A tense stillness filled the forest, broken only by the hushed voices of the gathered humans. Moonlight filtered through the thick canopy, casting long, twisting shadows over the ancient trees. The air held no scent of blood or sweat—just the crisp dampness of the earth, disturbed only by the faint glow of the magical formation at its center.

  Then, a presence.

  It was subtle at first, like the shifting of the wind, like a ripple in the fabric of the world itself. The gathered humans stiffened, their instincts stirring even before their minds could register it.

  Then, It spoke.

  "You're all gathered here… Why?"

  A voice. Calm. Steady. Too steady.

  Aelith froze. Caelum’s fingers curled slightly at his sides. Antru's eyes widened ever so slightly, his aged face betraying a flicker of surprise. He had prepared himself for a monstrous presence—something primal, unknowable—but this? This was something else entirely.

  Thorne, however, did not waver. He had expected this. His expression remained impassive, though his mind raced. There was no denying it—the entity before them had changed. It felt more… material, more real than before. The fleeting, shifting thing they had encountered before had now become something more tangible.

  Frid trembled. His hands clenched, his breath hitched, and for a brief moment, it seemed like his body might collapse under the sheer weight of his emotions. His skeletal face twisted, tears welling up in his hollow sockets, spilling down his exposed cheekbones.

  "It returned…" His voice broke, raw with overwhelming reverence. "It returned to us!"

  The others barely acknowledged him. They were too focused on the entity standing before them.

  Thorne took a slow step forward, keeping his stance neutral, measured. "You're back," he said smoothly. "We thought you had disappeared for good."

  He had rehearsed this. They had planned for this. His words were carefully chosen, his tone deliberately casual. If It suspected anything, their plan would crumble before it even began.

  Eo remained still, unreadable.

  Thorne gestured toward the formation, feigning a sense of ease. "There’s something interesting here. A discovery we thought might intrigue you."

  He turned slightly, leading It toward the carefully prepared site. He made sure his movements were slow, deliberate, not giving any sign that this was a carefully laid trap.

  Aelith followed a few steps behind, her gaze flickering between Thorne and the entity. Her mind spun with thoughts. The formation itself was intricate, crafted from interwoven magical formulas—an art in itself. But now, she found her attention shifting.

  This thing… It’s different than before. More solid. More… aware.

  Eo followed without hesitation. Not out of trust, but curiosity.

  And as Frid continued to tremble, a reverent smile stretched across his skeletal face.

  "You came back… You came back…" He whispered, over and over, as if uttering a prayer.

  The flickering glow of the formation reflected in Aelith’s eyes as she walked in measured steps, keeping her gaze on It—on the being before them. It was different. More real, more present. The last time they had encountered It, there was something fleeting about Its existence, as though It was a phantom slipping through the cracks of the world. Now, there was weight to It. A presence that pressed against the space around It like an undeniable force.

  And It spoke.

  "You're all gathered here… Why?"

  The voice was not like before—not the eerie, distant murmurs that slithered through the mind—but something more. It was articulate. Steady. A voice that belonged to something aware.

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  Antru, despite his usual restraint, could not fully suppress his surprise. He had not expected this. He had assumed the entity was an anomaly, a thing beyond their understanding, but this? This was something else entirely. His weathered fingers twitched slightly before he controlled himself, masking the flicker of emotion beneath a composed expression.

  Frid, on the other hand, had no such restraint.

  He trembled, not from fear, but from something deeper. Something more consuming. His breath came in ragged gasps, his entire form taut with emotion. His malnourished frame, wrapped in loose robes that clung to his bones, shuddered under an invisible weight. His hands twitched at his sides, his fingers curling and uncurling in frantic motions. But most unsettling of all was his face—or the absence of one.

  Where his features should have been, there was only torn flesh, stripped away by his own hand. A raw, unsettling emptiness. A wound that had long since scarred over, yet remained a gaping reminder of his unnatural existence.

  And now, that faceless gaze was fixed entirely on It.

  "It returned…" The words were whispered at first, then louder, reverberating with raw devotion. "It came back… I knew… I knew It would come back!"

  Caelum cast him a wary glance. Even for Frid, this reaction was extreme.

  "Get yourself together," Caelum muttered, stepping closer to the man, but Frid barely registered him.

  His mind was elsewhere—consumed by reverence. His trembling hands hovered as if he wanted to reach out, to touch, but dared not. The presence of It—of the one he had glimpsed in that underground abyss—was now standing before him. Real. Undeniable.

  Thorne, ever the composed strategist, ignored Frid’s unraveling and took a slow step forward.

  "You’re back," he repeated, voice even, unreadable. "We thought you had disappeared for good."

  There was no reaction from It—at least, not one he could see. No shift in expression, no flicker of emotion. It simply was.

  Thorne had prepared for this moment. He had studied for this, analyzed every possibility, planned every response. And yet… there was something unsettling about standing before this entity now. No amount of planning could erase the instinctual awareness crawling at the back of his mind—an awareness that whispered of something beyond human comprehension.

  Still, he pressed forward.

  "There’s something interesting here," he continued, gesturing toward the glowing formation. "A discovery we thought might intrigue you."

  It was a simple statement. Measured. Nonchalant. If It suspected anything, their plans would crumble before they even began.

  Eo regarded them, unmoving.

  Then, It moved.

  Not with hesitation, nor with curiosity, but with a silent inevitability. As though It had already decided to follow before Thorne even spoke.

  Thorne exhaled quietly, maintaining his composed facade, but his mind was already analyzing, already adjusting. It followed too easily. That could mean two things: either It was playing along, or It truly was curious about the formation.

  Aelith’s gaze lingered on the entity, her thoughts racing. She had studied magic for years, delved into ancient texts, uncovered forgotten knowledge—but nothing she had learned prepared her for this.

  Her curiosity burned.

  It was not just the formation anymore—it was It.

  She had thought It was some anomaly, some unknown creature—but what if… what if it was something more?

  She wanted to ask.

  But Antru’s quiet glance held her back. A silent warning.

  Do not ask unnecessary questions.

  Aelith clenched her jaw, swallowing her curiosity—for now.

  Their group moved, leading the entity toward the formation. The intricate lines etched into the ground pulsed faintly, reacting to the presence approaching it. The magic woven into its design was complex—far beyond standard formations used for capture or containment.

  Aelith, despite herself, couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship. Whoever had designed this formation was not simply a skilled magician. They were something more.

  She stole a glance at Antru.

  He had never spoken of his past, but now she found herself wondering—just how much did he truly know?

  The aged man walked with deliberate steps, his face unreadable, his thoughts a mystery even to those who had known him for years.

  The formation’s glow intensified as Eo drew near. The runes flickered—reacting.

  Aelith felt a shiver crawl down her spine.

  This was not normal.

  This was something else.

  The realization settled over her like a weight.

  The formation had been designed with precision—crafted to react only to something specific.

  And now, it was responding to It.

  Aelith’s breath caught.

  Just what were they dealing with?

  Frid, oblivious to all else, let out a shaky breath, his faceless countenance twisted with overwhelming emotion.

  "You returned…" His voice was barely a whisper now, choked with something between awe and madness. "You returned to me…!"

  Tears spilled freely down his exposed skin, his body trembling with reverence. He had known—known—that It would come back.

  His devotion had not been misplaced.

  Aelith barely spared him a glance, too focused on the scene before her.

  The formation pulsed. The air grew heavy.

  And for the first time since they had encountered It, Aelith felt something strange creeping at the edge of her mind.

  Doubt.

  Not about the formation.

  Not about the plan.

  But about whether they had ever truly understood what they were trying to capture.

  And whether they had just made a mistake.