Volume 3 - Chapter 25: The Last Light in the Cavern

The group continued to follow the masked man through the twisting tunnels, their hurried footsteps echoing through the dark as abominations snarled somewhere behind them. The air grew heavy with the scent of damp earth and something fouler still—the stench of rot carried on the cold breath of the underground. Their torchlight flickered wildly against the slick, uneven walls, throwing distorted shadows that made the tunnels feel alive.They took turn after turn, diving through narrow offshoots and winding paths in a desperate attempt to lose their pursuers. The rhythmic pounding of claws against stone grew louder with every passing second, scraping and thudding in a grotesque chorus that spurred them onward. No one dared to speak, the tension choking the air thicker than the dust they kicked up.Then—one of the children stumbled. Her small cry pierced the tunnel’s silence. The masked man began to turn back, his cloak fluttering as he reached for her, but Ash’s voice cut through the noise. “I got it!” he shouted, his tone edged with urgency. He scooped the little girl up into his arms without breaking stride, the child clinging to his coat as he sprinted after the others.Moments later, the path ended abruptly at a wall of jagged stone. Kris’s voice broke the brief silence. “Where do we go now? We’re stuck in a corner!” she exclaimed, panic seeping into her tone as the distant growls grew nearer.The masked man stepped forward, scanning the rock face. “Down here,” he said calmly, pointing to a small, half-hidden opening near the base of the wall. The group stared in disbelief until one of the younger children dropped to her knees and crawled into the dark hole without hesitation. Ash set the girl he carried onto the ground, giving her a reassuring nod before she followed.Behind them, the abominations turned the corner—their twisted silhouettes emerging from the shadows. Their bodies were a patchwork of flesh and bone, slick with black ooze that dripped onto the floor. Their breathing was a chorus of snarls and gurgles.Ash’s voice rose, steady but firm. “We don’t have time—everyone, inside! Now!” They dove for the opening one by one, pressing their bodies against the cold, damp earth as they crawled through the narrow passage. The stone scraped at their hands and knees, the air thinning until it felt like they were suffocating. Behind them, the guttural roars of the abominations grew louder, followed by the heavy thud of claws striking rock.Then—silence.One by one, they crawled out into a wide underground chamber. The ceiling arched high above them, covered in pale mineral veins that glimmered faintly with residual light from their light and fire shard's. Water dripped steadily from somewhere unseen, the soft echoes creating a strange, rhythmic calm after the chaos.Ash turned, waiting at the opening until the last person slipped through. The masked man followed moments later and straightened, brushing dust from his clothes“ There are no other ways in,” he said, his voice low and measured behind the mask. “We’ll be safe here. We just need to wait out the abominations.”His words hung in the air as the group gathered close, their ragged breaths slowly evening out while, somewhere beyond the walls, the faint scratching of claws reminded them that safety was only temporary.Once Ash caught his breath, he glanced around the cavern. The dim light from their shard's cast long, wavering shadows across the faces of those gathered. There were far more people here than he’d realized—dozens of them, maybe more. Most were children, huddled together under torn blankets or resting against the stone walls. A few adults lingered nearby, their faces gaunt and hollow, eyes sunken deep into their skulls. Their clothes hung loose on their frail bodies, and their skin was pale and dry, cracked from dehydration.Ash’s chest tightened at the sight. They look… they look half-dead. The smell of unwashed bodies, blood, and stale air clung to everything, mixing with the faint metallic tang of the rocks. The only sounds were the soft breaths and distant dripping water.He turned to the masked man. “Are these the missing villagers?”The masked man’s head inclined slightly. “Yes,” he said quietly. “What’s left of them. We only managed to survive this long by hiding inside the corpses of the mutants… then finding this place to hole up.” His tone carried no pride, only exhaustion.Ash’s eyes widened slightly. The thought made his stomach twist. “Hiding… inside them?” he repeated under his breath.The masked man didn’t flinch. “It was the only way to keep the abominations from finding us.”Kris looked around, frowning. “But how are you surviving now? I don’t see any food anywhere.”For the first time, the masked man’s shoulders seemed to