The deeper we go, the colder the air becomes. Thick, pressing, unnatural. Not the kind of chill that comes from damp stone or underground air—this is something older.
The firelight flickers against the walls, casting twisting shadows that seem to move on their own. The weight in my chest grows heavier. The bond hums—steady, insistent—guiding us forward. The bond knows where we’re going. I’m not sure I want to.
We hear something else.
A deep, distant rumble. Not footsteps. Not something scraping against the earth. Something shifting. Something waking.
Lyra stiffens beside me. “Tell me that was thunder.”
Jarek exhales, his fingers tightening around his sword. “We’re underground. That’s not thunder.”
Then comes the dragging. Slow at first, like the weight of something immense pulling itself through the tunnels. The sound is wet and heavy, layered with an unnatural grinding—stone against stone, flesh against earth.
A deep clicking noise. Reverberating through the passage.
Valen turns his head sharply, his brow furrowing. “That’s coming from behind us.”
Rian exhales, adjusting his grip on his sword. “How far back?”
The tunnel trembles. It starts as a vibration, rippling through the packed earth. Dust drifts from the ceiling. The firelight flickers violently, as if something unseen is breathing throughthe passage.
And then, from the darkness behind us, a sound like churning stone and splitting bone. Something massive moves. The tunnel is no longer empty.
A shape fills the dark—writhing, shifting, unfurling. Its body is vast, too large for the passage, yet it moves with horrifying ease.
The earth doesn’t collapse around it, as if the tunnels have always belonged to it. As if it was born here.
Teeth. Rows and rows of jagged, uneven teeth, shifting as the creature pulls itself forward. The firelight catches glimpses of a glistening, ridged body, its surface dark. Almost like stone, but alive.
It clicks its jaws, a low, guttural sound that rumbles through the tunnels.
Lyra steps back sharply. “No. Nope. Absolutely not.”
Garrick mutters under his breath, his sword raised, his posture rigid. “Like I said, another day in paradise.”
It shifts its gaping maw, testing the air. I don’t think it sees us. But it senses us. Vibration. Movement.
The tunnel shakes violently as the creature moves, its massive body grinding against the earth, filling the entire passageway with its size. The sound is deafening—stone splitting, earth shifting, the unnatural churning of something that has been asleep for a very long time.
Thane acts first, releasing my hand as he thrusts out his palm, fire flaring to life. Jarek and Garrick follow, flames roaring forward—twisting arcs of heat slamming into the creature’s skin.
The passage erupts in flickering light, casting monstrous shadows along the walls.
For a moment, it seems to work. The beast shudders, recoiling slightly, its teeth snapping in irritation. Smoke curls around its body where the fire lands.
Then it surges forward again.
Jarek snarls, throwing another blast of fire, this time aiming for its mouth. The flames slam into the cavernous maw, the firelight reflecting off row upon row of jagged, spiraling teeth.
The creature recoils again, screeching, its voice a high-pitched, rattling wail that reverberates through the tunnel.
Garrick thrusts both hands forward. A column of flame races down the passage. It collides with the beast’s hide, warping the air with heat.
The creature twists violently, body slamming against the walls. Chunks of dirt and loose stone rain from above.
For a breath, I think we have it. But then it plows forward—through fire, through heat. It shrieks, blistering, its skin flaking like charred stone.
Without hesitating, Thane throws another blast straight at its open maw. The fire rushes forward and vanishes down its throat.
