Arlan was never going to recover from this.
Ever.
The guild hall incident had already spread farther than wildfire.
By the time they left the guild, adventurers were already whispering about him. A skeletal rat? Weird, but fine. A giant skeletal chicken? Concerning. But a randomly morphing undead fish?
Now everyone thought Arlan was some kind of deranged necromancer specializing in haunted farm animals.
And that was a problem.
Because if the wrong people started paying attention, it wouldn't take long before his secret came out.
So, naturally—Arlan did what any reasonable person would do in this situation.
He locked himself in his attic for hours and stared at Bones.
The Weary Traveler Inn – Arlan's Attic Room
Bones stared back.
Click. Click.
Arlan sighed, sitting on the mattress with his arms crossed. "You are the biggest problem in my life right now."
Bones did not deny it.
Arlan groaned. "Okay. Let's go over this again. You evolved."
Bones clicked.
"You can shift forms now."
Click.
"And you can't control it."
Silence.
Arlan's stomach dropped. "Wait. You can't control it… right?"
Bones tilted his head. Then, in slow motion, he shifted into a skeletal squirrel.
Then a fish.
Then—a chicken.
Then, just when Arlan thought it was over—
A tiny skeletal horse.
Arlan stared.
Bones stared back.
Arlan opened his mouth. Then closed it.
Then opened it again.
"Why?"
Bones had no answer.
Instead, he morphed back into a rat, clicked his teeth cheerfully, and scurried up Arlan's arm.
Arlan buried his face in his hands.
A Completely Reasonable and Normal Experiment
"Okay," Arlan muttered. "Maybe I can fix this."
Bones perked up.
"I just need to figure out if this… form thing is magic-based or instinct-based."
Bones tilted his skull, interested.
Arlan pointed dramatically. "Bones, turn into a fish."
Bones did not.
Arlan frowned. "Okay. Try turning into a chicken."
Still nothing.
Arlan squinted. "Okay, so you only transform at random."
Bones nodded.
Arlan rubbed his temples. "I hate this."
Click. Click.
Arlan exhaled slowly. "Fine. Let's try something else."
He placed Bones on the wooden floor and backed up. "Okay, I'm gonna throw something at you—don't freak out."
Bones immediately freaked out.
Arlan threw a small cloth at him.
Bones **squeaked—**and immediately exploded into a skeletal goose.
Arlan screamed.
Bones honked.
Mira chose the absolute worst time to knock on Arlan's door.
Because the moment she did—Bones turned back into a rat and scurried under the bed, and Arlan was still screaming.
Mira opened the door, unimpressed.
Arlan, breathing heavily, stared at her. "Oh. Uh. Hi."
Mira folded her arms. "What are you doing."
Arlan paused. "...Studying."
She glanced around. "Why does it sound like you're being murdered?"
"No reason."
Mira narrowed her eyes. "Uh-huh."
Silence.
Then—
Bones snuck out from under the bed.
Mira narrowed her eyes even more.
Arlan stepped in front of him instantly. "Anyway! Did you need something?"
Mira sighed, letting it go—for now. "We're meeting at the guild. Guildmaster wants to speak with us."
Arlan froze. "What? Why?"
Mira crossed her arms. "I was hoping you could tell me."
Arlan's stomach dropped.
Oh. Oh no.
This was about the crypt.
Duskhaven Guild Hall – Trouble is Brewing
When Arlan and Mira arrived, the others were already there.
Leila looked bored. Tomas was leaning back in his chair, flipping a knife between his fingers. Beren sat with his arms crossed, listening as Guildmaster Alric paced behind the counter.
Alric was a gruff, gray-haired man, built like a retired warrior who still punched things when annoyed.
He looked annoyed now.
"—can't ignore this," he was saying, rubbing his forehead. "Something is wrong with that crypt."
Arlan and Mira took their seats as the conversation continued.
Beren leaned forward. "You're saying something else has happened?"
Alric nodded grimly. "Another team went in yesterday. They saw nothing strange in there?"
Arlan's blood ran cold.
"What do you mean?" Tomas asked.
Alric exhaled. "It's empty."
Silence.
Leila frowned. "...I'm sorry, what?"
"The Ghoul you uncovered?" Alric said. "It's gone. Or at least, the body is."
Mira's grip on her staff tightened. "That doesn't make sense. That ghoul was dead. It shouldn't have—" She stopped.
Alric met her gaze. "Exactly."
Arlan forced himself to speak. "So… what does that mean for us?"
Alric hesitated. "You're the only team to encounter anything dangerous in that crypt. And now? The moment we send someone else… it's gone. No signs of battle. No magic residue. Just missing."
Arlan's stomach felt sick.
He knew what that meant.
The crypt's darkness was still alive.
It wasn't finished with them yet.
And worst of all?
It was waiting.