Straightening, he rolled his shoulders and took in the scene again—walls of skulls, the endless pale carpet beneath their feet, the oppressive stillness. Nephis had already turned away, apparently satisfied that he was intact, and began moving forward without hesitation.
She naturally took the lead.
The hallway swallowed them as they advanced, and soon the only sound left in the world was the crunching and crackling of bones underfoot. Every step shattered something: a skull collapsing with a dry pop, a rib snapping like old kindling, fragments grinding together into powder. The noise echoed faintly, multiplying in the confined space until it felt as though the dead themselves were whispering.
Cassie flinched at one particularly loud crack. She lifted her foot, brow furrowing.
"These can't be the original inhabitants of the City, right?" she said quietly. "There are so many. The City may be big, but it didn't seem that big. And besides… if everyone died, who buried them?"
Sunny shrugged, though no one could see it. "Maybe they belong to another civilization. Or maybe they were sacrifices." He glanced at the skull-lined walls. "The Gods do love human suffering, after all."
Nephis looked back at him over her shoulder, her expression unreadable in the dim light. After a moment, she turned forward again and continued walking.
"There is a possibility both of you are overlooking," she said calmly.
Sunny and Cassie both focused on her.
"These might not have been buried all at once," Nephis continued. "They could have been placed here over generations. We don't know how long this City existed. And none of us are archaeologists—we can't tell the age of bones just by looking at them."
The thought settled heavily over the group.
If she was right, then this place was not merely a mass grave.
It was a tradition.
A long, deliberate act repeated again and again, until death itself had become part of the City's architecture.
Before long, they reached the point where Sunny had been forced to recall Gloomy. The dim light ahead grew clearer, spreading across the floor in a pale, steady glow that did nothing to dispel the chill crawling up his spine.
Instinctively, both he and Nephis tightened their grips on their swords.
Gloomy coiled around the Midnight Shard like living smoke, its edge darkened and hungry, while faint silver radiance seeped through Nephis' skin, tracing the contours of her muscles and pooling beneath her eyes. Without a word, they shifted their positions, placing themselves slightly ahead and to either side, shielding Cassie between them.
Step by careful step, they advanced into the light.
Sunny's breath caught.
There was no ambush. No lurking monster. No hoard of glittering treasure, nor even another chaotic sprawl of bones. Instead, the chamber was circular, its walls formed entirely of bone—yet unlike the corridor behind them, nothing here was scattered or broken. Skulls and femurs were stacked with deliberate precision, interlocked and layered in repeating patterns that curved along the walls like pale mosaics.
It was orderly. Intentional. Almost… reverent.
Sunny swept the room with his shadow one final time, pushing it into every crevice and hollow. Finding nothing, he let out a slow breath and dismissed the Midnight Shard.
"It's clear."
Nephis glanced at him, searching his face for a moment, then nodded and let the radiance beneath her skin fade. She lowered her sword, though her posture remained alert.
The three of them began to circle the chamber, their footsteps soft against the bone-strewn floor. The air felt different here—still heavy, but no longer hostile. It reminded Sunny less of a battlefield and more of a shrine.
Cassie trailed her fingers along the smooth surface of the stacked bones, moving carefully, as though afraid to disturb them. Her expression softened, sorrow weighing down her features.
"So many souls," she whispered. "And now there is no one left to remember them."
Sunny glanced at her, then looked away. He had no comforting words to offer, and for once, he did not feel the urge to fill the silence.
Instead, his attention was caught by a section of smooth stone embedded between the bonework. On it, someone had scratched a crude image: a stick figure with exaggerated, obscene additions, childish in execution and impossible to take seriously.
For a moment, Sunny almost laughed.
He stared at the drawing, then reached out and brushed his fingers lightly over the faded lines. "Figures," he muttered inwardly. "Even in a place like this."
His thoughts drifted. Maybe the one who drew it had been bored. Or afraid. Or just young. He wondered, idly, if that same person had dropped the Soul Shard near the pit.
Probably not, he decided. The etching looked old—far older than any unattended shard would survive. Monsters devoured those things just as eagerly as humans did.
Still… Sunny allowed himself a small, private smile.
He liked to imagine that whoever had carved that ridiculous little figure had unknowingly paid the price of desecrating this solemn placeby losing some of their money.
Sunny's smile faded though, when he caught something else in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, leaning closer to see it in the dim light, his eyes widened to their limits.
"What..the hell..."