One night, Glenn approached Clive.
There was no emotion on his face.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Empty.
And that was precisely what made it unsettling.
They were in the main chamber, when most of the other den inhabitants were already asleep. The torchlight along the walls flickered softly, casting unstable shadows across the stone floor. The atmosphere was far too quiet for a conversation that would decide so many things.
"I want to try absorbing a second core," Glenn said.
His voice was flat. Too flat. As if the decision was not something he had just considered, but a conclusion he had accepted long ago.
Clive did not answer immediately.
He looked at Glenn for a long moment.
He was not measuring strength.Not calculating probabilities.
He was looking past the empty expression, searching for the small cracks that were always present in humans who still hesitated. Fear. Anger. Or at least unease.
He found none.
"No," Clive said at last.
One word.
Short. Firm.
Like a door closing without room to be pushed.
Glenn was not surprised.
"Why?" he asked. His tone remained the same. "The others succeeded."
"Because the others are not fighting what you are fighting," Clive replied. His voice was low, controlled. "You still cannot tell which voice is yours, which belongs to the monster, and which belongs to Mola."
The name was not spoken loudly.
Yet it fell between them like a stone dropped into still water.
Glenn's fingers moved. His hand slowly clenched, nails pressing into his palm until the skin turned pale.
"I am strong," he said.
Not a defense. A statement.
"This is not about strength," Clive replied. "It is about control. And you know that."
Glenn stared at Clive for a few seconds longer.
As if he wanted to say something.
As if he wanted to scream.
But nothing came out.
He turned and walked away, his steps calm, far too calm for someone who had just been refused.
Clive did not call him back.
He knew that some decisions could not be forced into understanding.
*******
Two months had passed since Clive absorbed his second core.
In that time, their group changed fundamentally.
They were no longer a collection of survivors walking together because they had no other choice.
They became a unit.
Clive, with two cores, stood as a living sensor. He read the terrain before their feet touched stone. He felt the movement of energy even when the corridors still appeared empty.
Dilos, also with two cores, became the strategic center. He read enemy patterns, connecting small fragments of information into a larger picture that could be used.
Zorilla stood at the front line as both shield and destroyer. He absorbed the first pressure and shattered enemy formations before they could fully form.
Ted identified weaknesses from afar, choosing the precise moment to end battles before they dragged on.
Dorde moved like lightning, breaking enemy focus, drawing attention, then disappearing before retaliation could come.
And Glenn.
Glenn remained with a single core.
And an unhealed mental wound.
A total of seven cores were now in their possession. Six were obtained from clearing corridors over the past two months, and one remained from the previous five cores that had already been absorbed by Dilos, Zorilla, Ted, and Dorde.
Their strength increased.
But time did not stop waiting.
One morning, a guard arrived.
His face was as expressionless as stone. No hatred. No sympathy.
"Only one month left," he said shortly. "If the processing corridor is not cleared, the decision will be made by Warden Zago."
"What decision?" Ted asked.
The guard looked at him blankly. "Not my concern."
He left just like that.
Silence filled the room.
"What does that mean?" Dorde muttered.
"We will never truly know what goes on in Warden Zago's mind," Clive replied.
Glenn raised his head.
His eyes burned.
"We have to enter the fourth corridor," he said. "Now."
"We are not ready," Clive answered.
"We do not have time to be ready," Glenn shot back sharply. "One month. That is all we have. What is your plan? Clear corridors one through three again and hope it is enough? It will never be enough."
"If we go in now and die, that solves nothing either," Clive said calmly.
"We will not die," Glenn hissed. "We just need to go in, observe the situation, then leave. Observation. No combat."
Dilos exhaled softly. "That is still extremely risky."
"Everything in this den is risky," Glenn raised his voice. "From the first day we were here, we have taken risks. The difference now is that we have strength. We have a team. We have strategy. Why are we still afraid?"
Clive looked at each face before him.
"Your opinions?"
Zorilla shrugged. "I agree with you. But I also understand Glenn. We do need to try something."
"If it is observation only, it might be possible," Ted added. "With extra preparation and a clear retreat plan."
"I can scout," Dorde said. "Fast in, fast out."
Dilos remained silent for a moment before giving a small nod. "I do not like this. But if it must be done, we do it very carefully."
All eyes returned to Clive.
He felt the two monster wills inside him stir, drawn by the tension in the air. He suppressed them.
"Fine," he said at last. "We will enter the fourth corridor. But only ten steps past the gate. No more. We observe, record, then leave. No combat. No confrontation. No matter what happens, we retreat."
Glenn smiled faintly.
"Alright."
*******
That night, they laid out their plan with a calm that was carefully forced.
A small fire in the corner of the chamber offered almost no warmth. Its light trembled against the stone walls, which were covered in old scratch marks, as if the nest itself had once tried to flee from something. The smell of rusted iron, dried blood, and old sweat blended together into a single scent, one that had become far too familiar to all of them.
Clive stood at the center of the circle. He did not need a map. The corridors were already etched into his mind, not as lines and distances, but as pressure, pulses, and faint shadows of will.
"Formation," he said briefly.
Zorilla stepped forward without being asked. His massive body nearly blocked the entire line of sight. His muscles tensed reflexively, like a living wall ready to absorb the first impact of anything that emerged from the darkness.
"I'll take the front," he said. There was no arrogance in his voice. It was simply a fact.
Clive nodded. "I'll be right behind you."
