Tomb

The ship broke through the atmosphere of the next world, and Tanuki immediately felt a chill crawl across his skin. The planet below was a patchwork of endless fields, golden stalks of grain swaying in a wind that seemed too deliberate, too alive. From orbit it had looked idyllic, but as they descended, the fields stretched on in unnatural symmetry, every row too straight, every stalk too uniform. The landing bay touched down on the edge of a field, the soil black and dry, the air heavy with the scent of straw and smoke.

Atlas stepped out first, his hammer slung across his back. “This place feels wrong,” he muttered, scanning the horizon. NV followed, her gauntlet glowing faintly as she flexed her fingers. “Wrong? It’s a nightmare farm. I’m half expecting something with a pitchfork to come charging at us.”

Tanuki crouched, running his hand through the soil. It was brittle, almost ash-like. He stood, his eyes narrowing as he spotted figures in the distance, tall, thin silhouettes standing motionless among the stalks. At first they looked like ordinary scarecrows, their bodies made of straw, their heads burlap sacks stitched with crude smiles. But then one of them tilted its head, the stitched grin twisting unnaturally, and the others followed, their heads turning in perfect unison.

“They’re watching us,” Tanuki said quietly.

The scarecrows began to move, their limbs creaking as straw shifted beneath their tattered clothes. They stepped out of the fields, their bodies jerking in stiff, unnatural motions, yet their speed was unnerving. The sound of straw scraping against itself filled the air, a chorus of dry whispers.

Atlas swung his hammer as the first one lunged, its arms stretching farther than they should have, straw spilling from the seams. The impact shattered its torso, but the pieces writhed, pulling themselves back together. NV struck another, her gauntlet glowing as she punched through its chest, only for the straw to coil around her arm, trying to drag her down.

Tanuki drew a Tarot, his daggers shimmering into sickles that mirrored the scarecrows’ curved limbs. He slashed through one, the blade catching on the burlap head. The scarecrow shrieked, a sound like tearing fabric, before collapsing into a heap of straw that twitched violently before going still.

“They don’t die easy,” Atlas grunted, swinging again.

“They’re not supposed to die at all,” NV snapped, yanking her arm free. “They’re constructs. Someone made them.”

The scarecrows pressed closer, their numbers growing as more emerged from the fields. Tanuki discarded a card for mana, drawing another that glowed with Celeste’s faint signature. His daggers flared with pale light, and when he struck, the scarecrow’s body ignited, the straw burning to ash that didn’t reform.

The others froze for a moment, their stitched smiles twitching as if in fear. Then, as if responding to some unseen command, they retreated back into the fields, their bodies vanishing into the golden stalks. The silence that followed was heavier than before, the fields swaying as though whispering secrets.

Tanuki stood breathing hard, his daggers still glowing faintly. “They weren’t just hostile. They were… coordinated.”

Atlas nodded grimly. “Something’s controlling them. And if it can control straw, it can control a lot more.”

NV brushed straw from her cloak, her expression sharp. “I don’t like this. Not one bit.”

Tanuki turned toward the horizon, where the fields stretched endlessly, the scarecrows hidden but watching. He felt the weight of unseen eyes pressing down on him, and for the first time, he wondered if this planet was less about resources and more about a warning.

And then, faintly, he heard a voice in his HUD. Celeste’s. Be careful. This world doesn’t just guard its secrets, it consumes those who try to take them.

Her words lingered as the wind swept through the fields, the stitched smiles of the scarecrows flickering in his mind long after they were gone.

The fields stretched endlessly, the golden stalks whispering in the wind as though mocking the intruders. Tanuki, Atlas, and NV pressed deeper, their boots crunching on the brittle soil. The scarecrows had retreated, but the silence they left behind was worse than the fight itself. Every row of crops looked identical, every horizon the same, and Tanuki felt the disorienting sense that the planet itself was trying to swallow them in repetition.

Atlas stopped suddenly, raising a hand. “Look.” Ahead, the stalks parted into a clearing where dozens of scarecrows stood in a perfect circle. Their burlap faces were stitched with crude smiles, but their heads were tilted at odd angles, as if listening to something only they could hear. In the center of the circle was a wooden post, taller than the rest, wrapped in chains that glowed faintly with runes.

NV narrowed her eyes. “That’s not decoration. That’s a seal.”

As they stepped closer, the scarecrows’ heads snapped toward them in unison. The stitched smiles seemed to widen, the seams stretching unnaturally. Without a sound, they began to move, their limbs jerking in stiff, puppet-like motions. But this time, they didn’t attack. Instead, they shifted aside, opening a path toward the chained post.

Tanuki’s grip tightened on his daggers. “They want us to go there.”

Atlas frowned. “Or they want us to break whatever’s inside.”

The three of them advanced cautiously. The air grew heavier, the whispers of straw louder, until they reached the post. The runes pulsed faintly, and Tanuki felt a pressure in his chest, as though the planet itself was holding its breath. He reached out, his fingers brushing the chains, and his HUD flickered violently. For a moment, he saw something—an image of a vast figure made of straw and shadow, its stitched grin stretching across the sky. Then it was gone.

“Boss fight,” NV muttered. “Guaranteed.”

Before Tanuki could respond, the chains snapped, one by one, the runes shattering into sparks. The ground trembled, and the scarecrows collapsed into heaps of straw, their purpose fulfilled. From the soil beneath the post, something began to rise.

It was massive, its body a writhing mass of straw bound together by black twine, its head a burlap sack stitched with dozens of grins that shifted and twisted. Its arms were long and jagged, ending in claws of sharpened wood. The air filled with the sound of rustling straw, deafening and endless.

Atlas swung his hammer, striking the creature’s leg, but the straw absorbed the blow, reforming instantly. NV darted in, her gauntlet glowing as she struck at the seams, but the stitches only multiplied, spreading across its body like veins. Tanuki drew a Tarot, his daggers transforming into scythes that mirrored the creature’s claws. He slashed, the blades cutting deep, but the straw writhed and reformed, the grins on its face twisting into laughter.

The creature swung its arm, sending Atlas crashing into the stalks. NV barely dodged, rolling across the soil. Tanuki stood his ground, discarding a card for mana and drawing another. This one glowed faintly with Celeste’s signature, though she was nowhere to be seen. His daggers flared with pale fire, and when he struck, the straw ignited, burning black as the creature shrieked.

The flames spread, consuming the stitches, unraveling the grins. The creature thrashed, its body collapsing into ash, until at last it fell silent. The fields around them stilled, the whispers fading into nothing.

Atlas staggered back into the clearing, his armor scorched. “That… was not worth the loot.”

NV kicked at a pile of ash, her expression sharp. “This wasn’t about loot. That thing was a guardian. Someone, or something, put it here to keep people out.”

Tanuki bent down, picking up a fragment of black twine that hadn’t burned. His HUD identified it as Thread of Dominion. The description read: A fragment of control, severed from its master. Dangerous if misused.

He slipped it into his inventory, his chest tight. Celeste’s voice echoed faintly in his mind, though she hadn’t appeared this time. This world doesn’t just guard its secrets, it consumes those who try to take them.

As they returned to the ship, the fields stretched endlessly behind them, the scarecrows gone but their stitched smiles lingering in Tanuki’s thoughts. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they hadn’t defeated the planet’s guardian so much as released it.