The beast lunged. Stone exploded beneath its weight as it slammed forward like a sentient avalanche. Ren dove aside—just barely—his shoulder crunching hard against the floor.
There was no time to breathe.
A claw tore through the air, close enough for its pressure alone to rattle his skull. The beast's maw gaped open—unhinged, dripping black blood, its tongue twitching like a dying serpent. Ren ducked again, the attack grazing his shoulder as he rolled. He scrambled to his feet. His ribs screamed in protest. His left arm hung useless at his side, numb from shoulder to fingertips. As the beast charged again, Ren pivoted at the last second, using its sheer mass against it.
The wolf slammed into the wall and howled. The sound shook the chamber like thunder. Cracks spiderwebbed across the ceiling, causing stone dust to rain down.
At the stairs, Eva ran until her legs threatened to give out.
With every step upward, the thunder below grew fainter—until it didn't. Until it surged again.
Roars and crashes, something tearing apart the world she'd left behind. She stumbled into the wall as a tremor rippled through the stone. Dust fell from above. Her heartbeat outpaced her thoughts. Her knees gave out under the quake.
"I left him," She whispered into her hands. "I left him with that thing…But he told me to?"
She pushed herself up and reached the top of the steps, retracing the path they'd taken, stumbling back into the dreamlike space above. It was unchanged—vast and ethereal.
The quiet waterfall.
The pale moon.
"I just need something," She whispered. "A shard…A bone…Anything sharp."
She ran along the main path that curved around the underground basin, narrowing beneath a jagged arch entwined with thick vines just beyond the waterfall. Past the arch, air grew colder.
Eva pressed a hand to the wet stone, feeling something ancient beneath her fingertips.
She stepped inside, and the room opened wide. Its walls were slick with a dark, almost black.
Blood.
Thick, dried stains streaked the stone in chaotic patterns. Crimson dripped from high ledges, pooling in the uneven floor. The smell struck her all at once—iron and rot, clinging to the air.
And there were carvings.
Dozens of figures etched into the stone walls, all kneeling in unnatural devotion. Their bodies were hunched and weak, hands raised not in prayer—but in offering. Their faces were gone, erased by time or violently scratched away, and arms stretched toward the center of the room.
Toward her.
Above them, carved high into the stone, stood a woman.
Her hands were outstretched—not in welcome, but in claim.
Streaks of dried blood ran from her etched fingers, winding down toward the kneeling figures like veins. Eva froze. She didn't need to be told who it was. Beneath the woman's outstretched hands was the altar. A stone slab slick with dried blood, blackened and cracked. Nearby, rusted remains of sacrificial tools laid scattered—knives, chains, hooks, all reduced to decay.
And at the center of the altar—
A sword.
Ordinary in shape. Broad-bladed. Its edge dulled by age but unbroken. The leather around its hilt had nearly unraveled, darkened and soaked from decades of use. Dried blood caked its fuller, as though someone had once tried—and failed—to clean it. It looked untouched for years.
Eva stepped forward, and reached for it, arms trembling as she tried to lift it.
It didn't move. A strangled sound left her throat.
She grabbed it with both hands, braced her feet, and pulled even harder.
"Come on…"
The blade resisted, as if it refused to leave.
With one final heave, Eva wrenched the sword free.
It was heavier than anything she'd ever held before. She cradled it awkwardly, the blade scraping against the floor as she turned. Blood flaked from its surface with each step.
Clutching it to her chest, she ran as fast as she could.
Below, Ren struggled. His body was failing. Everything burned. Blood blurred his vision.
The wolf kept its rampage, as it lowered its head and charged.
Ren dove—too slow.
Its teeth snapped shut around his left arm.
Then—
The beast swung him. His body lifted from the ground like a ragdoll. His feet scraped along the wall midair as the wolf jerked its head around violently, side to side. Flesh tore. Bone screamed.
And then—
RIP
Ren flew, slamming into the stone. Blood gushed from the ruined socket where his arm had been. The floor beneath him was slick and warm. His chest rose in short, shallow gasps.
He couldn't move.
Somewhere nearby, claws dragged across stone. Heavy footsteps. Panting. A deep, deliberate tremor that passed through the floor. The beast approached at a measured pace.
It was savoring it.
Ren tried to roll over, to face it, but his strength failed him. His hand slipped uselessly in his own blood. The wolf stopped. Its breath washed over his back. It leaned in, massive head looming above him, jaws parting. Saliva dripped in thick crimson strands. This was it.
And then—
CLANG
Metal struck stone.
Eva burst into view, no sword in her hands—only a jagged shard of stone torn from the fallen chamber roof. Its raw edge sliced into her palm as she ran. Straight for the beast, and up its tail.
The wolf whirled, too slow to react as Eva bounded up its spine. Each step she took nearly threw her as the monster twisted beneath her. Then she leapt.
The shard plunged into the wolf's eye.
A shriek ripped through the chamber—inhuman, massive, agonized.
The beast bucked around. Eva was thrown from its head, crashing hard into the stone.
Ren blinked blood from his eyes. Through the haze, he saw her—on the ground, arm trembling as she pointed. To the sword. The blade fell near the stairs, abandoned on the stone floor.
Ren turned toward it.
The wolf thrashed around blindly, clawing at its ruined eye, as it slammed into the walls.
Ren reached out. His fingers scraped stone. He pulled. Dragged himself forward.
One movement at a time.