm moving."
Brook let go.
They kept running.
The old man suddenly screamed.
Rick nearly dropped him.
"What now?"
The man pointed behind them.
"Close it!"
Crowley stopped.
Brook turned.
"What?"
The man stared at him.
"The path!"
The corridor trembled.
Brook looked toward the chamber they had left.
The open road.
The old path.
Crowley understood first.
"If Mórkr comes through—"
Henry looked at him.
"It can follow us."
Crowley nodded.
"And not just Mórkr."
Brook stared at him.
"Azael."
Crowley nodded.
Brook looked toward Shoyo.
"Can you close it?"
Shoyo stopped.
Her expression hardened.
"No."
Brook stared.
"You're the First Witch."
"And?"
Brook pointed behind them.
"Do something."
Shoyo's eyes narrowed.
"Brook."
Sera stepped between them slightly.
"Stop."
Brook looked at her.
She didn't move.
Shoyo walked toward the wall.
Her fingers hovered over the ancient markings.
"This wasn't made with witchcraft."
Crowley stepped closer.
"Then what made it?"
Shoyo looked at him.
"The old world."
Henry frowned.
"That isn't an answer."
"No."
Shoyo said.
"It is the problem."
Another impact.
The stone beneath their feet cracked.
Brook looked toward the darkness.
"Then we leave."
The old man began laughing.
Nobody liked it.
Brook looked at him.
"What?"
The man looked at Crowley.
"You still don't remember."
Crowley became still.
The man smiled.
Broken.
"You walked through these roads."
Brook turned toward Crowley.
Crowley said nothing.
The old man continued.
"You weren't alone."
Crowley's face changed.
Brook noticed.
A memory had moved behind his eyes.
Crowley whispered:
"Stop."
The man laughed harder.
"You promised—"
Crowley moved.
His hand closed around the man's throat.
Rick immediately shoved him back.
"Crowley!"
Crowley stared at the man.
The old man coughed.
Brook stepped between them.
"What promise?"
Crowley looked at him.
For several seconds—
nothing.
Then he stepped away.
"I don't know."
Brook's patience snapped.
"Then stop saying things you don't know."
Crowley looked at him.
Brook immediately regretted it.
Not because he was afraid.
Because Crowley looked tired.
Not physically.
Older.
More than usual.
Crowley looked away.
"I want to know."
The words were quiet.
Brook stopped.
Crowley looked toward the darkness.
"I just don't remember."
Nobody spoke.
The old man watched him.
Then whispered:
"That is worse."
A new sound came from the corridor.
Not a roar.
Footsteps.
Heavy.
Slow.
Henry looked toward Brook.
"That's not good."
Brook drew his weapon.
Death moved inside him.
Not a voice.
Not words.
A sensation.
Brook suddenly saw something.
Lines.
Thin.
Stretching through the darkness.
Lifelines.
Hundreds.
No.
Thousands.
Brook froze.
Henry noticed.
"What?"
Brook didn't answer.
The lifelines moved.
Some were small.
Some massive.
Many of them—
broken.
Brook stared deeper.
Death's awareness expanded.
He saw through stone.
Through roots.
Through darkness.
Something enormous was moving beyond the chamber.
Its lifeline was unlike anything Brook had ever seen.
Ancient.
Dense.
Wounded.
But not dying.
Brook swallowed.
"Mórkr."
Crowley looked at him.
"You can see it?"
Brook nodded.
Death remained silent.
But Brook felt the meaning.
Old.
The Hunter's lifeline moved again.
Then—
another lifeline entered Brook's perception.
Violent.
Wild.
Massive.
Azael.
The two lifelines collided.
Brook flinched.
Henry stared at him.
"What happened?"
Brook's eyes remained fixed ahead.
"They're fighting."
Sera's face changed.
Brook looked at her.
"Azael isn't coming for us."
"Not yet."
Crowley said.
Brook stared at him.
Crowley looked toward the darkness.
"If Mórkr kills him, we may never have to worry about Azael again."
Sera's expression hardened.
"No."
Brook looked at her.
She looked surprised at her own answer.
Henry noticed too.
"You don't want it to kill him?"
Sera's eyes narrowed.
"I didn't say that."
Brook watched her.
Sera looked away.
"I want Elias to lose him."
Crowley understood.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Fair."
Brook turned back toward the corridor.
But he felt it.
The change.
Death's awareness was expanding further than before.
He could see beyond the ruin.
Beyond the forest.
For a moment—
Brook saw a lifeline far away.
He froze.
It wasn't massive like Mórkr's.
It wasn't violent like Azael's.
It was almost invisible.
Thin.
Calm.
But impossibly long.
Brook's breathing stopped.
The lifeline disappeared.
Death went quiet.
Brook stood still.
Henry snapped his fingers.
"Brook?"
Brook blinked.
"What?"
Henry frowned.
"You disappeared."
Brook looked toward the darkness.
"Nothing."
Henry didn't believe him.
Nobody did.
But Brook started moving again.
They reached the stairs.
The ground shook.
A crack opened beneath Crowley.
Brook grabbed him and pulled him back.
