Veil of crimson shadows

The silence was suffocating. Caleb blinked, his vision blurred by the crimson light that had swallowed him whole. When the world came back into focus, he was no longer in the warehouse. He stood in a vast void, the air heavy with an unnatural stillness.

The mask was in his hand, its surface now cold and unyielding. Caleb's reflection stared back at him, but it wasn't quite right his eyes were darker, shadows curling at their edges like smoke.

"Where am I?" he murmured.

"You are within the threshold," the deep voice intoned.

Caleb spun around, his heart pounding. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Shapes began to form in the darkness indistinct figures with hollow eyes and twisted smiles.

"The threshold?" Caleb asked, his voice cracking.

"A place between worlds," the voice replied. "A nexus of power and consequence."

The mask seemed to pulse in his hand, and Caleb could feel it alive, ancient, and watching.

"I didn't ask for this," he growled, his fear giving way to anger.

"You took the mask," the voice countered. "And with it, you accepted the burden. There is no undoing what has been done."

Before Caleb could argue, the void began to ripple, the shadows growing restless. Whispers surrounded him, incoherent but insistent. He clutched the mask tighter, his knuckles white.

"What do you want from me?" he demanded.

The voice softened, almost a whisper itself. "To uncover the truth. To wield the power. To survive."

The world shifted again, the void dissolving into the cold, damp reality of the warehouse. Caleb gasped, collapsing to his knees. The mask still pulsed in his hand, its crimson carvings now dimmed.

"Caleb!"

Theo's voice cut through the haze, and Caleb turned to see his friend rushing toward him. Theo's face was pale, his eyes wide with panic.

"You were gone," Theo stammered. "One second you were there, and then... nothing. What the hell just happened?"

Caleb opened his mouth to respond but stopped short. How could he explain what had just occurred when he barely understood it himself?

"I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice hoarse.

Theo's gaze fell to the mask. "That thing... it did something to you, didn't it?"

Caleb didn't answer. He stood, his legs unsteady, and shoved the mask into his coat pocket.

"We need to leave," he said, his voice firm.

"But"

"Now, Theo."

Reluctantly, Theo nodded, and the two men hurried out of the warehouse. The night air was sharp against Caleb's skin, but it did little to clear his mind. Every shadow seemed alive, every sound amplified.

As they made their way through the Iron Quarter, Caleb couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

"Where are we going?" Theo asked, breaking the tense silence.

"To someone who might have answers," Caleb replied.

"Who?"

Caleb hesitated. "An old friend. If he's still alive."