The air in the underground fortress was thick.....laced with the smell of metal and rot. Sparks hissed as black-gloved hands twisted molten steel into shape. Beneath the crimson glow of the furnace, the Damned Ones gathered — ten figures gathered.
At the center stood Don Skull, their leader — his pale mask carved from the jawbone of a slain Hellforged beast, and his body stitched with metallic veins that pulsed like living fire. His laughter rolled through the cavern as he lifted a glass vial filled with something… alive.
The liquid inside wasn't still. It pulsed..... like a small, glowing heart — throbbing with deep purple light.
"We've done it," Don Skull said, his voice sharp with triumph. "At last… the Maker's scent is captured."
Around him stood the rest of the Damned Ones — each an expert of Hellforging, each a monster in their own right.
Together, they had created something that shouldn't exist — a Hellforged relic shaped like a small obsidian orb, veined with liquid light that glowed from within.
Don Skull placed it carefully into a containment cradle.
"The Wormcall Core," he said proudly. "Forged from the fragments of the Maker's essence and tempered with the souls of fifty Hollowborn test subjects. Once activated, it will call to the Maker's beasts… draw their Wormholes open wherever we desire."
Lady Vorna Fray...tilted her head, her voice was low and melodic. "A storm in flesh and blood… we're truly bringing apocalypse closer."
Don Skull smirked. "Apocalypse is just rebirth through suffering. When Dravenloch burns, the families will fall into chaos. And in that chaos, we will harvest the fragments we need for the next stage."
Kain Falcon growled, his metal jaw grinding. "So the target is confirmed?"
Don Skull nodded. "Dravenloch City — the stronghold of the Maverick Family. The city that dares to stand upon cursed ground and still pretend it's clean. Their arrogance will draw the first breach."
Lady Sera Vermin chuckled. "And what of the Hollowborn masked ones? They won't stand by while their hunting ground burns."
"Let them come," Don Skull replied. "The Maker's curse recognizes none as friend or foe. Even the Masked Ones will drown in the storm."
A cruel silence followed.
Then, Don Skull turned to the Twins....his shadows.
"Ro. Rael. Take the Wormcall Core. Hide it beneath the ruins north of the city. Once the Maker's moon rises, activate it."
The Twins bowed in unison, their mirrored smiles wide and wrong. "As you wish… Father of Ruin."
"Zod.....will this be an issue for you? Since we would be attacking the City you're from" Don Skull said.....with a smile.
"No....." Zod said.....with a low voice.
Meanwhile, at the Maverick Stronghold…
The great hall of Maverick Keep was built from black stone that shimmered faintly under the candlelight. Portraits of the family's ancestors lined the walls — each one watching with cold, painted eyes as Lord Alaric Maverick paced across the room, fury etched into every step.
"You let them escape," he hissed, turning on his daughter. "You, Mabel. The Masked Ones were right before you, and you allowed them to vanish!"
Mabel stood still....her expression was calm but distant. Her long crimson cloak draped across the marble floor, and though her armor was scarred from battle, her posture never wavered. "Father, I—"
"Silence!" Alaric's voice boomed, shaking the chamber. "Do you have any idea what this means? The Falcons are already spreading rumors that we're weak. That we're protecting traitors."
"I didn't let them escape," Mabel said quietly. "I made a choice."
Alaric froze, narrowing his eyes. "A choice?"
"Yes," she said, stepping forward. "They weren't just thieves or rebels. There was something different about them — the boy especially."
"The boy?" Alaric snapped. "You speak of one of the Masked Ones as if he were human."
Mabel's tone hardened. "Because he was."
That earned her a sharp intake of breath from the gathered council members. Her uncle, Lord Fen Maverick, rose slowly from his seat at the table.
"Brother," he said calmly, placing a hand on Alaric's shoulder. "Let the girl speak."
"She's already spoken enough—"
"Alaric." Fen's voice cut sharper than a blade. "We've both seen what happens when we mistake fury for wisdom."
Alaric's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt again.
Fen turned to Mabel. "You believe these Masked Ones are connected to the Hollowborn, don't you?"
"Yes," she said. "They moved like them. Fought like them. But they weren't feral. They had control — purpose. I think the rumors of the Hollowborn's awakening aren't just myths. Someone's teaching them… guiding them."
Fen nodded thoughtfully. "And if that's true… then there's more at play here than rebellion."
Alaric finally exhaled, rubbing his temples. His rage began to fade, replaced by grim contemplation. "You think they have ties to the Maker's curse?"
"I don't know," Mabel admitted. "But I intend to find out."
Fen gave her a small, approving nod. "Then follow your instincts, niece. You've always had a sharper eye for danger than most of us."
Alaric's voice softened, though it carried a weary edge. "If you're wrong… this could cost us everything."
Mabel met his gaze without hesitation. "Then let it."
Elsewhere, beneath Dravenloch…
Deep under the city streets, far below the reach of sunlight, two shadows moved through the ancient sewer tunnels — Ro and Rael, the Twin Forger siblings.
The Wormcall Core pulsed faintly between them, its glow reflecting off the wet stone walls. They whispered to each other as one would to their own reflection.
"Do you think the Maker hears us?" Ro murmured.
Rael smiled faintly. "He always hears those who call through suffering."
They stopped at the heart of the tunnel system — a vast circular chamber covered in sigils older than any of the five families. There, they placed the Core upon a pedestal of bones.
As they stepped back, the orb began to vibrate. The runes around it ignited with a sickly red light.
Rael's eyes gleamed. "And so it begins."
The Wormcall Core pulsed once. Twice.
Then the ground shuddered.
The air split open with a low, echoing wail. From the ceiling, a spiral of distorted light tore through reality — and from within it came a single claw. Then another.
The Maker's beasts had found their way.
Back at the Maverick Keep…
Alaric stood by the balcony, gazing out toward Dravenloch's distant skyline. The horizon was glowing faintly — red, pulsing, like a heartbeat in the dark.
Fen stepped beside him, his expression grim. "Do you feel that?"
Alaric nodded slowly. "The air's wrong. It feels… alive."
And then they saw it — a flash of violet light far in the distance, followed by an explosion that shook the earth beneath their feet.
Servants and guards rushed into the hall, shouting.
"My Lord! Wormhole activity — within the city!"
"What?" Alaric's face went pale. "That's impossible! The city's protected by wards!"
But even as he spoke, the wards' protective runes flared and began to crack.
Fen's eyes widened. "Something's calling the beasts."
Alaric's voice broke into a shout. "Get Mabel! Now!"
As soldiers scrambled, another tremor rocked the fortress. From the far windows, the sky seemed to split — a vast, spiraling vortex of red and black energy opening above Dravenloch.
And from it poured the impossible — dozens of the Maker's curse beasts, roaring as they descended upon the city like falling stars.
The city bells began to ring — one by one — until the entire skyline of Dravenloch burned in crimson light.
Mabel burst into the hall, her cloak already on, sword drawn. "Father!"
Alaric turned to her, his voice trembling with rage and fear. "The beasts are here. Someone has opened a Wormhole inside our city!"
Fen's gaze darkened. "No… not someone. Something."
Far beneath them, in the depths of the city, the Wormcall Core pulsed once more — brighter, faster — like a heart rejoicing at the birth of chaos.
And in the distance, Don Skull stood atop a cliff overlooking Dravenloch's burning skyline, his mask gleaming under the crimson moon.
He raised his hand, whispering to no one in particular:
"Now let's see how your noble hearts fare against the will of the gods."
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TO BE CONTINUED...