Lukas stumbled backward, landing hard on the stone floor.
"What the hell—!" Ben shouted as the others rushed toward him.
They froze, staring at the serpents, now weaving through the air like twin ribbons of light and gold. Then—without warning—they vanished into the surrounding shadows, as if swallowed by the ruin itself.
And the door… began to open.
The moment the serpents moved, Lukas staggered back—but not far.
A low hum pulsed from the obsidian door, reverberating through the water, up through their bones. It was subtle, but impossible to ignore—like the sound of something vast and intelligent stirring beneath the surface of the world.
"Did that thing just move?" Ben asked, stunned.
"What the hell is this place…?" Ruby murmured, eyes wide.
Even Albert, still damp with tears, pushed to the front, awe overtaking panic. "Is it… some kind of mechanism? A trapdoor?"
The archaeologists were the first to break formation and approach, stepping past the students with reverent urgency. One of them—a wiry man with dust-streaked glasses and a weather-beaten journal tucked under his arm—stepped up beside Lukas, nearly breathless.
"We can't ignore this," the archaeologist said, his voice trembling with restrained excitement.
"Do you understand what this could mean? A structure like this… with moving mechanisms? Unknown alloys? This isn't just a ruin—it's pre-civilization technology. Possibly older than recorded history. This could change everything."
Another archaeologist reached out, brushing his fingers over the golden serpent's tail. "It's warm... This metal isn't in any of our databases. It's not titanium. Not copper. It's like it's... alive."
And then, like starving animals catching the scent of food, the team surged forward.
They flooded into the darkness, flashlights cutting through the black corridor beyond the obsidian door, voices echoing off ancient stone.
"Shouldn't we wait?" a younger officer asked hesitantly, eyes darting between the shifting serpents and the disappearing scientists. "What if it's dangerous?"
But no one was listening anymore.
Their fear had been devoured by something far stronger—and far more dangerous.
Wonder.
Lukas didn't move. He stood in silence, watching them disappear one by one, like moths drawn into a fire. His fingers still tingled from touching the door. Every instinct screamed wait.
And yet—despite the warnings, curiosity won.
The archaeologists vanished into the threshold, their excited chatter fading into the stone.
The police officer lingered, tense, then exhaled through his nose, gripped his weapon, and followed—his flashlight sweeping cautiously across the walls as he vanished into the dark.
Now only the kids remained—dripping, cold, shaken—huddled near the waterlogged entrance like castaways clinging to a shrinking island.
Then Albert stood.
"I'm not staying out here alone," he muttered, forcing confidence into his voice. "I'm going."
"Wait—" Ben started, reaching out.
Too late.
Albert took off into the corridor, his steps loud and hurried, chasing after the flickering lights ahead.
Lukas remained behind with the last two classmates, eyes fixed on the black doorway. The shadows inside felt alive, like they were watching.
Ben looked at the dark threshold, then back at Lukas. "Lukas… what should we do? Should we go in?"
Lukas's eyes remained fixed on the black door, its frame still pulsing faintly with an unnatural hum. "I… I don't know," he admitted. "But nothing's happened to the others yet. They just walked in…"
ruby interrupted, voice rising with forced optimism. "So it's safe, right?"
Lukas hesitated. "Maybe."
Ben nodded as if convincing himself. "Then let's go. I don't like being away from the crowd." He reached out and helped Lukas to his feet, his grip firm despite the tremble in his fingers.
Together, the two boys and ruby stepped through the black doorway, leaving behind the soft drizzle.
when all entered the room the door closed by itself , seeing it fear began to unfold in everyones face .
then a officer in rage went near a archelogist held him and yelled " this is all your fault if you hadnt told to investigate this place then we wouldnt be in this shit"
Before anyone could react further, a sharp whoosh cut through the silence—too fast to track, too clean to be human.
The officer's head snapped clean off.
For a heartbeat, his body stood upright, still holding the archaeologist by the collar. Then it collapsed in a heap, blood spurting violently across the stone floor. His severed head rolled to a stop near one of the students.
The archeologist's eyes widened in disbelief. His scream echoed—
—and was instantly silenced.
Another slash. Another arc of crimson.
His head tumbled beside the officer's, lips frozen mid-scream.
Panic exploded.
No one screamed.
They wanted to. Every instinct begged for it. But instinct also told them—if they did, they would die.
The air was too still. The silence was no longer safety—it was a trap.
Ruby's eyes welled with tears, but she bit them back. Her trembling hand clamped over her mouth, smothering the scream clawing up her throat. Her body shook uncontrollably.
Ben stood frozen, his fingers twitching, his face pale and expressionless, like a statue awaiting a verdict.
lukas didn't move. His red eyes weren't on the corpses, nor on the blood beginning to crawl across the floor.
