Page 100 of Immortal Sun

“You came willingly.” I grin. “They all have to.”

She freezes. “H-how many people?”

“Since when?” I ask. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“How many people have been in this cave?”

I don’t answer her, just walk toward the back of the cave and pull the black curtain. Both walls are littered with names.

Sasha was here.

Ryan was here.

Deb was here.

Axel was here.

On and on it goes.

“Miles,” I say plainly. “This part of the cave will go down for miles. Some have tried to get lost, but the cave will always bring you back to this room until your mission is complete.”

She gasps, covering her face with her hands. “That’s thousands and thousands of people.”

I want to laugh, but I suppress the urge. “Thousands? No, you have to think bigger.”

I grab one of the torches and toss it down the hallway of the cave, it goes up at least seventy feet, and again continues on for three miles. The cave is covered with names, some are scratched with their fingertips, others with blood, some with the pen, dying with dignity but wanting to be remembered.

“It’s a grave,” she says.

“We honor them yearly and you will be the last. Their sacrifice gives the world life. Don’t you want to add your name now?”

More tears come, flowing down her face.

“Get to work.”

I start to walk away when she grabs my shirt. Nobody dares to grab me, touch me, or even talk with me as much as this one.

I’m again thankful for Kratos and what he did.

My heart is ice.

She’s too warm.

I jerk away.

“How many interns has the museum had?” she asks. “In the last… say, century?”

“New interns?” I shrug. “The last century?” My smile is hollow. “Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine…I’m old.”

She gasps. “Why?”

“See?” I turn and point at the names. “You’re not special. Congratulations, you wrote an excellent resume, but the common denominator here is that you’re all the same. Fascinated by something you have no understanding of. Play with fire, you will get burned.” I lean into her and press my mouth against hers blowing ice against her lips. “Look into the fire, and you’ll be lost.”

“What if I prefer that to this?” she asks, lips trembling with cold, tears frozen on her pretty cheeks.

“Trust me when I say death is preferable to the life I’ve seen.” I don’t tell her she has good moments, beautiful moments, soul crushing moments that would maybe make it worth it. I’m selfish. I want nothing more than to leave and finish my task. “In the end, you get everything you think you want and then you lose it, there is nothing for you here. I’m doing you a kindness.”

I leave out the birth of her daughter.

---