_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">Dawn broke over Pompeii for what would be one of the city's final mornings. The sky had taken on a sickly yellow hue, and fine ash continued to drift down intermittently. Citizens moved through the streets with greater urgency now, many wearing cloth over their mouths, others casting nervous gnces toward the increasingly active mountain.

  Elias and Marcus set out early for the Temple of Apollo, determined to secure a position that would give them the best chance of finding the symbol during the midday ceremony. The tremors had continued throughout the night, each one stronger than the st, robbing them of proper rest.

  "How are you holding up?" Marcus asked as they navigated streets now littered with fallen roof tiles and toppled market stalls.

  Elias offered a tired smile. "Better than the st inhabitants of Pompeii on this particur day in history."

  Dark humor, but it earned a brief chuckle from Marcus. "Fair point. But seriously—you look exhausted."

  "Says the man with ash in his eyebrows," Elias countered, then sighed. "I'm functional. Which is all that matters right now."

  The forum was more crowded than expected given the ominous conditions. Citizens had gathered in rge numbers, seeking both information and reassurance from city officials and priests. A town crier stood on the steps of the basilica, reading an official procmation.

  Elias listened carefully, then transted for Marcus. "The city magistrates are acknowledging the unusual conditions but urging calm. They're attributing the tremors and ash to 'disturbances in the celestial spheres' that the gods will soon rectify."

  "That's one way to prevent panic, I suppose," Marcus observed.

  "Standard practice throughout history," Elias replied. "Leaders rarely admit when they don't understand a phenomenon. Better to offer a confident expnation, even if it's wrong, than to acknowledge uncertainty."

  They made their way through the crowd toward the Temple of Apollo, where preparations for the midday ceremony were already underway. Priests in ceremonial attire arranged offerings around a rge altar in front of the temple, while attendants hung garnds of urel—Apollo's sacred pnt—from the columns.

  "We need to get inside before it gets too crowded," Marcus said, eyeing the growing number of worshippers gathering in the temple precinct.

  They slipped through the main entrance, once again finding the temple's interior dimly lit and heavy with incense. Unlike their previous visit, the space was being prepared for a major ceremony. Additional oil mps had been positioned around the cult statue of Apollo, and a pathway of flower petals led from the entrance to the altar.

  "Where should we position ourselves?" Marcus asked, surveying the space with tactical precision.

  Elias studied the architecture, considering how sunlight would enter the building at midday. "There," he pointed to an area near the western wall. "Based on the temple's orientation, that section will receive direct sunlight through the roof opening at noon."

  They took up position in the indicated spot, careful to avoid the increasingly busy temple attendants preparing for the ceremony. As the morning progressed, the temple filled with Pompeii's elite citizens—wealthy merchants, local officials, and visiting dignitaries—all dressed in their finest attire despite the ominous conditions outside.

  "They really have no idea," Elias murmured, watching a patrician woman adjust her eborate hairstyle, seemingly more concerned with her appearance than the ash occasionally drifting through the temple doorway.

  Marcus's expression was grim. "Would they believe the truth if they could hear it?"

  "Probably not," Elias conceded. "Humans tend to normalize even the most abnormal circumstances. It's a survival mechanism, ironically enough."

  The temple gradually filled to capacity as midday approached. Outside, they could hear the growing crowd, as those unable to fit inside gathered in the precinct. The tremors continued at irregur intervals, each one causing nervous murmurs before the assembled worshippers regained their composure.

  "Almost time," Elias whispered as the quality of light began to change, a shaft of sunlight penetrating the roof opening and striking the polished marble floor. "The sun is approaching its zenith."

  The head priest raised his arms for silence, and the assembled crowd grew quiet. He began an invocation to Apollo, his Latin flowing musically as he called upon the god's aspects as healer, protector, and averter of evil. Attendants lit additional incense, filling the chamber with aromatic smoke.

  Elias transted the key passages for Marcus: "He's asking Apollo to restore harmony to the earth and sky, to quell the 'anger of the mountain,' and to protect the city from harm."

  "Too little, too te," Marcus muttered.

