Dawn brought no warmth to the Flesh Cradle.
Just the same grey twilight. The same weight on the lungs. The same feeling of walking through someone else's nightmare.
The tide had receded, exposing the ruins again.
Time to move.
Time to explore.
Time to get stronger.
"We split into three groups," Kael said, voice carrying through the cracked hall. "Group one scouts north. Group two goes west. Group three stays with the unbound and guards them."
"The unbound need to bind," Somi replied, her Magic Seeker mask flattening her tone. "Nine remain. Probability of survival without binding: less than twelve hours. Recommendation: immediate binding to the second Anchor Point."
Maria, one of the unbound, shook her head. "I told you… won't become… one of those things…"
Grey skin. Sunken eyes. Fading.
"Then you'll be dead by nightfall," Somi said. "Your choice."
Cold. True.
I looked at the second Anchor Point. A blue-violet crystal pulsing in the chamber's center. It called to me.
Or maybe I called to it.
Both, the mask whispered. We hunger for each other. Symbiosis. Consumption. Unity.
"Sidd, you're with me," Kael said. "North team. You, me, Gery, and two others. Lucy and Somi stay here and coordinate defense."
Lucy started to protest. "But—"
"You're exhausted," Kael cut in. "You barely slept. Rest. We'll be back before the tide rises."
She wanted to argue, but the dark crescents under her eyes answered for her.
"Be careful," she said to me.
"Always am."
Liar, the mask added.
We stepped out as the grey light bled across the Cradle.
Outside was worse than I remembered.
Ruins stretched in every direction—towers, temples, and shapes that weren't quite buildings anymore. Black-red flesh coated everything. Wet. Breathing. Alive.
Bridges of bone and sinew stitched the gaps. Some steady. Some hanging by threads that twitched when the wind shifted.
Water everywhere. Pools. Channels. An ocean without reflection.
"Stay close," Kael said. "Anything moves, we retreat. No heroics."
We moved as one—five survivors with Anchor-strength in our limbs. Weapons loose, eyes sharp.
My Flesh Sight opened.
Veins of red light pulsed through the walls. Essence flowed like a river beneath our feet, all of it pulling north—toward the mountain of meat where the Mother slept.
We were inside her body.
And you're part of her now, the mask reminded me. The binding made you hers—partially, temporarily. But hers.
"Shut up."
"What?" Gery glanced over.
"Not you. The mask."
"It's still talking?"
"Constantly. Louder. Hungrier."
"Should you bind again? Would that help?"
I looked at my right arm. Black-red veins had crept to my shoulder and collarbone, beginning to lace my neck.
"I don't know. Maybe. Or it makes everything worse."
Silence returned, heavy as the air.
Half an hour later we found another temple—smaller, half-collapsed. Inside, dozens of memory spheres floated, their light a sick blue.
"Those again?" Chen asked—quiet, wary.
"Memories," I said. "Previous challengers. The Anchor records them."
I reached for the nearest sphere.
It rippled under my touch, and the world fell away.
A man stood before a Tier-4 Anchor Point—huge, scarred, iron in human shape. Essence flared around him. Light veined his chest.
Text appeared before him—only for him. Only for me, here inside his memory.
[SYSTEM] First Anchor Binding: COMPLETE
[SYSTEM] True Name: ASSIGNED
[SYSTEM] Aspect Detected: BERSERKER'S END
[SYSTEM] True Name: THE BLADE THAT BREAKS
[SYSTEM] Attributes: GAINED
[SYSTEM] Flaw: RECEIVED
His face drained. He tried to speak. Nothing came out.
He tried again. Silence.
Days bled past. He fought. Won. Laughed more. Bled more.
Each kill made him stronger. Each victory cracked him further.
He was a blade that could break anything.
Including himself.
Final image: him laughing through shattered ribs, charging something vast.
The Blade broke.
The memory ended.
I staggered back, breath burning in my throat.
"Sidd?" Kael steadied me. "What did you see?"
"A warrior," I said. "True Name: The Blade That Breaks. Power and a curse. He couldn't tell anyone."
"A name?" Gery frowned. "What does that even mean?"
"The Anchors don't just give power. They define you. They name your soul."
Chen's voice was a thread. "Did… you get one?"
I hesitated.
I had. I'd just shoved it down beneath the noise of transformation.
I opened my mouth.
Nothing.
Tried again. Silence.
The Flaw was there all along.
You can't tell them, the mask confirmed. Your True Name. Your Flaws. Your Aspect. All hidden. You bear your truth alone.
"I'm fine," I said, though my throat still burned. "Just… processing."
While the others studied more spheres, I found a shadowed corner and looked inward.
The information surfaced at once, clean and merciless.
[SYSTEM] First Anchor Binding — Tier 4: FLESH CRADLE
[SYSTEM] Aspect Detected: THE LOST WANDERER
[SYSTEM] True Name (Long): HE WHO HUNGERS FOR TRUTH IN THE DARK
[SYSTEM] True Name (Short): THE LOST ONE
[SYSTEM] Attributes
— DEVOURER: Consume essence and abilities. Absorption 45%. Temporary retention 24h. Permanent gain +0.5% per consumption.
— TRUTH-SEER: Perceive deception and illusion. Passive. Always active.
— ADAPTIVE FLESH: Automatic bodily adaptation. Minor regeneration, disease/poison resistance, environmental adjustment.
— ESSENCE DETECTION: Sense essence within 500m; distinguish type, strength, corruption.
[SYSTEM] Flaws
— THE SILENCE: Cannot speak your True Name/Aspect/Attributes/Flaws. Attempts result in muteness.
— THE HUNGER: Must consume essence regularly. 12h: pain. 24h: mental degradation. 48h: loss of self-control. 72h: berserk. 96h: identity erasure.
— THE CORRUPTION: Each consumption accelerates transformation. Warning 70%. Critical 90%. Point-of-No-Return 100%.
— THE TRUTH: You see truths you cannot unsee—fears, lies, shame. Constant exposure erodes sanity.
[SYSTEM] Current Status
— Name: Sidd (mundane)
— True Name: The Lost One
— Aspect: The Lost Wanderer
— Rank: Awakened (Tier-4 Binding)
— Corruption: 34%
— Hunger Timer: 8h remaining
— Humanity: 66%
— Physical Changes: Hair 47% white; eyes fully black; veins right arm/chest, creeping to neck; mask bone-white, horns show with emotion
— Artifact: Mask of Hunger (Tier-4) — Bonded, cannot remove
— Binding: Flesh Cradle Anchor (Tier-4) — Primary
The text faded. The weight stayed.
The Lost One.
Accurate.
Lost from humanity.
Lost from sanity.
Lost from the person I was before the train.
The Hunger meant I had to feed or fall apart.
The Corruption meant feeding pushed me closer to something not-me.
The Truth meant I would see every concealed fracture in everyone around me.
And the Silence meant I could never ask for help.
Alone, even in a crowd.
Now you understand, the mask whispered. We are the same. Hungry. Lost. Wedded to truth that cuts.
"I'm going insane," I said.
Yes. But powerfully insane. Better than weakly sane… isn't it?
No answer. Just my heartbeat in the ruined hush—slow, heavy, hollow.