The oppressive darkness of the Abyss pressed against them like a living thing, each step deeper making it harder to discern up from down, time from stillness. It was a miracle how they were still respirating—there was no ocean or atmosphere in this forsaken place. Theros held up a hand, his flames dimmed to a whisper of golden light.
"No more grand entrances," he muttered, his usual bravado subdued. "This place isn't about to roll out a welcome mat."
The crew nodded silently; their weapons sheathed but ready. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional ripple of movement in the liquid-like ground beneath their feet. Every sound, every breath, seemed amplified, distorted, as if the Abyss mocked their very presence.
Moving in calculated paces, they spread out. The crew's sensor types began their work: some closed their eyes to sense the surroundings, their auras flaring faintly, while others used unique techniques. A dragonkin specialist merged with the darkness and vanished, his presence blending seamlessly with the shadows.
Cualen grinned faintly, his sharp features lit by a faint shimmer as he split into thousands of shadowy clones. They melted into the surroundings, indistinguishable from the Abyss itself. Each clone shared a fragment of his consciousness, scouring the environment for signs of danger or purpose.
A lithe figure in the group raised her hand, and an invisible veil blanketed the area. Shik, the group's shrouding specialist, smirked as her work settled into place. "This should keep anything from perceiving our location," she said confidently.
"Good work, Shik," Theros replied with a nod. "The rest of you, spread out. Report anything suspicious. Kassp, you're on link duty—keep the network flowing."
The merfolk telepath floated a few feet off the ground, his gills flaring faintly as his psychic link connected to the group. "Got it, boss," he replied, his tone casual as his eyes glowed faintly.
Vaelora moved ahead, her silver blade glinting faintly in the ambient gloom. "Something feels wrong," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
she felt someone hold her battle armour
"I'm scared" rythen who has been silent since arriving couldn't help but shake, his voice trembling.
"Nonsense, you are with me. nothing will happen"
Theros smirked, though the expression didn't reach his eyes. "Good. I'd be worried if there wasn't an obvious ploy."
As they advanced, the landscape grew stranger. Massive spires jutted out at impossible angles; their surfaces inscribed with glowing runes that pulsed faintly. In the distance, great fissures split the ground, spilling tendrils of shadow that writhed like living creatures.
Theros glanced at Cualen, who seemed more curious than cautious as his clones prowled. This was his first time in the Abyss; few had made it this far.
"Find anything?" Theros asked, his tone clipped.
"Nothing yet," Cualen replied, his eyes glimmering faintly. "Clones are still exploring."
Calista crouched near a fissure, her sharp claws delicately tracing its edge. "This isn't natural," she murmured, her voice laced with unease. "It's like the Abyss is alive, bleeding these… things into the world."
Nysa shifted into her selkie form, her sleek fur gleaming faintly as her keen eyes scanned the horizon. "Those aren't just shadows," she said softly.
Kassp suddenly straightened, his glowing eyes wide. "Reports coming in," he said, projecting the information to the group through their mental link.
Theros's antlers shimmered faintly as he received the images—a distorted collage of observations from his crew. His eyes narrowed. "Interesting," he muttered.
Merrik furrowed his brow, his cobalt scales dimming to blend into the gloom. "What could they be watching? The kingdom's miles away."
Theros knelt, his golden eyes narrowing as he touched the ground. "Not the kingdom. They're looking outward. Across the sea. Across the world." He glanced at Vaelora. "They're gathering information."
Vaelora's expression hardened. "If these are the Shadowborne, then they're not just a threat to us. They're mapping everything, looking for weaknesses, tracking movements."
"Why?" Durak growled, hefting his axe despite their stealth. "What are they planning?"
Theros straightened, his flames flickering faintly. "Not our job to figure that out here. Our job's to bring back proof." He hesitated, his voice dropping. "But it's not just the kingdom they're interested in. They're looking for something bigger." 'My brother', he thought grimly.
As if in answer, the shadows shifted around them. Tendrils coiled and uncoiled, forming vague shapes that dissolved before fully taking form. Whispers drifted through the air, faint and disjointed:
"Dreamers awake... the Balance tilts... the Seals falter..." Each word hung heavy, as if tugging at the edges of forgotten knowledge, their meanings just out of reach.
Eryk flinched, his usual swagger replaced by unease. "Anyone else hear that? Or is it just me losing my mind?"
"You're not imagining it," Nysa replied, her voice tense. "They're speaking. But not to us. It's like..."
"It's coordinates," Theros interrupted, his tone sharp. His sharp ears picked out fragments of meaning, each word tugging at the edges of his memory, stirring something primal and uneasy. "Locations."
Merrik's trident crackled faintly. "What kind of locations?"
"The kind we don't want them visiting," Theros muttered. "We've got to move. This place isn't just a tomb—it's a staging ground."
Before they could proceed, Cualen's eyes flickered. "News!" he called out, signaling to Kassp.
The crew's eyes glazed over as Kassp projected the vision:
Vast, intricate structures loomed in the distance, resembling both ruins and living things. Strange glyphs flickered across their surfaces. Shadowy figures moved within, manipulating floating orbs of light that pulsed rhythmically, projecting maps and diagrams too intricate to decipher.
Vaelora's voice was grim. "They're not just scouts. They're architects. Strategists."
Theros forced a grin, though his hands trembled faintly. "Guess we've got enough to report, huh?" His gaze lingered on the distant structures, the weight of their implications settling heavily in his chest.