The catacombs groaned with a deep, guttural sound, as if the earth itself protested Sioux and Caedric’s retreat. The ground beneath their feet shifted and cracked, the sigil’s influence lashing out in its fury. 

“Faster!” Caedric shouted, his lantern swaying wildly as he led Sioux through the collapsing tunnels. 

Sioux’s legs burned with effort, but they didn’t dare slow down. Behind them, the oppressive darkness seemed alive, chasing them with tendrils of shadow that writhed and reached out like grasping hands. They could still feel the shard’s pull, even as they fled, its cold presence gnawing at the edges of their mind. 

The whispers hadn’t stopped, either. They were quieter now, more like a murmur in the distance, but they still clung to Sioux’s thoughts like cobwebs. 

"You can’t escape."
"You’ve already lost." 
"Come back, Sioux…" 

Sioux gritted their teeth and pressed on, their boots skidding on the uneven stone floor. “This whole place is coming down!” they yelled over the growing cacophony. 

Caedric glanced back at them, his face set in grim determination. “It won’t collapse completely. The Masquerade wouldn’t let their secrets be destroyed. But the sigil is trying to trap us—it doesn’t want us to leave.” 

“Great,” Sioux muttered, their breath coming in ragged gasps. “Just what I needed—an angry artifact with abandonment issues.” 

The archivist didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, his eyes narrowed as he spotted a faint glimmer of light ahead. “There!” he called, pointing. “The exit!” 

Sioux pushed themselves harder, their lungs screaming for air. The tunnel ahead widened, and the faint glow of moonlight spilled through the jagged opening. Relief surged through them, but it was short-lived. 

A low growl echoed through the tunnel, freezing them in their tracks. 

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Sioux said, their voice low. 

Caedric cursed under his breath, his hand moving to the hilt of the blade at his side. “The sigil’s guardians,” he said grimly. “They’re meant to protect the shard—and destroy anyone who threatens it.” 

Before Sioux could respond, the shadows ahead began to shift and ripple. From the darkness emerged three figures, their forms humanoid but twisted. Their skin was pale and stretched tight over skeletal frames, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light. Each one carried a weapon—blades, clubs, and jagged implements that looked like they had been forged in a nightmare. 

Sioux raised Bonnie and Clyde, the twin pistols gleaming in the faint light. “I assume talking this out isn’t an option?” 

The lead guardian snarled, its voice a guttural rasp. “Intruders… must… pay.” 

“Didn’t think so,” Sioux muttered, leveling their pistols. 

The guardians lunged as one, their movements unnaturally fast. Sioux fired, the crack of gunfire echoing through the tunnel. The first shot caught one of the creatures in the chest, sending it sprawling, but the others were unfazed. 

Caedric drew his blade, the steel flashing as he parried a blow from one of the guardians. “They’re not invincible,” he shouted, ducking another swing. “But they don’t go down easily!” 

“No kidding!” Sioux snapped, firing again. The second guardian staggered but didn’t fall, its glowing eyes locked on them with deadly intent. 

The fight was chaotic and brutal, the confined space of the tunnel leaving little room to maneuver. Sioux dodged and weaved, firing shot after shot as the guardians pressed their attack. Each one seemed to move with a purpose, their strikes aimed with precision. 

Caedric fought with a quiet efficiency, his blade cutting through the air with practiced ease. He moved like a man who had faced death countless times before, his expression calm and focused despite the chaos. 

Sioux, on the other hand, fought with raw determination. Their movements were less refined, more instinctual, but no less effective. They fired until Bonnie and Clyde clicked empty, then switched to their knife, slashing at anything that came too close. 

Finally, with a desperate lunge, Sioux drove their blade into the last guardian’s chest. The creature let out a shriek, its body disintegrating into ash as the sigil’s energy dissipated. 

Breathing heavily, Sioux wiped the sweat from their brow and glanced at Caedric. “That all of them?” 

The archivist nodded, lowering his blade. “For now.” 

Sioux didn’t like the sound of that, but they didn’t have time to dwell on it. The tunnel behind them was still collapsing, the sigil’s rage echoing through the stone. 

“Let’s go,” Caedric said, grabbing Sioux’s arm and pulling them toward the exit. 

They stumbled out into the open air, the cool night breeze hitting them like a wave. The moon hung low in the sky, its light casting long shadows across the desolate landscape. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply stood there, catching their breath and staring at the ruins of the catacombs behind them. 

Finally, Caedric broke the silence. “You resisted the sigil,” he said, his tone a mix of admiration and curiosity. “Not many can do that.” 

Sioux glanced at him, their expression unreadable. “I had to. That thing… it’s dangerous. Whatever it wants, it’s not good.” 

Caedric nodded slowly. “You’re right. But resisting it has consequences. The sigil doesn’t forget, Sioux. It doesn’t forgive. It will come for you again.” 

Sioux’s jaw tightened, their hands clenching into fists. “Then let it. I’m not afraid of it.” 

The archivist gave them a long, searching look. “You should be.” 

As the night stretched on, the weight of what they had escaped—and what lay ahead—settled heavily on both of them. 

The sigil’s pull might have been left behind, but its shadow loomed large over their future.