Not to attack. Not to lead with a blade. His role was subtler, and far more dangerous. A living sensor. A reader of the field. A listener to sounds that had not yet become screams.
"Dilos in the middle," Clive continued. "Watch the patterns. Movement. Rhythm. Do not focus on a single point for too long."
Dilos gave a small nod. His eyes were already half closed, his mind moving quickly, assembling possibilities even before they took a single step.
"Ted and Dorde on the flanks," Clive said. "Ted, do not release anything unless I give the order. Dorde, you are the second set of eyes. If there is a sudden change, you are the first to notice."
Both of them signaled readiness with brief nods.
Then, a short pause.
"Glenn," Clive said.
All eyes turned to the man.
"You stay in the rear," Clive continued. "Remain within my reach. Do not move ahead. Do not fall behind. Do not stray."
Glenn nodded. His face was calm. Too calm.
Clive restrained himself from saying more. He knew that anything he said now would only bounce off the wall Glenn had already built inside himself.
"The mission," Clive said, drawing everyone's focus back to the core. "We go in. We count the number of monsters. We identify movement patterns. We look for structural weaknesses in the corridor. Cracks. Narrow points. Dead zones. After that, we leave."
"Maximum time?" Ted asked.
"Fifteen minutes," Clive answered without hesitation. "If after ten minutes we do not have a clear enough picture, we withdraw early."
"And if a monster approaches?" Dorde asked.
"We pull back," Clive replied. "No debate."
He looked at them one by one, making sure his words sank in rather than merely being heard.
"The retreat signal comes only from me," he continued. "No one is allowed to argue. No matter what you see. No matter what you think you can do. If I say retreat, we retreat."
Zorilla nodded. Dilos nodded. Ted and Dorde nodded.
Glenn nodded as well.
But Clive felt something tremble in the air. Extremely subtle. Extremely deep. The two monster wills within him stirred slowly, as if sensing something enticing in the distance. He suppressed them without any change in expression.
"Tomorrow morning," Clive said at last. "We go in. Sleep now. Your minds need to be clear."
One by one, they dispersed.
Zorilla lay down in the corner of the room, his breathing heavy but steady. Dilos sat cross legged, entering a shallow meditation to calm his thoughts. Ted checked his equipment one last time before finally closing his eyes. Dorde was already asleep even before the fire dimmed, his body accustomed to resting in the gaps between danger.
Clive sat with his back against the stone wall. He did not truly sleep. He closed his eyes and guarded the boundaries within his mind, ensuring that the two monsters remained still, contained. For tonight, at least.
But Glenn remained awake.
He sat in the darkest corner of the chamber, his back pressed against the cold stone. His eyes were open, staring blankly at the floor. His breathing was steady, too steady, like someone trying very hard to appear calm.
Inside his head, there was no silence.
At first, it was only a faint whisper. Like wind slipping through a distant crack in the stone. It did not form words. It was only a sensation, like a light touch at the back of his mind.
Glenn set his jaw. He knew this.
He tried to focus on his breathing. In. Out. Counting his heartbeat. Remembering Clive's voice. Remembering the formation. Remembering the rules.
But the whisper drew closer.
"At last…"
The voice was soft. Too soft for something that lived in this place.
Glenn swallowed. He did not answer.
"I know you are awake," the voice continued. It did not come from outside. It did not come from any direction. It simply appeared, directly at the center of his consciousness. "You are always awake when you draw near that door."
Glenn clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms until pain bloomed, sharp and real. He needed something real.
"Be quiet," he whispered softly, barely audible.
But the voice did not stop.
"I have been waiting for you, Glenn. For a very long time. Every step you take, every monster you kill, every night you pretend to sleep… I see it all."
Glenn's heart began to beat faster.
"I know you are tired," the voice said, now sounding almost full of empathy. "I know you want more. You want to stop holding yourself back. You want to become strong enough that you no longer have to be afraid."
Images surfaced in his mind. Brief flashes. A wider corridor. Greenish light pulsing along the walls. A massive shape, not fully visible.
Glenn ground his teeth. "That's a lie," he said quietly. "You just want to take over."
A soft laugh followed. Not loud. Not threatening. And that was what made it far more terrifying.
"I do not need to take anything," the voice replied. "You will give it to me. You always move closer of your own will."
Glenn lowered his head, his breathing starting to falter.
"I have already prepared a place for you," the voice continued. "A place where you do not have to share your voice with anyone. A place where you do not have to bow to anyone's orders."
Another vision appeared. Clive standing at the front. Dilos in the middle. Zorilla facing something too large even for him. Blood. Screams. The silence afterward.
"And your friends," the voice said gently, almost sweetly. "They will become part of it too."
Glenn covered his ears with both hands, even though he knew it was useless.
"Get out of my head," he whispered desperately.
The voice did not fade.
It drew even closer.
"Tomorrow," it said. "You will take ten steps into the fourth corridor."
Glenn froze.
"That will be enough," the voice continued. "Ten steps to see. Ten steps to understand. Ten steps to decide."
Silence wrapped around his consciousness for a moment.
Then came one final sentence, spoken with absolute certainty.
"And after that, there will be no turning back."
Glenn's eyes snapped wide open.
The fire in the corner of the room was nearly extinguished. Shadows moved slowly along the walls, stretching and distorting. In the center of the chamber, Clive was still leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, his face calm.
Glenn stared at him for a long time.
He did not know whether tomorrow morning he would stand as part of that unit.
Or as the first door to their total destruction.