  As the priest continued the ritual, the shaft of sunlight moved slowly across the floor, growing stronger and more defined. Elias watched its progress intently, his eyes following its path toward the western wall where eborate mosaics depicted Apollo's legendary achievements.

  "There," he whispered suddenly, pointing to where the sunlight now illuminated a particur mosaic panel showing Apollo defeating the monstrous Python. "Look at how the light hits the design."

  Marcus narrowed his eyes, studying the illuminated mosaic. Within the intricate pattern of colored tiles, the sunlight revealed a previously invisible design—lines of gold and silver tessera that formed a familiar geometric pattern surrounding a central star-like symbol.

  "That's it," Marcus confirmed. "Simir to what we found in Egypt."

  Elias nodded excitedly. "The metallic tiles only reflect at this specific angle of light. Any other time of day, they blend into the overall design."

  Their discovery coincided with the climax of the ceremony. The head priest raised a golden urel wreath toward the roof opening, directly into the shaft of sunlight, while initiating the final prayer. The assembled crowd joined in a rhythmic chant, their voices rising and falling in unison.

  In that moment, the most violent tremor yet shook the temple. Columns swayed dangerously, and decorative stonework crashed to the floor. The crowd erupted in panic, previous religious solemnity giving way to primal fear as people pushed toward the exits.

  "The mosaic!" Elias shouted over the chaos. "We need to get closer!"

  They pressed forward against the tide of fleeing worshippers, taking advantage of their unique condition to move through the crowd. The tremor continued far longer than previous ones, causing significant damage to the temple structure. A section of the ceiling colpsed near the entrance, blocking the main doorway and trapping many inside.

  As they reached the mosaic, a more localized disaster struck. One of the temple's massive columns, weakened by the prolonged shaking, began to topple directly toward a small group of children who had become separated from their parents in the chaos.

  "No!" Marcus reacted instinctively, lunging toward the children.

  "Marcus, wait—" Elias called out, but too te.

  Marcus reached the children just as the column fell. With a strength born of desperation, he shoved at the nearest child—a boy of perhaps six years—pushing him clear of the column's path.

  The impossible happened.

  The boy moved.

  The child tumbled forward, safely out of the column's path, as it crashed to the floor with a thunderous impact that shook the already unstable building. For a frozen moment, Marcus stared at his hands in disbelief, then at the child who was looking around in confusion, clearly sensing that something had pushed him but seeing no one there.

  "Marcus," Elias's voice was tight with shock. "You touched him. He felt you."

  Marcus backed away from the child, who had been quickly gathered up by an adult in the chaotic evacuation. "That's... not possible. We're observers, not physically here."

  "The manuscript warned about increased integration with each flow," Elias reminded him, his voice urgent. "We're becoming more substantial—first able to interact with objects, now apparently with people, if there's enough force behind the contact."

  Another violent tremor interrupted their revetion, bringing down more of the temple ceiling. Sunlight now streamed in through multiple openings, illuminating the dust and ash swirling through the air.

  "The symbol," Marcus refocused, pointing to the mosaic. "We need to activate it now."

  They knelt before the mosaic where the symbol gleamed in the direct sunlight. Unlike in Egypt, where they had stumbled upon activation by accident, they now understood they needed to consciously interact with it.

  "Let me see the manuscript," Elias said, and Marcus produced it from inside his jacket.

  Elias quickly leafed through the pages, finding the section he had previously transted about activation. "It says the symbol must be 'awakened by those who walk between times' through a specific sequence of contacts." He traced the diagram in the manuscript. "We need to touch these points in order, both of us together."

  Outside, a new sound rose above the chaos of the earthquake—a distant roar that grew steadily louder.

  "The main eruption has begun," Elias said, his voice steady despite the fear evident in his eyes. "We have minutes, not hours."

  Marcus nodded grimly. "Let's do this."

  Following Elias's guidance, they pced their hands on the mosaic, touching specific points of the symbol in the sequence described in the manuscript. The metallic tessera felt warm beneath their fingers, almost vibrating with an inner energy.

  As they completed the sequence, the mosaic began to glow with an internal light that had nothing to do with the sun. The pattern seemed to rise from the ft surface, becoming three-dimensional as the lines rearranged themselves into a more complex configuration.

