Levi's mind raced, his instincts screamed to flee, but his body was rooted in place, shackled by fear.

He was certain— sure of it. His voice had been sucked into the murals, devoured like breath into lungs, and the voice that resounded out was his… but older, weathered.

It sounded desperate.

His voice managed to soak into a total of five murals and text.

The voice continued, disregarding the individual in front of him.

Hearing the voice, levi's eyes snapped to the first mural. Figures, vaguely human, knelt in rows. Their hands were clasped together, foreheads pressed to stone.

The shapes of their bodies were blurred, as though carved in a hurry, but the posture was unmistakable— prayer.

From the stone, his older voice leaked out, trembling with weariness—

"Forgive us, Mother… for we know not what we were doing."

The sound vibrated through Levi's bones, and before he could draw breath, the second mural stirred.

A procession of shapes— shadowed figures dragging chains behind them— bent beneath a towering spire. At its tip was a hollow circle, as if something should rest there but never did.

His voice followed, low and breaking—

"We raised towers to the void… but none answered."

Levi's chest tightened. His eyes, without thought, flicked to the third mural as the walls groaned.

A horde of figures, mouths open in silent screams, pressed against one another. Their faces were carved without eyes, their hands reaching upward like drowning men.

The words came with a rasp, ragged with despair—

"We called, and only silence came back."

Levi's throat was dry. His own voice— but not his— moved on.

The fourth mural showed a single figure, larger than the rest, raising a blade above a circle of kneeling forms. Their necks bowed willingly to the edge. The carvings were crude, but the meaning dripped like blood.

The wall spoke, almost a plea—

"We gave all that we had… and still it was not enough."

Levi shuddered, his body jerking like he could break free of the invisible chains of fear. But the fifth mural burned before his eyes.

The carving was stark. A single, massive figure— neither man nor woman— loomed over a sea of broken bodies. Its hands stretched wide, palms hollow, as though waiting to receive something never given.

The final words tore from the stone, brittle with despair—

"Mother… do not turn away from us."

The echo crawled across the chamber like a dying breath, and Levi realized his heart was hammering so hard it hurt.

The murals stilled. The silence that followed was worse than the voice.

The chains of fear binding Levi loosed, cold sweat dripping down his skin. His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, and for the first time since the voice began, he dared to move.

His boot scraped softly against the stone floor— too loud in the choking silence. The sound bounced back at him, swallowed by the murals, as if the walls themselves were listening.

Levi's gaze darted between the five carvings. Their surfaces had dulled, frozen in stillness, yet he could not shake the feeling that the stone was watching him… waiting.

His throat tightened. He swallowed, the motion dry and sharp, and forced a single step backward.

The echo of his movement trembled in the chamber. To hell with acquiring anything from this place.

'Am out of here'. He started to move back steadily, afraid something would jump at him if he dared to look away.

But then his eyes strayed— past the five murals that had already spoken— toward the rest of the wall.

There were more.

Dozens. Maybe more than dozens. They stretched into the dim edges of the chapel, their details drowned in shadow, yet their shapes tugged at him. Half-seen figures bent, reached, clawed, pleaded— each scene locked in silence, as if holding its breath.

Levi froze. His mind screamed leave, but another thought crawled in, quiet, poisonous.

What if the story isn't finished?

The words crept like spiders across his skull, digging their legs deep. He licked his lips, though his mouth was desert-dry.

'You've heard the beginning. Don't you want to know the end?'.

His stomach turned, bile threatening to rise. It was madness, plain madness, to even consider it. But the pull of those unseen murals gnawed at his bones, an itch under the skin that no blade could cut out.

He shifted his weight, staring into the shadows that hid the other carvings. His pulse thudded in his ears.

'System'. He rasped, barely above a whisper, 'if I… if I speak again…'.

The silence in his mind stretched, longer than it ever had. Then finally, the voice returned, flat, mechanical— yet faintly strained.

[Then more of the wall will answer.]

Levi's breath caught. The system's voice had never sounded like that before.

A nervous laugh scraped up his throat, strangled before it left his lips. His fists clenched, knuckles white.

He knew he should turn and run. He knew it. But his eyes… his cursed eyes wouldn't leave the shadows, wouldn't leave the promise of the next mural waiting there, patient, hungry.

'Just one more'. He thought. 'One more story won't kill me... Right?'.

And I plain madness he decided to stay.

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