A decision to follow the scouts wasn't made lightly.
Xin had hesitated, his gaze flickering between Belial's battered form and Raven's unreadable expression. But staying put wasn't an option—not with the sun still lurking beyond the horizon and Belial too weak to move fast on his own. Toren and Lira had offered a camp, a chance to regroup, and that slim promise of safety tipped the scales. So they went, a ragged band of five threading their way into the belly of the mountain, guided by the faint shimmer of crystals embedded in the tunnel walls.
The air inside was damp and heavy, clinging to their skin like a second layer. The crystals—jagged, luminescent shards jutting from the rock—cast a strange, refracted glow. Colors twisted and bled into one another, hues that didn't belong in the outside world: bruised purples, sickly greens, a shimmer of silver that seemed to writhe if you stared too long. Lira had called it "ghost-glow" once, offhandedly, as they'd entered. No one had the energy to challenge her on it. They moved in silence, footsteps muffled by the slick stone floor, the only sound the occasional drip of water echoing from somewhere deep within.
The tunnels were worse on the way out. Narrower, darker, the walls pressing in until it felt like the mountain itself was breathing down their necks. The echoes were the worst part—unpredictable, warped. A single step could bounce back minutes later, distorted into a low growl or a sharp, mocking laugh. It clawed at your nerves, made you question what was real. Belial, trudging at the rear, kept his head down, his thoughts a storm of frustration he didn't voice aloud. How do you screw up this bad? he thought, glaring at the backs of Toren and Lira's heads. You're supposed to be scouts—best of the batch—and you lead us through a gauntlet of horrors? Amateur hour.
He couldn't deny they'd had their share of close calls coming in. Skin-crawlers—those skittering, eyeless things with too many legs—had nearly swarmed them in one passage. Then there'd been the mind-bats, their shrieks burrowing into your skull until you couldn't tell your own thoughts from the noise. Five times...Five times! by his count, they'd brushed against death. And that was just with the scouts leading. When it had been just him, Xin, and Raven, they'd faced plenty of terrors too—but Belial had a knack for spotting safer routes, and Raven's reflexes were uncanny. Together, they'd survived. The scouts, though? They were supposed to be supposed pros, not stumbling cavemen stripped of gear by some Coalition "Act." Yet here they were, still breathing. He had to give them that much.
The tunnel spat them out into a blast of cold, mineral-sharp air.
They emerged under a sky smeared with silver clouds, the moonlight spilling over a landscape that looked carved from nightmares. The mountains loomed like frozen titans, their peaks jagged and veined with glowing crystal. Below, the terrain sloped into a rocky field—no trees, no grass, just stone and patches of weird blue moss that pulsed faintly underfoot, like it was alive. The mountain they'd left behind stood as one of the few oases in this wasteland, a cruel tease of shelter in an otherwise barren expanse.
They walked for miles, spreading out but keeping each other in sight. The silence held until they crested a ridge overlooking a basin that glittered like broken glass, studded with boulder-sized gems that caught the moonlight in eerie fractals. Xin, as he often did when the quiet grew too thick, broke it first.
"So," he said, his tone deceptively light, "what exactly were you two hoping to accomplish here?"
Lira blinked, caught off guard mid-step. "You mean… our mission?"
"No, I mean you," Xin clarified, kicking a pebble down the slope. "Why'd you come? If you had a choice."
Toren arched an eyebrow, his weathered face creasing with faint amusement. "I did have a choice. Had something in mind—a theory I wanted to chase. What about you?"
Xin shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "We weren't supposed to be here. Might as well get to know the people we're stuck with."
A beat passed. Lira glanced at Toren, her brow furrowing. "Hold on—what do you mean you weren't supposed to be here?"
Xin hesitated, suddenly sheepish. "We, uh… missed our train."
Lira's jaw dropped slightly. "You missed the—?"
"The train to the Safe Zone," Belial cut in, his voice flat as he trudged past her. "We took the wrong one."
Toren's face paled, his calm demeanor cracking. "You took a different train? And it brought you here?"
Raven, who'd been silent and slightly apart from the group, gave a small nod, his eyes fixed on the horizon like he was waiting for something to emerge from it.
Xin chuckled, though it was a hollow sound. "Yeah. Supposed to hit the Safe Zone, but we weren't paying attention. Ended up in this hellhole instead."
Lira sank onto a nearby slab of rock, blinking slowly as if trying to process it. "That's insane. You've been here this whole time?"
"Three months, maybe four," Belial said, his tone clipped.
Toren exhaled, casting Belial a sidelong glance that lingered a little too long. "Most don't last two weeks. I came with a group—chasing a...theory—but they were gone in the first month."
Belial didn't reply, but his eyes flashed with a quiet defiance
We're not most people.
Raven's head snapped up suddenly, his gaze locking on the sky. "Storm's coming," he said, his voice low and certain.
They followed his line of sight. Dark gray clouds churned in from the north, swelling fast, like a predator stalking prey. Lightning flickered deep within, silent and ominous—no thunder, just a growing pressure that pressed against their eardrums.
"Let's move," Belial said, already turning downhill.
They descended into a narrow canyon, its walls studded with razor-sharp crystal outcroppings that glinted like teeth. The path curved, then dropped into a tight ravine. Near the bottom, they found it—a small cave, hidden behind a jutting slab of rock, bone-dry and shadowed. Xin darted inside first, checking the space with quick, efficient movements.
"Dead-end," he called back, his voice echoing faintly. "But solid. No razors'll get us in here if the storm kicks up."
They filed in, the space tight but bearable. Crystal veins along the ceiling pulsed with a dim, steady glow—enough to see by, not enough to draw attention from anything lurking outside. They sat, shoulders brushing, breathing hard from the trek. The silence that followed wasn't peaceful, but it wasn't hostile either—just the heavy quiet of survival.
Then they heard it.
A slow, rhythmic sound, like wind at first—deep, subtle, rising and falling. Raven's eyes narrowed, his head tilting toward the back of the cave.
"Something's sleeping," he said, barely above a whisper.
Everyone froze, the air thickening with tension. Toren's hand hovered near his belt, though he had no weapon to draw. "What kind of something?" he breathed.
Raven didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the darkness.
Xin's fingers brushed the dharma wheel at his side, a faint shimmer of ether sparking at his touch.
"So we die as dinner, or we die by nature," Belial muttered, his voice low and eerily calm.
"We're cornered," Lira hissed, her eyes darting to the entrance, where the storm's first gusts howled past.
"We can still fight...i think," Belial countered, though he didn't move.
The breathing continued, steady and unhurried. Deeper in the cave, a silhouette took shape—massive, coiled, its edges blending into the rock like it had grown there. Whatever it was, it dwarfed them, its presence ancient and oppressive. Asleep, for now.
They edged back, inch by agonizing inch, barely daring to breathe. When they reached the entrance, they huddled just outside, the storm's winds lashing at their faces—cold, wet, and sharp with grit. It was safer than facing whatever slept within.
Belial stood like a statue, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "We'll move when the storm passes."
Raven said nothing, but his eyes kept flicking back to the cave, as if the breathing still echoed in his ears.
Xin broke the silence, his voice softer now, almost reflective. "We didn't mean to be here. But we are. Maybe that means something."
Toren frowned, his brow creasing. "You think it's gods will?"
Belial winced.
"No," Xin said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I think it's a really big mistake. But we're alive."