  "It's working," Elias breathed.

  The temple shook more violently as the roar from the mountain grew deafening. Through the damaged roof, they could see a massive column of ash and fire rising from Vesuvius, blotting out the sun and plunging the city into premature darkness. Lightning fshed within the ash cloud, creating a nightmarish dispy of nature's fury.

  "We need to hurry," Marcus urged as pieces of the temple continued to fall around them.

  A rger section of ceiling colpsed nearby, showering them with debris. Elias cried out as a heavy fragment struck his leg, the impact sending him sprawling across the floor away from the symbol.

  "Elias!" Marcus abandoned the symbol to reach his side.

  Elias struggled to sit up, his face contorted in pain. "My leg—I think it's broken." He attempted to stand but fell back with a gasp of agony. "You have to complete the sequence."

  "Not without you," Marcus said firmly, already moving to help him. "We go together or not at all."

  Before Elias could protest, Marcus had lifted him carefully, supporting his weight as they returned to the glowing symbol. Outside, the sound of destruction intensified—buildings colpsing, people screaming, and the relentless roar of the volcano unleashing its full fury.

  "The final sequence," Elias directed through gritted teeth, pointing to the remaining contact points.

  As they began the activation sequence, another violent tremor—stronger than any before—rocked the temple. The floor beneath them heaved upward, then settled with a sickening crack. The beautiful mosaic containing the symbol split down the middle, its intricate pattern broken and disjointed as the floor partially colpsed.

  "No!" Elias cried out, watching in dismay as the symbol they'd finally found was torn apart before they could activate it.

  Marcus steadied him as they scrambled back from the widening fissure. "Is it lost?"

  Elias stared at the damaged mosaic, his mind racing. "Not necessarily. The symbol in Egypt was three-dimensional—this surface representation might be incomplete." He pointed to the dark space visible through the broken floor. "There might be a chamber beneath the temple with the complete symbol."

  Outside, the roar of the volcano intensified as the full eruption began. Through the damaged roof, they could see a massive column of ash and fire rising from Vesuvius, blotting out the sun and plunging the city into premature darkness. Lightning fshed within the ash cloud, creating a nightmarish dispy of nature's fury.

  "We need to find another way," Marcus said, scanning the rapidly emptying temple. Most worshippers had fled, though some y injured or trapped by fallen debris. "If there's a chamber below, there must be access somewhere."

  Another section of ceiling colpsed nearby, narrowly missing them. The temple was becoming increasingly unstable as the tremors continued without pause.

  "The priests would need regur access for maintenance," Elias reasoned, trying to think through their options despite the chaos. "There should be a service entrance, probably near the altar."

  As they moved toward the altar area, a young child—separated from his family in the panic—stumbled directly into their path, disoriented and crying. Above him, a rge section of decorative stonework began to break free from the wall.

  Marcus reacted instinctively, lunging forward to push the child out of danger. To both their shock, his hands made solid contact with the boy's shoulders, shoving him clear just as the stonework crashed to the floor.

  The child tumbled forward, safely out of harm's way, then looked around in confusion—clearly sensing that something had pushed him but seeing no one there. An adult quickly scooped him up and rushed toward the exit, leaving Marcus staring at his hands in disbelief.

  "Marcus," Elias's voice was tight with shock. "You touched him. He felt you."

  "That's... not possible. We're observers, not physically here."

  "The manuscript warned about increased integration with each flow," Elias reminded him, his voice urgent. "We're becoming more substantial—first able to interact with objects, now apparently with people, if there's enough force behind the contact."

  This revetion was interrupted by the colpse of another section of the temple roof, forcing them to dash toward the altar area. Behind an ornate screen, they discovered what they were looking for—a narrow staircase descending beneath the temple floor.

  "This must lead to maintenance chambers," Elias said, peering into the darkness below.

  "Or give us access to the complete symbol," Marcus added, already moving toward the stairs. "Either way, it's our only option now."

  As they prepared to descend into the unknown depths beneath the temple, the mountain's roar seemed to reach a new crescendo. Pompeii's final hours had begun in earnest, and they were running out of time.