The heart of the cave resembled the entrails of a stone creature, slumbering since the dawn of time, a vast expanse of utter darkness with no end in sight, as if light itself had been banished from its domain.
The air was denser here, saturated with an ancient scent, a blend of silent stone that preserved the memory of ages past, and a chill that seemed to emanate from the very core of the earth.
Drops of water fell from unseen heights, each drop echoing faintly like the whispers of angry ghosts.
The ceiling stones were jagged and uneven, bearing sharp protrusions like the fangs of beasts from forgotten ages, glinting dimly under the scattered glow of bioluminescent fungi.
Amidst all this, she lay, motionless.
Her turquoise armor reflected a faint light into the darkness, its golden edges gleaming like sparks adrift in the void.
At the center of her chest-plate, a blue gem pulsed with a faint glow, like the beating heart of a living being, a frail symbol amid this absolute nothingness.
At last, she moved, her motions heavy with reluctant necessity.
Pain flooded her body as she propped herself up on one elbow; the rough ground beneath her showed no mercy to her skin.
Her long red hair, like the trail of a bleeding wound, clung to her damp back.
"So... I'm still alive" she thought, a mixture of wonder and resentment coloring her mind.
Her breathing was ragged, but instinctively she assessed the damage, only superficial wounds, nothing fatal. She would live.
Her blue eyes stared into the suffocating darkness surrounding her.
She didn't recognize this place.
The last thing she remembered was the cursed gate.
"That damned thing" she muttered as she forced herself to stand: "Of all places, it throws me here."
The silence was suffocating, as though it were woven into the very stones themselves.
Before her stretched a narrow corridor, a beckoning... or a threat, spiraling deeper into the darkness.
There was no going back.
"Fine" she said, her voice dipped in desperate sarcasm, before taking her first step.
The cold crept into her bones, but she pressed forward, her hand trailing along the rocky wall for balance.
Veins of metal shimmered faintly in the dim fungal light, only to vanish swiftly like stars hidden behind heavy clouds.
The farther she went, the narrower the tunnel grew, the damp walls closing in as if whispering for her to turn back.
The darkness pressed against her chest like a tangible weight, yet she moved on.
"Hold yourself together, Azaros" she whispered to herself, voice barely audible: "There's always a way out... always."
In the distance, a faint light began to flicker, feeble, but real.
Her heartbeat quickened, a ripple of hope weaving through her, urging her steps forward with newfound determination.
The tunnel opened into an enormous hall, so vast its walls dissolved into shadow.
She held her breath for a moment, not because of the cavern's sheer size or darkness, but because of the floating orbs hovering in the air.
Ethereal spheres of light glowed in hues of blue, green, and violet, shifting gradually as though they were breathing.
Their glow reflected across the rocky ground, drawing patterns that looked like impossible dreams... or awaiting nightmares.
"What is this place?" she whispered, frozen in place.
She blinked, feeling her breath catch in her throat.
"This... this is incredible."
The nightmarish grip that had ruled the cave seemed to fade, replaced by a tranquility that bordered on the sacred.
Small pools dotted the uneven floor, their surfaces shimmering faintly beneath the lights emitted by the hovering spheres.
And at the heart of it all, a massive structure rose, towering amidst the gloom.
She stared at it, a slight furrow between her brows, then murmured under her breath, as if she could scarcely believe it:
"Is that... a temple?"
Her eyes roamed over the structure's details before her voice returned in another whisper:
"What is a temple doing in a place like this...?"
Her steps slowed as she examined the colossal structure before her.
It was massive, built from pale limestone, eroded by time yet standing stubbornly, as if defying decay itself.
Wide steps led up to an arched entrance, flanked by towering columns.
Each column seemed a masterpiece, carved with astonishing precision, depicting humans and beasts locked in eternal struggle — their frozen faces a mixture of pain and defiance.
"Well..." she said, attempting to lace her voice with sarcasm, though it came out dry, "I guess we've found the heart of the cave."
