Maera lost interest in the creature, her gaze unwavering as she continued to scrutinize the two men beside her. Her piercing eyes lingered on their refined garments, their finely crafted weapons, and the almost arrogant aura emanating from the way they held themselves.
"So… the Empire of the Sun is interested in the Rift?"
She chuckled softly, a laugh devoid of warmth, pure cynicism ringing through.
"Well, isn't that amusing. You already have your own forbidden zones, don't you? So close to your radiant walls. Enough to satiate yourselves with unspeakable… countless abominations."
As if speaking to herself, she murmured, "But no, they come here. They're even more insane than I thought."
Kaien, seemingly unfazed by her hostility, let out a slow, almost theatrical sigh.
"People lose their minds when faced with what they don't understand…" He spun his blade effortlessly between his fingers, graceful as a dancer. "But I must admit… this Rift does have a certain charm, doesn't it?"
He paused, a playful smile flickering on his lips before his voice lowered, turning languid, almost contemplative.
"A world where titles mean nothing, where even gods hold no sway… A place where the only law that matters is survival. Those who adapt will thrive. Those who hesitate…"
He raised his blade before him, studying it for a moment as though gazing at an old friend, then locked his eyes, gleaming with a fierce light, onto Maera's.
"…will eventually be devoured."
Until now, Rai Tsukihara had remained silent, but at last, his attention drifted from the rising tension between Maera and Kaien. His eyes settled on the elevator, scanning its worn gears and the ancient inscriptions carved into its walls. He didn't join their verbal sparring; he was analyzing, measuring, searching for weaknesses, for signs of failure.
"The elevator was used recently," he finally declared, his low voice breaking the silence.
Brann turned slightly toward him.
"Recently…?"
Rai nodded, his fingers brushing over an unusually polished groove in the metal.
"Footprints in the dust. Fresh wear on the fastenings. Someone activated it not long ago, lubricated it, too. A few days at most."
"Which means…" Gael prompted.
"Despite the ban on descending, others came before us," Maera explained.
Gael tightened his grip on the edge of his cloak. His heart pounded, not just at the thought of descending into that unfathomable abyss, but at the company surrounding him. Maera, dangerously beautiful, her predator's smile gleaming with hunger for challenge. Rai, taciturn yet always precise. And Kaien.
Kaien, with his feigned nonchalance, a mask hiding a mind far too sharp to be comforting. Poet? Musician? Killer? Gael couldn't tell, and that uncertainty unnerved him more than he cared to admit.
But deep down, none of them truly inspired trust. Their mental balance? Fragile, perhaps already broken. Their loyalty? As shifting as shadows themselves. But wasn't that the price one had to pay to venture into these forbidden depths? Maybe, in the end, you had to be a little mad to go down there.
Brann wasted no time. Silent, resolute, he placed a firm hand on the main lever and pulled it in one sharp motion.
The cables shuddered instantly.
A deep rumble rose from below, the ground trembling beneath their feet as the lift jolted to life, its ancient gears groaning despite their recent maintenance. The vibrations spread upward, crawling along the metal beams, reverberating through their bones, as if the entire structure was holding its breath.
Then, slowly, the elevator sank into darkness.
But they had barely begun their descent when a distant sound reached their ears, a disturbance above, on the platform. Instinctively, Gael tilted his head upward.
Figures moved along the edge, silhouettes cut in sharp relief against the flickering twilight.
"Guards from the upper city," Maera noted, her eyes narrowing.
"There he is, Archon!" a voice shouted. "He's already started the descent, we missed him by seconds!"
A heavier commotion followed, accompanied by the rustle of fine fabric. Then, a head crowned by a tall top hat appeared over the railing. A monocle glinted beneath the dying light of dusk, and in the deepening shadows, his gaze locked onto Brann's.
A thin smile curved his pale lips. Then his voice rang out, low, languid, like the toll of a funeral bell.
"Fallen One." His words echoed in the air, a somber omen. "Now I know… you're in my city."
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous, amused light.
