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His stomach twisted.

How did I end up here?

But unlike what he imagined, the space was filled with a limited, controlled light from a small lantern placed in the middle of the room. He glanced to the floor bathed in shadows that curled around him like smoke.

He blended into the darkness? No, into the shadows.

Moved through them.

No Diseased soul could do that. They gave their vessels strength, longevity, and healing. Whatever was happening was unheard of.

But this was no common soul. It was a Flare.

Just because it hasn’t happened before doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

All the while, the Serpent rushed inside him with renewed vigor.

Draven’s fury for it thrashed wildly. No!

He was Valen’s son. Now more than ever he resented it, but his father was strong and had passed that strength onto him. He trained for most of his life to harness the power of souls and their Flares. This one would be no different. If it was going to keep him alive, then it would be under Draven’s control.

Nauseous and disoriented, he sucked down deep, shaky breaths until they pulled into his lungs, slow and smooth. The shadows calmed, rippling gently under his bare feet. He lifted a hand, shielding the direct light from the lantern.

This chamber dwarfed the others. Stalactites hung from the ceiling. Below, a few scattered consoles were wired together by thick piping that fed into the open Coffer at the cavern’s center. The lantern was perched atop one station, its glow catching on the spilled suspension gel that clung to the stone as a thin, glistening frost.

A blinking light pulled his attention to a cracked screen atop a console.

Keeping his breathing steady, he allowed the Serpent enough control to give him strength to move. He stumbled over to the machine, dropping the bag to examine the screen.

Dust and debris from the rocky ceiling displayed the partial words: —nce valve release. Steadying his hands, he brushed it away to reveal the rest of the message.

2 day(s) since valve release.

Did he want to know? Honestly, he’d rather not. But he’d also rather be a corpse, and that wasn’t going to change. He reached for the sticky buttons below the screen, tapping them almost at random until he figured out a method to their layout. After what took far too long, the 2 flipped down to a 0.

Then it shuffled. He gripped the edge of the console, his lips tight as the number climbed and climbed. A laugh choked up his throat when it finally stopped.

136,389.00 day(s) since valve release.

Two hundred ninety-one years.

Draven stared at the green numbers, his pulse deafening.

Everyone and everything he knew shouldn’t exist anymore. Dead and gone for centuries by this point.

But if Valen had his way, then they were all still alive. Awake and thriving.

All he knew now was the cave’s darkness, and he wasn’t sure which truth would frighten him more if he ever left.

He kicked the console as hard as he could. The sound reverberated off the walls.

I never wanted to be put in one of these fucking things!

He reeled back and slammed his foot into it again. It dented, the screen shutting off.

I never asked for any of this!

He kicked it again and again until the shell crumpled in an explosion of sparks.