But her words fell into the heavy silence surrounding her.
A strange feeling began pressing against her chest, not from the air, but from the sheer gravity of the place itself.
This was no mere abandoned relic; it was alive in a way she could not explain, a guardian of truths long hidden in the shadows.
Her gaze was drawn upward to the dome that crowned the chamber.
At its center was a massive mural, its colors improbably vivid.
She froze completely when her eyes fell upon the central figure, a figure with fiery red hair, standing triumphant amidst chaos.
In one hand, she held a severed head raised high; in the other, a sword wreathed in living flame.
Around her, soldiers writhed in agony, their bodies consumed by fire.
The mural was not just a painting.
Its energy was palpable, as if the battle still raged within the stone.
And the face, the face was disturbingly familiar.
She whispered, barely audible: "Impossible..."
But the resemblance could not be denied.
The wild hair, the piercing gaze, the aura of destruction, it was like staring at a reflection, twisted by time and myth.
A shiver ran down her spine as a coldness seeped deep into her core.
"Lugalbanda, you old fraud," she muttered bitterly, her voice thick with accusation: "you were right all along."
The old sorcerer's warnings echoed through her mind warnings she had once dismissed as hallucinations.
But here, in this forgotten temple, everything poured into clarity.
Her fate had been carved into stone long before she was born.
And no amount of running, no denial, could erase it.
"So this is it" she whispered softly, a faint, enigmatic smile touching her lips.
"It seems I wasn't running from my destiny... I was walking toward it all along."
She approached the temple with steady steps, and paused at the threshold, her fingers gently brushing a nearby column.
She whispered, a mixture of awe and challenge in her voice:
"What secrets have you guarded with such stubbornness, you ancient stones?"
Inside the temple, a faint, ethereal glow dominated the chamber.
The floor was adorned with mosaics, their vibrant colors defying the gloom.
Columns rose toward the lofty ceiling, their surfaces alive with carvings of celestial beings locked in eternal dances.
She moved slowly and quietly, her eyes drawn toward a stone altar resting at the far end of the room.
Its cracked surface bore the scars of time.
Around its edges, mysterious symbols had been etched, each one pulsing faintly, as if breathing with the very air of the place.
Yet it was not the altar that caught her attention, it was the severed arm that lay upon it.
Huge, of an unbelievable size.
It was no human arm, but something larger... something greater.
Her fingers extended along the length of it.
The skin was a pale, bluish hue, stretched tightly over massive joints, as though carved from ancient stone.
The veins seemed like frozen rivers, pulsing with solemn silence, and the dark ring encircling the middle finger was no mere ornament, it was a corroded shackle.
The severing was brutal, jagged, as if the arm had not been cleanly cut but violently torn away.
She held her breath, her mind struggling to grasp the magnitude of what she saw.
This was no mere relic, it was a fragment of something colossal, a being whose feet once trod the earth in a time long forgotten.
The air grew heavier around her, as if the arm itself radiated a hidden gravity, an invisible force pulling her closer, despite the fear creeping steadily into her core.
She whispered, her voice hoarse and nearly swallowed by the crushing silence:
"What kind of giant was this...?"
The room drowned in an eerie stillness.
She stood frozen in place, her eyes fixed on the severed arm, as if she feared that blinking might allow it to move when she wasn't looking.
Her fingers trembled faintly, as if some invisible force were pushing her toward it.
But she stopped abruptly, an inner instinct screamed at her: Don't touch it. Don't awaken what sleeps within!
Yet curiosity was a ravenous beast gnawing at her mind.
One step... then another... until she was but a breath away.
And when she raised her hand to touch the cold surface, it felt as though she were reaching into a world not her own.
Then, in a single instant, everything changed.
The moment her fingers brushed against it, a fierce surge of energy exploded through her body.
A deadly cold seeped into her bones.
A sharp chill crawled up her spine.
The air around her grew heavy, as if being drawn into the arm itself.