He was staring at the walls.
Then, without warning, the ground at the center of the chamber groaned.
Stone shifted.
A wide, circular platform rose slowly from the floor—a sacrificial altar, ancient and etched with concentric rings of symbols, each line pulsing with dim, ominous light. Blood grooves ran outward like a spider's web, waiting to be filled.
Then, the silence cracked.
A voice—not human, not entirely real—echoed across the chamber. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once, vibrating in their bones and filling their lungs like drowning.
"One must be sacrificed... in proper manner... if others wish to live."
The torches lining the ruin's walls ignited with black fire. Shadows writhed across the ground like serpents. The temperature dropped. Everyone instinctively backed away from the center of the room, forming a ring of trembling figures.
Ruby clutched Ben's sleeve, her knuckles white. Lukas stared into the darkness, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
He whispered, "W-What do they mean... proper manner?"
"Offer with intent. Not fear. Not hatred. Not guilt. Willingly."
He turned to the others. "It's not just asking for a sacrifice... it's demanding a choice."
all started to panic, whispering, shifting. One man stepped back, then another. The adults—archeologists, police—stood paralyzed. The head archeologist whispered, "This must be a test. A ritual gate..."
Ben's voice cracked. "What happens if no one steps forward?"
The torches flared brighter.
Then the voice returned—colder, closer.
"Refusal... is disobedience. Disobedience... is death."
And one of the archeologists burst into flames without warning—silent, sudden, absolute. Ash fell where he stood.
The chamber screamed in silence.
see that the group broke down.
Panic splintered whatever unity remained. The adults clutched their heads, whispering prayers, thinking of spouses and children left behind. The kids clung to one another, some trembling, others crying silently, minds filled with the faces of their parents—of home.
Then a voice cut through the chaos.
"Lukas..." albert pointed, his voice shaking but sharp with desperation. "Yes. Lukas. You should be the sacrifice. Your parents are already dead. You don't have a family... so it won't matter."
The words hung in the air like poison.
Ben snapped. He grabbed albert by the collar and slammed him against the wall. " i had enough ,how dare you say that?! If we weren't trapped here, I'd beat the hell out of you!"
"Ben, stop." Lukas stepped forward, his voice calm.
"But—"
"It's okay," Lukas said softly. "There was no lie in his words."
He looked at the ground, eyes distant .
Lukas looked around at the others—fearful, pleading, broken. Then he exhaled.
"If someone must die... let it be me. I have no hatred. No fear. No guilt. And I'm choosing this. Willingly."
Ben's eyes welled with tears. "Lukas, stop joking. Please... I can't let you die."
then he holds lukas "You're my best friend... my only real friend."
Lukas placed a hand on his shoulder. "And that's exactly why I have to."
Lukas took a step forward.
The others watched in stunned silence as he climbed onto the sacrificial altar. Every footfall echoed like a countdown.
As his feet met the center sigil, his head jerked back—a sharp pain stabbed through his skull. He clutched it, staggering.
Then—the voice returned, fragmented and strange, as if spoken by a god fractured through time:
"The vessel is marked. The pact is old. The conditions are met. The price… is accepted."
A hush fell over the chamber.
Lukas looked up—his body trembling, not from fear… but from understanding. His gaze swept across the room one last time. He smiled softly, even as his form began to shimmer.
Ashes.
He was disintegrating, piece by piece, like smoke being drawn into the sky.
"Goodbye," he whispered.
Ben surged forward, panic seizing him. "Lukas, no—!"
He tried to reach the altar, but two policemen grabbed him, held him back.
"Don't!" one shouted. "It's too late!"
Ben struggled, screamed, clawed—but Lukas was already fading, his outline dissolving into glimmering fragments that floated upward… then vanished completely.
Silence.
The altar slowly sank back into the stone.
A moment later, with no sound or flash, the great door creaked open once again—and every person inside stepped out.
The sunlight hit their faces.
They were standing at the base of Nandi Hills. The ruins behind them were gone. No carvings, no entrance. Nothing but grass and wind.
The sun was shining. The birds were chirping. There was no sign of a storm. No broken ground. No ruin. Just open sky and the distant sound of a tea vendor yelling across the parking lot.
Their teacher ran toward them, red-faced. "Where have you all been?! You can't just disappear like that on a field trip!"
Ben blinked at her, confused. "What are you… talking about? We didn't…"
His voice trailed off.
Something was missing. He tried to remember what it was—why his heart was pounding so hard—but the thought slipped away like mist.
"…What was I saying?" he murmured.
He turned to look behind him. For what, he wasn't sure. A person? A door? A name?
But there was nothing.
The rain had never come. The ground had never split. And Lukas… had never existed.
At least, that's what the world now believed.