"Don't come back up… or there'll be a welcoming party waiting for you."
And as the lift sank deeper, his figure slowly faded into the mist, swallowed by the growing darkness. Behind him, other voices erupted, confused shouts, muffled curses, orders barked into the void, all swallowed by distance.
But Brann didn't move. He stood perfectly still, his features carved in stone, his gaze fixed on that exact spot where the man had stood moments before.
Gael felt a chill settle over them, a tension coiling in the air. He'd seen Brann's wanted posters before, though the image had never been very clear. Still… word of his arrival had spread.
"Problem?" Kaien Ren asked, his casual tone slicing through the silence.
Brann closed his eyes for a brief moment before answering, simply:
"Nothing serious."
Kaien stretched, resting a hand behind his head, his lips curling into a crooked, intrigued smile.
"Now things are getting interesting."
Maera let out a soft, sardonic chuckle.
"If you ask me…" she said, her gaze drilling into Brann, "there won't be any party or Lumen fireworks waiting for us when we climb out of this Rift… Just a fine row of Lutech rifles."
Rai, who had remained silent, lowered his eyes once more to the yawning darkness beneath their feet. His voice, steady and deep, fell like a blade:
"If we make it out."
A heavy silence settled over them.
Then, the darkness swallowed them whole.
A night without moon, without stars, where even the glow of their torches seemed to be consumed, smothered by the suffocating black.
The rocky walls slid past, scarred with ancient marks, runes worn away by time and tremors. A rough, oppressive shadow encircled them on all sides. Only the scrape of the lift's metal, the groaning of the cables, dared to disturb that crushing stillness.
Gael felt his breath shorten. The very air seemed heavier, thicker, laced with the scent of iron and dust. Every inhale felt like drawing in something unseen… and hostile.
He knew, in theory, the Rift was just an anomaly, a fracture in the world. But feeling that fracture pressing down on his flesh… that was something else entirely.
Beside him, Kaien Ren stretched as if waiting for nothing more than a casual afternoon tea, not a descent into hell. His expression remained laid-back, almost amused, but his eyes… no. His eyes glinted with a sharpness far too bright, far too alert.
He slid a glance toward Gael, a flicker of playful light dancing in his golden iris.
"First dive, kid?"
His tone was light, but something in his smile said he already knew the answer.
Gael clenched his fingers tighter around his coat, casting him a sidelong look, trying to hide the unease rising within by lowering his face into the shadow of his hat.
"I've seen worse."
Kaien burst out laughing, the sound ringing oddly against the stone walls.
"Ah… love that optimism."
But his laughter didn't last long.Brann hadn't even flinched. His gaze remained locked on the shifting depths far, far below.
Gael tensed. It wasn't just his imagination.
Then... A rumble.
Low. Deep. Rising from beneath, from a bottomless pit.
A heavy, bestial breath unfurled from the shadows like the exhale of a slumbering beast… or a predator stirring awake.
Every nerve in Gael's body screamed an ancestral warning, a visceral panic carved into the memory of the living since the dawn of time.
Something was down there.
Something was waiting.
Rai Tsukihara, until now motionless, slowly clenched his fists. His gaze sharpened, darkened, turned blade-like.
"Get ready."
His voice was low, but none of them needed more words.
Maera's lips curled into a predator's smile, almost feline. With a slow, precise motion, she drew her blade. The spectral torchlight slid across the steel, setting its edge aglow with a sinister gleam.
"Finally… a little action," she murmured, excitement vibrating in her throat.
Brann didn't even blink. He was already ready.
"We're approaching the first tier," he said calmly. "Stay in formation."
Gael drew a deep breath, wrestling the tremor threatening his muscles. His body wanted to run. He refused.
Instead, he tightened his grip around the hilt of his weapon, forcing the excitement and fear to meld, to condense into one single, raw, blazing thought: survive.
The lift slowed. The cables shuddered with one last jolt. Nono squeaked nervously from a pocket in Kaien's bag.
The darkness parted before them.
And there, lurking in the shadows, the creatures waited.