Alright, this is the shortest prologue I've EVER written. I usually don't start my stories like this so bear with me if it's confusing or weird. I know, I probably shouldn't be starting ANOTHER fic, but I had this written out and it was just begging to be posted. I can't say how often I will update this, especially once school and soccer begin again, but I will do my best. Also, this is canon until after "Where Lies the Engulfer" after that... probably going to be AUish since I have feeling this isn't how the series is going to end. Anyway, tell me what you think and if I should keep going.

I do not own or claim to own The Secret Saturdays or any of its characters. Those rights belong to Jay Stevens and CN.

Prologue

Sweat poured down his face in small rivulets, the salty liquid stinging his eyes and forcing him to blink rapidly. His clothes were soaked and he considered discarding his shirt at least since it was little more than dirty rags now. He quickly dismissed the idea however. He didn’t dare leave any sign of his passage. Everyone’s survival depended on how well he could keep himself hidden.

He pressed himself into a dusty groove in the temple’s walls as footsteps echoed down the decrepit hallway. It wasn’t long before a pair of guards marched past his hiding place. Leather armor drooped off of the decaying figures; the boy fought the urge to empty his stomach as the stench of rotting flesh and innards wafted off the soldiers. The bloodthirsty gazes and wicked swords at their hips were enough motivation to keep quiet though.

Waiting until the click of skeletal feet on stone disappeared, the boy pulled away from the wall, dusted the cobwebs off his body, and silently moved down the hallway. He was getting closer. The humid-like thickness he had begun to associate with dark magic hung in the air like a miasma. The prickle at the base of his skull worsened and he clung to the wall like a lifeline until the attack ended and he was able to regain control of his powers.

The floor sloped steadily downward and into another open chamber. There were more scorpion-like cryptids, but a quick wave of his hand and jolt of power got rid of any aggressive or hostile tendencies within the creatures. That was one good thing about this place– his powers had gotten a significant boost. Usually, this would have caused some sort of excitement in the boy, but these weren’t normal circumstances.

The next chamber was empty and after a few more close calls with the undead guards, he had made it to the bottom of the structure. Giving up any pretense of secrecy, the boy went into an all-out sprint. It didn’t matter if he was caught anymore. He was running out of time and his head was threatening to split open.

His worn sneakers skidded across the uneven stone as he came to a sudden stop, the floor dropping away into an endless chasm. If he looked hard enough he could see the flicker of flames and moving shadows. His breath hitched and he was driven to his knees, hands holding his head in pain. He could feel his eyes burn as they glowed, brighter than ever now that he was at the center of one of the biggest mystical hotspots in the world.

“It is the biggest now that all the gods have left this world, fleeing like rats from a sinking ship. Even they know that your people’s pathetic attempt to seal me would not hold. It was only a matter of time.” He tried ignored the booming voice in his head that had become far too familiar this last week. “This Sun is dying and the new one will take its place. Cryptids will rule this world while you sniveling insects are the ones forced to hide! The time has come and you are too late! Your usefulness has come to an end. Goodbye, Zak Saturday.” The boy stood at the opening of the chasm and watched as the fires below roared upward.

Kur had been released and it was all his fault.