sink. He looked down at the ground, the shadow of his hood deepening. His voice came out quieter, almost hesitant. “The ones who don’t make it…” he began slowly, “are… dismantled. We feed what we can to the children and those closest to death—to keep them alive.”The words hung heavy between them, like the air had turned to lead. Karna glared, her jaw tightening. The masked man met her gaze briefly and added, voice low and firm, “Don’t tell anyone. They wouldn’t understand.”Karna said nothing, but the flicker of shard light reflected in her eyes showed the storm of emotion rising behind them.The masked man shifted his stance slightly, as if trying to ease the tension in the air. “By the way,” he said at last, his tone softening just a bit, “my name is Zegrim. I’m one of the leaders of the survivors here.” The faint light glinted off the surface of his mask, concealing his features entirely, though his posture remained sharp but weary. “I’ve been going in and out of this cave, searching for anyone still alive. Most of the ones I’ve found were hiding inside the corpses of the mutants. That’s where I found these two children… before I saw you.”He let out a tired breath, the sound echoing faintly. “After we escaped the abominations, we all dove into those corpses. I stayed still for hours, waiting for them to lose interest. When they finally moved on, I crept through the tunnels, and that’s when I found this chamber. Ever since, I’ve been escorting survivors here… a few at a time.”Ash crossed his arms, still watching him carefully. “What about just escaping altogether?”Zegrim shook his head, his voice grim. “The entrance is too heavily guarded. If you came in here, you must’ve noticed—for some reason, the abominations are acting like guards. They just… stand there, outside the cave. Not wandering, not hunting. Like they’re waiting. Like they’re taking orders.”Ash frowned, uneasy. “Orders… from who?”Zegrim’s gaze drifted toward the cavern wall, his tone low. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. But whatever’s controlling them… it’s keeping us trapped. I’ve searched every tunnel I can find, every crevice in this damned cave, but there’s no other exit. At least, not yet.”The faint dripping of water punctuated his words, the sound carrying through the stillness like a slow heartbeat. The hopelessness in Zegrim’s tone settled over the survivors like a shroud.Suddenly, a middle-aged man stepped out from the shadows at the far end of the chamber and approached Zegrim and Ash. His movements were steady but cautious, every step deliberate. The shard light caught his features—long, steel-blue hair that brushed his jawline, a neatly trimmed goatee, and crimson eyes that carried both exhaustion and sharp focus. His clothing was practical yet reinforced: a fitted blue shirt with yellow-lined armor plates at the shoulders, a gray scarf draped loosely around his neck, and black tactical pants secured with belts and small energy modules. Well-worn brown boots whispered against the stone as he drew closer.In his right hand, he held a hammer unlike any standard weapon—its head thick and metallic, the core faintly glowing with residual heat like an ember waiting to ignite. Though the cave was safe for now, his grip on the weapon remained firm, prepared for any sudden danger.He stopped beside Zegrim, giving Ash a short, appraising nod before speaking.Wade gazed at the gathered group for a long moment, his crimson eyes shifting from one weary face to another. The soft orange light of the shards flickered over his features, deepening the tired lines beneath his eyes. Finally, he spoke, his tone low but steady. “So… where did you all come from?”Ash straightened, brushing the dust from his cloak before answering. “We were sent here by Garm,” he said. “They wanted us to confirm if there were any survivors left. If there were, we were supposed to help get you back to town.” He paused, his gaze dropping for a moment as he exhaled. “Though we lost most of our supplies on the way here, I’ll still do what I can to get you all out—if we can make it through the entrance or find another way.”Wade’s expression softened slightly at that, though the grimness in his eyes never left. “I see,” he murmured. He looked around at the gaunt figures huddled together in the dimness. “Then let’s hope we find that exit soon… because we’re not all going to last much longer down here.” His voice grew quieter, almost to a whisper. “Unless another one passes. And even then—” he hesitated, his grip tightening on the hammer at his side, “—even if we find a way out, there’s no guarantee any of us will make it.”Wade exhaled slowly, his tone softening as he studied the exhausted group. “Well… it looks like you’ve all been through hell just to get here,” he said quietly. “Go ahead and