The moon was a pale sliver behind drifting clouds. The forest, silent. Even the wind had stopped moving, as if the whole world was holding its breath.
Kael and Riven stood at the edge of a clearing, cloaked in dark cloth and coated in a scentless mud to mask their presence. No torches. No metal clinking. Just quiet breathing and the weight of what waited below.
"This way," Riven whispered, crouching low and weaving through the underbrush. Kael followed, every footstep calculated, every motion careful.
They moved for nearly an hour, deeper into the wild forest. Strange glowing plants blinked in the dark like sleepy eyes. The trees seemed to lean in, curious or warning. Finally, they reached it—the dead tree.
It loomed tall and hollow, split down the center like a clawed hand reaching toward the stars. At its base, half-covered in moss and leaves, was the collapsed shaft—a narrow hole, reinforced long ago with rotting planks and rusted iron beams.
Riven knelt and ran her hand along the edge. "Still stable. I used this tunnel dozens of times before everything went to hell."
Without waiting, she slipped inside.
Kael hesitated, then followed.
The shaft was steep but manageable, dropping them into a narrow tunnel of stone and roots. The air grew colder, damper. The silence turned thick, like it was listening. Kael's heart beat in his ears, but he pressed on.
After a long descent, the passage opened into a wider corridor—the upper tunnels of the mine.
Kael looked around in awe. Strange markings glowed faintly on the walls, like veins of light pulsing with energy. Crystals jutted out of the rock, humming quietly. And deeper in the dark…
Something shifted. A low, distant groan echoed through the stone.
"Keep moving," Riven said, low and urgent. "This way—my base is through here."
They weaved through twisting paths, ducked under hanging roots, crossed narrow bridges of stone. No sign of the monster. No sign of the outer guardian.
But then—
A sound.
A scraping, dragging noise.
Not behind them.
Above.
Kael and Riven froze, looking up. From the shadows overhead, tucked in a hole along the ceiling of the tunnel, something crawled slowly backward, its limbs too many, its skin made of bone and smoke.
Riven's eyes went wide. "It's a scout. One of the inner one's servants."
They ducked into a side chamber and pressed against the cold wall.
Kael whispered, "What do we do if it sees us?"
Riven met his eyes. "We don't let it."