The chasm gaped before them, a wound in the earth older than the ruins above. The carvings glowed faintly now, pulsing in time with the distant, rhythmic tremors. Jonas clenched his fists, forcing his breath steady as the whisper echoed in his skull. You should not be here.
Daric scrambled backward, his boots slipping on the damp stone. "We need to go. Now."
Veyne kept her eyes on the creatures at the chamber's entrance. "They're still not following."
Jonas swallowed, his gaze flicking between the chasm and the unmoving figures. "Because they don't have to."
The air changed. The pressure around them grew dense, as if unseen hands pressed against their chests. Jonas felt his own heartbeat slow, dragged into the rhythm of whatever lurked below.
Then the first tendril rose.
It wasn't flesh, nor was it shadow. It was something in-between, shifting in and out of solidity. The black tendril curled up from the abyss like a finger beckoning them closer.
Jonas took an instinctive step back, but Veyne stood firm. "This place isn't just old," she whispered. "It's watching us."
Daric gripped her sleeve. "Then let's not give it a show."
Jonas turned, motioning toward the only other exit—a narrow tunnel opposite the entrance they had fled through. The carvings lined this passage as well, but their glow was dimmer.
"Go," he ordered.
They moved quickly, keeping their backs to the abyss. The tremors faded, but the feeling of being watched did not. The ruins were awake now.
The tunnel twisted and sloped downward. The further they went, the less the carvings appeared, until at last the walls were nothing but old stone and creeping roots. The scent of decay thickened.
Jonas paused. "We're getting close to the surface."
Daric shook his head. "No, this... this isn't the way out."
Veyne slowed, listening. "He's right. Something's ahead."
Jonas tightened his grip on his sword. The silence stretched. Then, a sound—wet, shuffling, growing nearer.
A corpse shambled into view, barely more than rags and bones, its movements sluggish. Then another. Then dozens.
"Shit," Jonas muttered. "Run or fight?"
Daric glanced behind them. "If we go back—"
A guttural growl echoed from the tunnel behind them. More were coming from both sides.
Veyne bared her teeth. "Fight, then run."
The first zombie lunged. Jonas met it with steel, his blade cleaving through rotting flesh. Veyne danced beside him, her daggers a blur. Daric fought sloppier but with raw desperation, hacking at anything that got close.
They were pushing forward. Then the ceiling shook. A section of stone collapsed just ahead, blocking the path.
Jonas' stomach dropped. "No—"
A clawed hand punched through the rubble. But it wasn't a zombie. It was something else.
Veyne's torch illuminated a twisted mass of sinew and bone, something that had once been human but had grown beyond death. The thing lifted its head, and Jonas saw too many eyes—all of them locked onto him.
Daric whispered, "That's no undead. That's something new."
The thing charged.
Jonas barely had time to react before the thing lunged. It moved with an unnatural grace, its sinewy form twisting mid-air as if unbound by bones. Jonas barely lifted his blade before it was on him.
The weight hit him like a warhammer, knocking the wind from his lungs. Clawed fingers raked against his chestplate, carving deep gouges into the metal. He rolled with the force, twisting just enough to drive his knee into the thing's abdomen.
It barely flinched.
Veyne was already moving. Her daggers flashed in the dim light, carving into the creature's back. A dark, ichor-like substance oozed from the wounds, but the thing didn't stop.
Daric yanked Jonas back just as the creature's elongated jaw snapped shut where his throat had been. They scrambled to their feet as the horde of undead behind the creature pressed forward, their moans melding with the thing's inhuman growl.
"We can't fight all of them!" Daric panted, his sword slick with rotted blood.
Jonas barely had time to respond before the tunnel shook again. The tremors were stronger this time, coming from below.
Then, the stone beneath their feet cracked.
The floor gave way.
Jonas felt weightlessness as he plummeted, the cold air rushing past his skin. He reached for anything, any handhold, any ledge, but the darkness swallowed him whole.
Then—impact.
The landing was brutal, but somehow, he survived. Pain lanced through his ribs, but nothing felt broken. He groaned, forcing himself up. The air was thick here—wrong. It reeked of decay and something... older.
A groan came from nearby. "Jonas?" Veyne's voice.
He turned, spotting her struggling to her feet a few yards away. Daric wasn't far, clutching his leg with a grimace.
"We're alive," Jonas muttered. "Barely."
Above them, the tunnel entrance was now a jagged wound of light in the ceiling. The undead hadn't followed—not yet. But the thing with too many eyes... it had.
A clicking sound echoed. Then another.
Shapes moved in the darkness. Not just one. Not just two.
Many.
Veyne sucked in a breath. "Jonas, tell me you have a plan."
He stared into the abyss, where figures slithered and watched.
"Yeah," he exhaled. "Run."
And then the creatures attacked.
The cavern was a maze, endless tunnels stretching in every direction. Jonas ran blindly, the sound of pursuit deafening behind them. The things didn't move like men. They crawled, they scuttled, their limbs bending at unnatural angles as they chased.
Daric cursed, limping as he ran. "There has to be a way out!"
Jonas didn't know if he believed that. The deeper they went, the more the air hummed. Magic lingered here, thick and ancient. It set his teeth on edge.
A sharp turn brought them to an opening—a chamber, larger than anything they'd seen yet. Stalagmites jutted from the ground like fangs. And at the center...
A doorway.
Not of wood, not of stone, but something else. It pulsed, as if alive. Symbols along its archway flickered in a sequence, too fast to read.
Veyne didn't hesitate. "That's our way out."
Jonas wasn't sure. Everything about the doorway screamed wrong. But the creatures were coming. He could hear them climbing the walls.
"We don't have a choice," Daric growled, already moving toward it.
Jonas followed. The doorway loomed before them, the air vibrating as they stepped closer. Then, as if sensing them, the symbols changed.
The hum became a roar.
Then the world vanished.