take a rest. We’ll talk more once you’ve caught your breath.”He stepped aside, motioning toward the deeper part of the cavern where faint blue mineral light shimmered along the walls. The air there was a little cooler, the ground smoother and dry enough to sit. Wade gave Ash a brief nod as he moved out of the way, allowing the weary survivors to shuffle farther in. The sound of tired footsteps and soft murmurs echoed through the cavern as the group settled into the shadows, grateful for even a fragile moment of calm.As the group moved deeper into the cavern, the dim blue mineral glow revealed more than they expected. Huddled against the walls were clusters of children—thin, trembling, their limbs frail and their eyes dull with exhaustion. Some clutched each other for warmth, others simply stared blankly ahead, too weak to react to the newcomers.Farther in, a handful of women sat together, whispering softly as they tried to comfort the youngest among them. A few guards—armor cracked, weapons battered—kept watch with hollow expressions. Scattered villagers lay on worn blankets or leaned against the stone, the last remnants of the survivors. The air was thick with despair, but also with the faint, stubborn flicker of survival.Ash and the others continued toward the back of the pocket chamber—until the foul stench hit them. It was overpowering, a nauseating wall of rot and decay that clung to their throats. There, piled in the shadows, were the remains of villagers who hadn’t survived long enough to be rescued. Picked apart, dismantled… reduced to the only source of sustenance the survivors could find.Karna’s face went pale. “Oh gods…” she choked out, covering her mouth as she turned sharply away. She hurried back toward the children, forcing herself to breathe through the queasiness as she knelt to speak gently with them instead. Anything to get away from the sight.Ash exhaled a long, slow breath, the weight of the situation settling heavily in his chest. “I guess we’ll just… take a break,” he said quietly to the others. “Rest up. Then we’ll figure out what to do next. We’ve got to find a way to get all these kids out of here somehow.”They split up—some finding places to sit, others checking on the survivors. Ash lowered himself against a section of smooth stone, stretching out his aching legs. As he leaned back, he listened to the distant echoes reverberating through the tunnels: the vicious clashes of corpse eaters writhing in the depths, the thunderous impacts of corrupted giants battling somewhere far beyond their safe pocket of rock.Those sounds served as a grim reminder—they were trapped in a living battlefield, and every moment of silence was borrowed time.After some time passed and the echoes of distant fighting faded to a low rumble, Ash pushed himself off the cold stone floor. His legs ached, but he ignored the stiffness as he began to walk around the cavern, needing to see how everyone was holding up.As he rounded a bend in the wall, the soft murmur of voices led him to a small cluster of children. Karna and Kris were with them, kneeling beside the weakest ones, doing their best to lift their spirits. The shard light shimmered across Karna’s gentle smile, her earlier unease now replaced by the determination she always carried when people needed her.One of the small boys, his cheeks sunken and his voice barely more than a whisper, tugged at Karna’s sleeve. “Miss… are we going to get home safely? I’m… I’m so hungry…”Karna’s expression softened. She reached out and brushed a hand gently across the child’s messy hair. “That’s why we’re here,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. “We were sent by the Guild to help all of you. We’re going to do our best to make sure every single one of you makes it back to Evergreen City in one piece.”She glanced toward the tunnel entrance, listening for a moment before returning her attention to the children. “We just need to rest for a bit, recover some strength… and then find a safe way out of here. But I promise—we’re not giving up on you.”“R-Really…?” the child asked, his tired eyes widening with a fragile spark of hope.Before Karna could answer, Kris stepped forward, kneeling with them. Her expression was steady, calm—exactly what the children needed. