The Deathforged stood before the grand cliffside of the island, an immense wall of stone rising out of the blood-red sea. Jagged black rock spiraled outward from the cliffs like the ribs of some colossal corpse, fractured and sharp. Embedded throughout the stone were pale, pointed shapes—bone-white and weathered—jutting from the rock at unnatural angles, as if the cliff itself had grown teeth.
The air here was heavy. Sulfur clung to the wind, and the distant horizon shimmered beneath the crimson veil that eternally stained the Demon Territories' sky.
Atlas stood in thought as he flicked the red water from his gloves, droplets splattering against the stone at his feet.
'There should be a tunnel system… I need to check again.'
He turned toward Lorian, who was scanning left and right, his head constantly on a swivel.
"Hybrid."
"W-what?!" Lorian snapped, irritation masking the fear tightening his chest. "My name is Lorian, jackass."
Atlas spat to the side. "Okay then… Lorian." He grunted. "Give me the paper. I need to double-check something."
"Sure thing, Cap." Lorian quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out his hand.
Lint. Just lint.
"Oh… um… I don't have it."
He froze, then frantically patted himself down. Atlas's eyes widened.
"You what?"
"I don't have it," Lorian said with a nervous chuckle. "Must've fallen out in the ocean…"
Atlas closed his eyes and sighed. He was far too irritated—and far too tired—to manage anything else.
"You read it, right?" Atlas said flatly. "There's a tunnel system."
"Um…" Lorian had, in fact, not read it. It had been written in Elven, which he absolutely could not read. "I did… and, uh… there is a tunnel system."
The assassin nodded once and turned away, walking toward the sheer wall of the cliffside. There was no visible path in or out—just stone, bone, and shadow.
Meanwhile, Seris stood beside Ako. The small beast-kin trembled, her fur matted and her clothes soaked through. She had nearly drowned, after all. Seris looked down at her gently.
"You okay?"
"No…" Ako muttered. "I just embarrassed myself in front of him…"
"In front of Atlas?" Seris raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah…" Ako pouted, pulling her knees to her chest. "He thinks I'm a weakling now."
"You're not a liability," Seris said softly. "Vorenna wouldn't have picked you if she thought you were." She patted Ako's head with a reassuring smile. "Think about it—how can you be useful right now?"
Ako thought for a moment, then glanced toward Atlas, who was still searching the cliffside without success. An idea sparked. She dropped to all fours and pressed her nose to the ground, sniffing the pebbles and damp stone. As a beast-kin, her Wild Resonance Signature granted her senses far sharper than any human's.
She crawled forward, nose brushing rock and dirt, following a scent only she could perceive. When she reached the base of the cliffside, she stopped.
And, like a dog, she began to dig.
At the same time, Atlas's irritation had reached its peak. They had arrived at their destination and still couldn't find a way inside. Seris wasn't helping, Lorian was staring into a puddle trying to fix his hair, and Garruk… Garruk was sitting down, skipping stones across the red water.
Then Atlas looked over.
Ako was nearly ten feet into the ground, claws tearing through black dirt and loose stone.
"What are you doing now—"
"I found it!" Ako squealed from below. She scrambled out, covered head to toe in dirt. "The tunnels. I could smell an opening."
"Oh…" Atlas raised an eyebrow as he approached the pit. Embedded in the cliffside was a circular stone door, nearly invisible unless you knew what to look for. He let out a low grunt—his version of appreciation. "Everyone. Let's go."
He dropped down first, drawing his dagger and slicing through the ancient lock before forcing the door open. One by one, the Deathforged descended into the darkness.
The tunnel stretched endlessly ahead—a long, narrow passage carved from black stone. The red veil's light faded quickly, replaced by normal shadow. Torches lined the walls at regular intervals, spaced ten feet apart on alternating sides, their flames flickering weakly and repeating the pattern for what looked like miles.
Water pooled along the floor, rising to knee level for most of them. For Garruk, it barely reached his shins. For Ako, it came almost to her waist.
The ceiling soared forty feet overhead, and the tunnel widened nearly thirty feet across. It felt less like a tunnel and more like a buried cavern. Atlas signaled for them to follow, and they moved forward.
Ako lingered in the back. Seris slowed her pace to walk beside her.
"So…" Seris whispered, nudging her with an elbow. "Did you impress him?"
Ako's face flushed. "Why do you care?" She trudged ahead, splashing water. "You're too nice. It's weird."
Seris only smiled as she watched Ako leap onto Garruk's shoulders to escape the water. He didn't even seem to notice.
---
High above the grasslands outside the Umberspire State, Lykkos floated in the night sky, eighty feet off the ground. Below him stood an envoy of five hundred soldiers—Inquisitors of Godfall, Drakos's forces—arrayed in rigid formation. Black armor and dark cloth swallowed their forms, masks and veils hiding their faces. Weapons rested at their hips, waiting.
At the front sat a massive man atop a warhorse, his frame more muscle than flesh. A crude mask shaped like a troll's face covered his own.
"He said you'd come," the man called up.
"Drakos?" Lykkos asked softly. "So he sent you here knowing your fate… and you came willingly?"
Laughter rippled through the ranks before the troll-masked man spoke again. "He said we'd have a decent shot at beating you. Said he'd reward us if we brought him your head."
Lykkos sighed. "Poor souls. He lied." His gaze softened. "I wish we could go our separate ways. But I know how this dance ends. I would ask for his location, but no one ever tells me. I won't bother."
"Enough talk!" the man roared, raising his arm.
Arrows screamed into the sky.
Lykkos didn't move.
"Mankind," he murmured. "So prideful."
His eyes ignited—gold and silver intertwining like flowing rivers. The arrows froze inches from him.
---
Back in the Demon Territories, the Deathforged had been walking for hours. A thin fog crept through the tunnel, clinging to their legs and rising slowly.
"How long is this damn thing?" Lorian huffed.
"I'm hungry," Garruk grumbled, rubbing his broad orange stomach.
Lorian shot him a look. "I've heard your reputation. Don't get any funny ideas."
"I… sorry," Garruk muttered. "I know I scare people."
"Woah—geez," Lorian sighed. "Don't say it like that. Now I feel like a dick."
"You are a dick," Ako said plainly from his shoulders.
"Shut up."
"It's true—"
"Shut up!" Lorian snapped, stopping abruptly. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Seris asked.
"The whispers… No way that's just me."
"I don't know what you're—" Seris froze as something brushed her ear. She drew her bow instantly, birch wood gleaming pale against the darkness, crimson arrows nocked and ready. "I heard it."
"I hear them too…" Ako whispered.
Garruk said nothing, but his head slowly turned.
Only Atlas kept walking.
"They're illusions," he said. "Keep moving."
"How do you know?" Seris asked.
"I can't hear them," Atlas replied. "Illusions don't work on me."
Lorian groaned. "We get it! You can't see illusions. Blah, blah, blah. You're so pretentious—AHHH!"
The whispers exploded into screams, piercing and deafening. Fog thickened rapidly. Everyone but Atlas clutched their ears.
'This isn't good. They'll be slower from here on out. We're on a time constraint too...There's no telling what could be ahead to slow us down further.'
Atlas turned back, irritation clear on his face.
"I'm going ahead. Clearing the path. Figure yourselves out."
He vanished into the fog.
"Did he just leave us?!" Seris shouted.
"Leader my ass!" Lorian yelled.
"He'll be back!" Ako squeaked. "I… think!"