"Wait."
Dylan extended the water bottle toward her, his hand trembling slightly.
"Where did you get this?" Ivy asked, taking the bottle from him.
She drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat, and then handed it back.
"This is all I could find. I saved some... just in case I found you," he admitted, his voice laced with relief as he passed her the flashlight.
Ivy's brow furrowed with concern. "What about you?"
Dylan shook his head, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips. "I've got a bit more. But here, take the last battery," he insisted, pressing the battery into her hand.
She studied him for a moment, the shadows playing tricks on her eyes, making him look more worn than before.
"You're talking like we're going to get separated."
A chuckle escaped his lips, though it lacked its usual warmth. "That’s not happening."
Together, they began their ascent, each step creaking under their weight as they climbed the ancient staircase. 
The silence between them was thick, broken only by the distant sound of the door below slamming shut.
Ivy's breath caught in her throat. "Did you hear that?"
"Ignore it," Dylan said firmly, his eyes narrowing as they pushed forward. "We need to keep moving."
They reached the top and pushed open a door. The room beyond was like nothing they'd seen before. Strange markings and carvings covered the walls, and symbols.
"There are three left here. You take one, and I'll handle this one," she suggested, eyeing the symbols.
"But..." Dylan hesitated, glancing at the shapes that seemed to pulse with a life of their own.
"Don't worry," she whispered, a reassuring smile on her lips. "I'm not going anywhere."
He couldn't do anything but nod and head to the other side of the room.
Reluctantly, Dylan nodded and moved to the opposite side of the room. 
She entered a small chamber, expecting nothing more than dust and decay. But something caught her eye—a forgotten journal, its pages yellowed with age.
She opened it. The handwriting was elegant, almost mesmerizing. Her pulse quickened as she realized it wasn't just any book. 
It was a guide, a detailed account of the ritual and, more importantly, how to end it. But her heart sank as she noticed half of the journal was torn away, the critical pages missing.
"Dylan?"
Her voice trembled as she called out, but it wasn’t her voice that answered. Instead, a vision flickered at the corner of her eye.
She turned to see Dylan, standing by the door, his back to her. He took a step, moving deeper into the shadows.
Panic seized her. Clutching the journal tightly, she darted after him.
"Ivy... where are you going?" 
He reached out, gripping her arm just as she started down the staircase.
She spun around, as their eyes locked.
"I-I saw you... going down," she whispered, confusion clouding her features.
His grip tightened, his heartbeat quickening. "There's just one room left. We have to hurry."
They rushed inside, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The walls were lined with old, faded photographs, their subjects long forgotten.
"Ivy... what's that you're holding?" He asked, noticing the worn journal clutched in her hands.
"An old journal... it’s got everything—like someone wrote it down, hoping—"
Before she could finish, he snatched the journal from her, his eyes scanning the pages with increasing urgency.
"There's a missing piece," he muttered, frustration evident in his tone.
She nodded, "We need to find it." 
She took the journal back, her fingers trembling as she slid it into her shoulder bag. It was their only hope now.
"But where? We don’t even know where to start looking," his voice edged with doubt.
"Ivy?"
Both of them froze at the sound of a familiar voice. Slowly, they turned toward the door, dread washing over them as they realize that Ethan standing outside.
Their eyes met, and Dylan shook his head, a silent plea for caution.
"B-Brother?" 
"Ivy... open the door. Who are you with?" Ethan's voice was calm, almost too calm.
"W-wait, I’ll open it," she stammered.
As Ivy reached for the door, Dylan’s eyes darted around the room. He spotted a small metal object, a makeshift weapon that could knock someone out cold. His hand closed around it, and he moved swiftly to the side of the door, hidden in the shadows, ready for whatever or whoever was about to come through.
Ivy aimed the flashlight at the door, her breath hitching as she slowly pushed it open. The moment she did, Ethan burst through, and Dylan was already moving.
"Dang it!" Ethan yelled, ducking just in time to avoid Dylan's wild swing.
Dylan stepped between Ivy and Ethan, his stance protective, eyes sharp with suspicion.
"Dylan?" Ethan's voice was filled with disbelief.
"You really think saying my name is all it takes to convince us?" Dylan sneered, his grip tightening on the makeshift weapon.
Ivy took a step back, her heart pounding as she tried to figure out if it was really her brother standing before them. But no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t spot anything off about him.
"Hey! Are you going to hurt me? I'm her brother," Ethan stated. 
"That’s exactly what an impostor would say," he spat.
"What do I have to say for you to believe me?" Ethan asked.
"Nothing." With that, he lunged at Ethan, metal object in hand.
But Ethan was quick—too quick. He dodged the strike, grabbed Dylan's arm, and twisted it just enough to make him drop the weapon. Then, with a swift flick to Dylan's forehead, he sent him stumbling back.
"Ouch!" Dylan winced, stepping back and nearly losing his balance.
Ivy cried, rushing to his side, "Dylan!"
"Think, Ivy!" Dylan gritted his teeth. "How do we know it’s really him?"
Ethan’s stern expression softened as he looked at his sister. "I’m not here to hurt you, Dylan. But you're hurt, and this isn't helping. Look! you're still hurt, but that fight wasn’t bad."
Ivy’s eyes darted between the two of them, her emotions swirling in confusion and relief. 
Ethan’s gaze softened, his voice lowering. "Ivy, you know it’s me. I would never hurt either of you. You have to believe me."
Unable to hold back any longer, she ran to Ethan, wrapping her arms around him tightly. 
"Brother..." she whispered, tears threatening to spill as she held onto him, the fear slowly melting away.