Back in the Eternal Campground, I lay out my gathered relics: the brooch, the amulet, scrolls from the bunker, shards of stained glass, and the iron key now fulfilled of its purpose. All these pieces coalesce into a truth I can finally articulate: I was—and am—a knight sworn to guard the Keepers who tended lanterns at the Threshold, holding back an ancient darkness. The silence, the mist, and these fragmented locations are tests or echoes of a duty I must uphold once again.
Lynn watches me, brow knit in quiet determination. Though her voice is stilled, I can read the encouragement in her posture. I feel as if I'm on the cusp of something greater—uncovering the place where these Keepers once held their vigil, where I can perhaps rekindle what was lost. The deck has guided me faithfully, and I trust it will do so now, as I reach again for the leather box.
The cards stir under my fingertips. I shuffle, each whisper of cardboard on cardboard like distant footfalls in a grand hall. Three cards lift free:
Location: Demon-Fused Metro Station
A subterranean hub where tunnels run deep and twisted. Organic sinews meld with cracked tiles, posters show snarling faces, and the distant rumble of tracks hums underfoot. This place seethes with old corruption. If the Threshold once lay beyond mortal reach, perhaps these tunnels lead closer to it.
Event: Resonant Choir
Invisible voices sing harmonies that ease wounds for both friend and foe. Allies heal faster, but so do enemies—and fallen foes may not stay down for long if the melody lingers. I must end conflicts swiftly.
Enemy: Bone-Slinger Gargoyle
A statue come alive, fashioned of old bones and stone shards. It hurls sharp fragments from a distance, relentless and deadly. An embodiment of old cruelty, a sentinel that might bar the path to the Keepers' domain.
I inhale deeply, fingers tightening around my axe's handle. Lynn moves closer, eyes fixed on the cards. She nods once. We both know this could be a defining moment. The Demon-Fused Metro Station sounds like a gateway deeper into the labyrinth's heart. The Resonant Choir's haunting lullaby could help us survive—but also bolster the enemy. And that Gargoyle… I must be clever and unyielding.
We stand at the mist's edge. I close my eyes, picturing the Threshold I must find. Then I push forward, and the Eternal Campground's warmth falls away.
We emerge onto a cracked platform lit by sputtering neon tubes. Flesh and stone blend unnaturally: benches fused with chitin, old turnstiles riddled with veins. Posters on the walls depict twisted landscapes, their ink runny and alive. A distant drip echoes through the tunnels. The air smells sour, like old blood and mildew.
As I take a step, a gentle, wordless humming begins. The Resonant Choir. Its harmonies come from nowhere and everywhere at once. The sound soothes my aching muscles, but also sets my heart racing—if enemies are near, they too will find renewed strength in this song.
We move along the platform, careful not to brush against pulsating growths. Lynn points at a wide archway where old tracks disappear into darkness. We follow, boots crunching on debris. The choir's melody intensifies, resonating in my chest cavity, making me hyper-aware of every breath.
A scrape of stone on stone halts me. I raise my axe, scanning the gloom. Atop a collapsed pillar stands the Bone-Slinger Gargoyle. At first glance, it looks like just another monstrous decoration—skull fragments forming its visage, rib bones fused into wings. But then it moves, arm drawing back to hurl a sharpened shard of bone.
I yank Lynn behind a half-melted ticket machine. The bone shard whistles past and shatters against the platform. The Gargoyle emits no roar, just a grinding rasp of stone and bone. I must close the distance, but how? The choir's healing will prolong any fight. If I rush blindly, I'll be struck down by its barrage.
I test the choir's influence: a small scratch on my forearm from jagged metal closes almost instantly. Good. I can endure hits that would normally weaken me—so can the Gargoyle. I must strike decisively, aiming to destroy its vantage point or cripple its frame so it can't reform under the choir's influence.
Lynn taps my shoulder and points to a twisted support beam overhead. If I can knock it loose, I might collapse part of the station's ceiling, forcing the Gargoyle down from its perch. I nod, searching for something to leverage. A half-broken post could serve as a pry bar. I wedge my axe handle under the post and heave. It creaks loudly. The Gargoyle cocks its head, unleashing another barrage of bone shards. One grazes my shoulder, but the choir's lullaby knits the wound before it can bleed.
With a final shove, the beam snaps. Rubble cascades down. The Gargoyle tries to leap away, but a chunk of concrete slams into its lower body, pinning it. It hisses in silent fury, flinging shards wildly. Lynn ducks low, darting closer. While it's trapped, I rush in, swinging my axe to sever the bones forming its arm. The blow crushes a cluster of vertebrae. The Gargoyle tries to regenerate, the choir's healing song swirling in the air, but I strike again, shattering its skull-like head.
The creature collapses into a mound of broken shards. The choir hums on, but without a functional form, the Gargoyle cannot revive itself. I stand over the remains, breathing hard. Lynn steps beside me, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. We've done it—ended a formidable foe in this corrupted place.
We press on, following faint signs: old runes carved into the station's deeper walls. Down a side tunnel, behind a collapsed stairwell, I spot flickering lights—lanterns like those described in the Keepers' records. They're dark now, their glass cracked, but their presence is unmistakable. This station might connect to a deeper network of corridors leading to the Threshold itself.
At the far end of the tunnel, I find a broken plaque bearing familiar runes. Under the Lantern of Stolen Days (which appears again, bobbing along as if guiding us), a secret niche opens. Inside is a fragment of a stone tablet. Etched words confirm what I suspected: "When the Keepers stand again at the Threshold, and a Knight stands guard, silence shall break and truth be restored."
My chest tightens. Silence shall break. That means Lynn can speak, the mysteries can be voiced, and the lost order can be whole again—if I manage to find or restore these Keepers and light their lanterns.
We return to the Eternal Campground, stepping back through the mist. The fire crackles softly, a welcome sound. I lay out the stone tablet fragment with my other relics. Each piece fits into my tapestry of understanding. Lynn kneels beside me, smiling gently. We have survived the Demon-Fused Metro Station, overcome the Bone-Slinger Gargoyle, and found another lead toward the Threshold.
The silence persists, but now I know its end is possible. I close my eyes, imagining a chamber where lanterns glow softly, where Keepers once held vigil. I see myself standing guard, oath fulfilled, and the mist receding from our words.
I rest, heart full of renewed purpose. Soon, I will find that place. Soon, I will hear Lynn's voice and learn all that we've forgotten.