Then, the arm moved.
Its giant fingers twitched slowly, like a beast awakening after an age-long slumber.
The slight twitch turned into a sluggish contraction... Then, suddenly, the fingers lunged, clamping around Azaros like a child grasping a toy.
She felt the air rush out of her lungs.
Her voice disappeared into a muffled scream, her words crushed under the weight of the grip.
"No! Let go of me!" she screamed, but her voice barely reached the chamber walls.
The grip tightened.
The force she felt was like a mountain collapsing upon her.
She struggled, thrashed, but the arm was indifferent to her resistance.
And then the transformation began... The black substance crept in slowly.
It seeped like a cursed liquid, flowing through the gaps in her armor, burrowing into her skin.
The sensation was not merely cold, it was a presence, with weight, with consciousness, with will.
It infiltrated her body as if searching for something... something to fill... something to control.
Then, the black veins appeared.
The first dark thread etched itself across her skin...
then another...
and another...
pulsing faintly, as if pumping new life into her — but it was not her life.
"No... this is impossible!" she screamed.
Her nails dug madly into her skin, but she couldn't stop it.
The black matter burned beneath her flesh, crawling without mercy.
The black veins spread, weaving a network of corruption that wrapped around her arm, choking it, subjugating it entirely.
With every pulse, Azaros felt her control slipping... little by little.
The arm was no longer an external threat, it had become part of her, slipping into her blood, into her essence, devouring her from within.
"Get out of me!" she cried, her voice fractured by terror and desperation.
Then... the itching began.
At first, it was only a faint prickling sensation in the palm of her left hand.
But it quickly turned into something stranger, a feeling as if her skin itself was shifting.
She gasped in shock, her gaze locking onto her trembling hand.
And then... the change began.
The skin rippled, twisted, as if something were pressing from within...
Then, an eye opened.
A cold, alien eye, staring back at her with cruel mockery.
It was black as an endless abyss, its narrow pupil pulsing with malevolence.
Her limbs stiffened.
The shock froze her entire body.
But it didn't end there... Beneath the eye, another form began to take shape, a nose, then a mouth... Lips twisted into a distorted smile, dripping with absolute derision.
"What?!" Azaros cried out, her voice trembling, barely able to believe what she was seeing.
Then the mouth opened.
A sound emerged, like the murmur of water, but saturated with a creeping cold that slithered into her very core.
"Ah..." the voice came, ragged, as if tasting life for the first time after eons of silence: "What a pleasure... to finally meet my savior."
Azaros stood paralyzed, her eyes widening in stunned disbelief.
The voice was mocking... dark... soaked with triumph.
"How long I have waited for this moment!" the voice continued, savoring every word it uttered: "Ages spent in the void, watching, waiting, searching for a worthy host for my power. And at last... here we are."
"What are you?!" Azaros shouted, her voice a mixture of fear and fury: "And why have you bound yourself to me?!"
The hand's smile widened even further, as if mockery itself danced upon its lips.
"Me?" it whispered, its tone dripping like slow poison: "I am an ancient spirit... a force buried long ago. I have awaited you patiently, and now..."
It laughed, a low, chilling laugh thick with certainty: "You are mine."
"I won't let you control me!" Azaros cried, her jaw clenched with unyielding defiance.
The voice grew softer, yet even more steeped in mockery: "Oh, but you have no choice."
Then, slowly, the hand whispered — its words ringing in her mind like a tolling bell: "I am part of you now... I have woven myself into your very essence. You are no longer merely human... you are an extension of me."
Azaros glared at her palm, her eyes narrowed with fury.
"I will fight you" she spat.
The hand laughed again, its words dripping with cruel certainty: "You cannot resist me... nor rid yourself of me."
"Soon, you will be mine entirely. You will be nothing more than a vessel for my will."
It paused, as if savoring the taste of its own words, then continued with a voice that oozed a dreadful promise: "Through you... I shall rise again."
But Azaros had never been one to surrender easily.