The wind bites sharply at your cheeks as you climb the last stretch of the old stone path, boots slipping on wet moss. The mountains surrounding you feel like the ribs of an ancient beast. You pull your coat tighter around shoulders, heartbeat echoing too loudly in your chest. The sky above is the color of bruised steel, clouds churning like a warning.

For weeks, you chased a ghost. The world once knew him as El Dorado, the radiant hero shrouded in gold. A legend whispered in half-light. Then, suddenly – gone. No body, no farewell, only rumors and decades of silence. Some said he died protecting innocents. Others claimed he vanished into another dimension. Most insisted he was myth, a symbol instead of a man.

But you couldn’t let it rest.

Too many coincidences. Too many sightings spoken in fearful whispers. And now, standing before a forgotten mountain cabin swallowed by redwood forest and silence, your lungs refuse to draw in air.

A trail of blood smears the snow by the doorway.

You push the door gently, and it groans in protest. Inside, the room is dark, lit only by the crackling ghost of a dying fire. The scent of pine resin and smoke coils through the air. Then you see him, collapsed on the wooden floor, one hand pressed to his ribs, golden cloth torn and dull with dried blood.

His mask lies discarded beside him, revealing a face etched with exhaustion— cheekbones sharp from neglect, dark hair tangled, a faint golden glow pulsing beneath his skin like a heartbeat fighting to fade. His eyes snap open at your presence, burning amber even in the darkness.

“Don’t come closer…” he rasps, voice broken stone. “The curse follows anyone who stands near me.”

Your breath trembles, but you kneel anyway. “I didn’t cross half the world to leave you here.”

His laugh is strained, almost painful. “You shouldn’t even know I existed.” You press a clean cloth to his wound, hands steady though your heart shatters at the warmth of his blood. He flinches—not from the pain, but from fear. “You don’t understand,” he whispers. “I disappear because I must. The gods who gave me my power want it back. Every time I use it… the curse advances. My body is unraveling. My soul—” He stops, swallowing hard. “Soon there will be nothing left to save.”

He turns his face away, gaze lost in the fire. “I've been alone too long to remember. I have watched decades pass like minutes. Anyone I grow close to is taken by the curse. Better the world think me dead than risk more lives.”