Thuta didn't knock.
He stumbled into U Sein Myint's office just after dusk, clothes damp with sweat and dirt, eyes bloodshot from the trek, and the sigil on his palm faintly glowing through the grime. The old man looked up from his desk, where candles flickered over open scrolls and manuscripts.
"I see you're still alive," U Sein Myint said without lifting his teacup. "That's mildly surprising."
Thuta flopped into the chair. "You're going to want to brew something stronger."
The professor gave him a sideways glance. "So. Mount Popa?"
"Worse," Thuta replied, reaching into his satchel and pulling out the cracked crimson scroll. "I opened something. Again."
U Sein Myint set down his tea with a sigh, like a man who'd seen this coming from a mile away. "You were supposed to *observe*, not *activate ancient death magic*."
"I tripped," Thuta said. "On destiny. And some vines."
The professor rolled his eyes and unfolded the scroll. His brow furrowed as he skimmed the symbols, fingers pausing on an inked spiral similar to the one now burned into Thuta's palm.
"This," he said, tapping it, "is the second seal."
Thuta blinked. "The second?"
"The Crimson Seal," Sein Myint said gravely. "A deeper lock, not just a ward. It was never meant to be broken. Let alone by a sleep-deprived orphan with goat hair on his hoodie."
Thuta looked at his sleeve, then rubbed it against the chair. "That goat was hostile."
Sein Myint ignored him. "These seals weren't just put in place to trap things. They were warnings. Anchors. If they break, the remnants of the Zawgyi — their knowledge, their power, their… consequences — begin to reassert themselves."
"Consequences?" Thuta asked.
"You've seen dreams?" the professor said. "Visions?"
Thuta nodded slowly. "Smoke. Ash. Figures in red. And a man. Shadowed. Hat, wide brim. Staring."
Sein Myint froze.
"You've seen him?" he asked.
"I didn't get his name," Thuta said. "But he seems really into me."
The professor stood and began rifling through a locked drawer. "There are stories — barely recorded — of a Watcher. A man with no name who appears whenever a seal is broken. Some say he's a hunter. Others say he's a keeper. No one knows which side he's on."
Thuta rubbed his temples. "Fantastic. A supernatural stalker."
Sein Myint pulled out a yellowed parchment and spread it on the table. It showed a crude map with glyphs dotting several mountain ranges. "Mount Popa. Mount Victoria. Sagaing. Old alchemy vaults. Some are empty. Some, like the one you found, are... not."
"And what exactly am I supposed to do?" Thuta asked. "Because every time I get near one of these 'vaults,' something explodes or whispers cryptic threats."
The professor looked at him carefully. "There's something ancient inside you now. Whether by choice or accident, you're bound to the sigil. It responds to you. You opened one seal. You might be the only one who can survive opening the rest."
Thuta leaned back, groaning. "So what you're saying is... I'm the key."
"You're the fuse," Sein Myint said quietly. "And someone out there might be holding the match."
They both sat in silence, the candlelight flickering.
After a while, Thuta said, "You know I didn't ask for this, right?"
"Power never waits for permission," the professor replied.
---
Later that night, Thuta left the university and wandered toward the riverbank, hoping the fresh air would quiet his thoughts. He watched the dark water glint under the half-moon.
Far across the street, a man leaned against a telephone pole — face obscured by shadow, broad hat tilted downward. He didn't move. Didn't speak.
Thuta froze.
The man tilted his head — just slightly.
Then, a passing truck broke the line of sight.
When it was gone, so was the man.
Thuta's sigil pulsed once.
Hard.
---