Crowley looked at him.
"Thanks."
Brook released him.
"Don't make it weird."
Crowley smiled faintly.
Rick reached the top first.
He pushed through the opening.
Then stopped.
Brook frowned.
"What?"
Rick didn't answer.
Brook climbed the last steps.
And froze.
The ruins outside had changed.
The forest was still there.
But something had moved through it.
Trees had been uprooted.
The ground was torn apart.
Blood covered the stone.
Henry climbed out behind them.
His face changed.
"Oh."
Sera stepped outside.
She stared at the destruction.
"Mórkr."
Crowley walked past them.
He crouched near one of the claw marks.
"No."
Brook looked at him.
"What?"
Crowley studied the ground.
"This happened before."
Brook frowned.
"How do you know?"
Crowley touched the mark.
Then immediately pulled his hand away.
His head snapped upward.
A memory.
Brief.
Violent.
A forest.
Fire.
The sound of something screaming.
Crowley staggered.
Brook caught him.
"What did you see?"
Crowley looked at him.
"I remember the Hunter."
Nobody moved.
Crowley swallowed.
"Not clearly."
Brook waited.
Crowley looked toward the trees.
"But it was here before."
Shoyo became still.
Crowley noticed.
"You knew."
Shoyo shook her head.
"No."
Crowley stared.
Shoyo corrected herself.
"Not this."
Brook looked between them.
Crowley pointed toward the forest.
"You know what Mórkr is."
Shoyo remained silent.
Then she said:
"I know what stories called it."
Henry sighed.
"Finally."
Shoyo ignored him.
"The Hunter was not feared because it killed."
Brook looked at her.
"Then why?"
Shoyo stared into the trees.
"Because it found things."
Nobody spoke.
Sera frowned.
"What things?"
Shoyo didn't answer immediately.
Then:
"Things that wanted to remain hidden."
Brook thought about the old paths.
The fresh symbols.
Someone opening them.
Mórkr moving where it shouldn't.
His eyes narrowed.
"So it isn't here by accident."
Shoyo looked at him.
"No."
Crowley looked toward the destroyed forest.
"Someone led it here."
Silence.
Henry slowly looked toward the ruins.
"The person opening the paths."
Brook nodded.
The thought returned.
That thin lifeline.
Far away.
Watching.
Or moving.
Brook didn't know.
Death had shown him something.
And then taken it away.
The old man suddenly began struggling again.
Rick tightened his grip.
The man looked at Crowley.
"It's happening again."
Crowley frowned.
"What?"
"The roads."
The man pointed toward the forest.
"They're opening."
Brook looked at him.
"Who are you?"
The man smiled.
Then his expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
Brook followed his gaze.
The trees.
Nothing moved.
Then the man whispered:
"He knows."
Henry frowned.
"Who?"
The old man looked at Crowley.
"Your old friend."
Crowley froze.
Brook turned toward him.
Crowley whispered:
"I don't have friends."
The old man laughed.
"You did."
Crowley's expression darkened.
"Who?"
The man shook his head.
His smile disappeared.
"I don't remember his name."
Crowley stared.
Brook looked at the man.
"Then how do you know Crowley?"
The man looked directly at him.
"Because everyone remembers Crowley."
Crowley looked away.
The man continued.
"Even when Crowley forgets himself."
The forest went silent.
Then—
Mórkr roared.
Far away.
Azael answered.
Brook looked toward the trees.
The battle was still happening.
But something else had changed.
Death stirred inside him again.
Brook saw lifelines.
Not one.
Not two.
Dozens.
Moving.
Through the forest.
Toward the ruins.
Brook stepped back.
Henry noticed.
"Brook?"
Brook raised his weapon.
"They're coming."
Rick drew his sword.
"What?"
Brook looked into the trees.
"I don't know."
The first creature emerged.
A Vardø.
Then another.
Then another.
Henry stared.
"They're coming back?"
Brook's face hardened.
"No."
The Vardø weren't running.
Not this time.
They were following something.
The forest behind them moved.
A figure walked between the trees.
Brook couldn't see its face.
Couldn't see its body clearly.
Only the shape.
The Vardø moved aside for it.
Henry whispered:
"Who is that?"
Brook's senses screamed.
Death's awareness reached toward the figure.
Then—
nothing.
No lifeline.
Brook froze.
The figure stopped.
Far away.
Too far for any of them to recognize.
Then it turned.
And walked away.
The Vardø followed.
Brook stared into the darkness.
Crowley's expression had changed.
"Did you see it?"
Brook looked at him.
"Yeah."
Crowley stared toward the trees.
"I know that feeling."
Brook frowned.
"What feeling?"
Crowley didn't answer.
He looked toward Shoyo.
Shoyo was staring into the forest.
For the first time since leaving Remus—
she looked genuinely unsettled.
Brook lowered his weapon.
The forest became quiet again.
But he knew one thing.
Someone was moving pieces.
Mórkr.
The old paths.
The Vardø.
And whatever had just walked through the trees.
Brook looked toward Crowley.
Crowley whispered:
"Silvet."
End of Chapter 141