Chapter 4 The Underground Pulse

Chapter 4 – The Underground Pulse

Isaac didn't plan on going anywhere the next day.

He planned to lock the door, shut the blinds, and pretend like he hadn't seen a monster evaporate in front of him, hadn't met a man with metal eyes, hadn't felt his own blood sing with something ancient and angry.

But plans were for people who had choices. And whatever he had inside him-it didn't want to be ignored.

It started as a pulse.

Subtle at first. Like a second heartbeat. A rhythm beneath his skin, under his ribs, deep in his bones. It tugged at him-directionless, constant. An itch that didn't sit on the surface.

By noon, it was impossible to ignore.

By two, he was walking.

He didn't know where. He let his feet follow the pull.

Downside of Greywood: most of the city was dead or rotting.

Upside: if you were weird enough, people left you alone.

Isaac passed two junkies, three dealers, and a man dressed like a Victorian chimney sweep arguing with a lamppost. No one looked twice at him.

The pull led him toward the east side-Thorn Market. Not a real market. Not anymore. Just an old shipping yard overrun by street vendors, gang turf, and half-legal trade. The kind of place you could buy a used car, a cursed ring, and a grenade launcher all in the same alley.

It shouldn't have been calling to him.

But it was.

He crossed the rusted gate, ducked through a tent flapping in the wind, and found himself in front of a corrugated metal door covered in strange symbols. Graffiti, he thought at first. But the symbols hummed when he looked at them.

His chest throbbed in response.

Isaac reached out.

The door hissed open.

No lock. No handle. No warning.

Behind it-a stairwell. Leading down into the earth.

"This is a terrible idea," he muttered. Then stepped inside.

The descent was long and silent. The deeper he went, the warmer it got. The air smelled of incense and metal and something sweet that made his tongue go numb.

At the bottom, the stairs ended in a massive iron door.

Etched into it: the same serpent symbol as the card.

Coiled. Watching.

It opened before he could knock.

Light spilled out-amber, flickering, unreal.

And beyond it: a room that should not have existed beneath Greywood.

Stone floor. High ceilings held up by twisted pillars shaped like writhing creatures. Candles burned in floating sconces, and at the far end, a throne of bone and crystal sat beneath a stained-glass dome that pulsed with magic.

A dozen people turned to stare at him.

Some looked normal. Others... not.

Eyes the wrong color. Skin with shifting patterns. Tattoos that moved. One man had horns curling back from his temples. Another had hands that looked like smoke and bones.

And in the center, a girl maybe a year older than Isaac stepped forward.

Dark skin. Silver eyes. Short-cut hair. Dressed in layered cloth and leather. No weapons visible, but she moved like she didn't need any.

"You're late," she said.

Isaac blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You were marked three nights ago. We expected your arrival yesterday."

He hesitated. "You knew I'd come?"

She smirked. "You think you're the first?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"We're the ones who didn't forget," she said. "When the world buried the bloodlines, when the hunters erased the truth, we held on. We watched. We waited. And now..."

She stepped closer, reached out, and touched his chest-right where the burning had started.

"Another serpent has woken."

Isaac pulled back. "What does that mean?"

She glanced around. The others had formed a loose circle, watching silently. Some with curiosity. Others with wariness. A few with something colder.

"Come with me," she said. "And I'll show you."

"I don't even know your name."

"Call me Selene. That's all you need for now."

Isaac didn't move.

He didn't trust her. He didn't trust any of this.

But he also couldn't walk away.

Whatever this place was... it was connected to whatever was changing inside him. These people-these others-they weren't guesses or questions. They were answers.

So he followed her deeper into the underground.

Past halls carved with serpents.

Past shrines that pulsed with dormant power.

Past locked doors that whispered his name.

Meanwhile, outside, in the streets of Greywood, a man in a hooded coat stood across from Isaac's apartment.

He watched. Waited.

Then tapped something into his phone.

Subject located. Awakening confirmed. Extraction team on standby. Orders?

A reply came a moment later.

Do not engage. Not yet. Let him see what he is. Let him fall in love with it.

The man smiled, teeth sharp and white.

Then bring him in.