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Don’t worry. We will find a way. We just have to wait a little longer. It’s too dangerous to move right now with all the fighting going on outside.”The children nodded slowly, some leaning into Karna’s side for comfort. Ash watched from a short distance, the scene tightening something in his chest. Despite everything—despite the darkness, the monsters, the hopelessness—Karna and Kris were giving these children something precious.Hope.From the corner of his eye, Ash noticed something shift in the shadows near the far wall. When he turned, he saw Xanathis leaning back against the stone, arms crossed tightly, her posture rigid and unmoving. Her gaze was locked onto the masked man seated near the entrance of the cavern—the ones who had guided them through the chaos. But her expression wasn’t neutral. It wasn’t even guarded.It was a death glare.Her eyes, sharp and predatory, tracked every small movement the masked man made. The faint blue glow from the minerals overhead reflected off her irises, making them seem colder than usual—focused, calculating, unsettled.Ash felt a prickle run down his spine. Xanathis never stared like that without reason. Her instincts were frighteningly sharp—animalistic at times, honed by whatever strange and brutal experiences shaped her before joining their group. If something had her on edge, it wasn’t something to ignore.Ash walked toward her, his footsteps quiet but deliberate. As he approached, he kept his voice low so as not to disturb the children nearby.“Xanathis,” he murmured, stopping beside her. “You’re staring holes into him. What’s going on?”She didn’t answer immediately. Her jaw flexed slightly, a faint tremor running through her posture, her fingers tightening slightly at her sides. Clearly, something about those masked man was bothering her—and Ash wanted to know what her instincts were telling her.Xanathis kept her eyes locked on the masked man—Zegrim. Her voice dropped to a low, tense whisper as Ash waited for her answer.“When we first arrived, he referred to himself as Zegrim,” she murmured, her gaze never wavering. “But every villager here calls him Keith for some reason. And there’s something about him… something I can’t put my finger on. My instincts are screaming at me.”She inhaled sharply, then exhaled in clear frustration. “I wish there wasn’t so much decay and corruption in the air. If it weren’t so thick, I could use my nose properly. But even without it… just from watching him—how he moves, how he reacts—something’s wrong. We need to be wary of him until we figure out why.”Ash crossed his arms, frowning slightly as he processed her words. That is strange, he thought. Why would he introduce himself with a different name than what everyone else calls him? Something didn’t line up, and he knew enough about Xanathis to trust her instincts.“I’ll follow your intuition,” Ash said quietly. “I trust your judgment in most things.”They stood together for a while, silently watching Zegrim—interact with the children and the other survivors. At first, he seemed perfectly normal, moving among the villagers with calm, practiced motions. But then… every so often… something shifted.His steps would momentarily stutter, like his muscles forgot what they were doing. His posture would stiffen for half a second, then snap back into place. Or his head would jerk in a direction too sharply—too unnaturally—to be human.Ash narrowed his eyes. Yes… something is definitely off.As he and Xanathis watched, a presence approached from beside them. The faint scuff of boots echoed softly before Wade stepped into view, his crimson eyes flicking between Ash, Xanathis, and then Zegrim.He had clearly noticed their scrutiny—and the tension surrounding it.Wade studied their expressions carefully before finally asking, “Do you guys have a problem with Keith?” His tone wasn’t confrontational—just wary, and a little tired.Ash exchanged a quick glance with Xanathis before answering. “Yes,” he said plainly. “Something is off about him. When he introduced himself to us, he called himself Zagram. And… his movements. Something about the way he carries himself doesn’t add up.”Wade huffed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… he does that every once in a while,” he admitted. “But he’s trustworthy. More than you think.”Ash raised an eyebrow. Xanathis didn’t look convinced.Wade continued, nodding toward the man in question. “He’s not only the school teacher for all the children here—he’s the one who saved us. When those things trapped us in the cave and locked us up, he somehow snuck past them. Got their attention. Led them away. That bought us enough time to run to the main chamber and hide in the corpse piles.”He swallowed, his voice lowering. “When the abomination hit him… damaged him… messed up his eye… we all thought he was dead. But he got back up. Fought them off. Survived. After that, he was the one who found this place and started escorting survivors here, a few at a time. So… you shouldn’t have to worry too much about him.”Xanathis narrowed her eyes slightly. “I see… but I’m still going to keep an eye on him.”Wade rolled his shoulders with a tired shrug. “Well… whatever.”Wade let out a short, dismissive breath. “Just do whatever you want to do,” he muttered, clearly too exhausted to argue further.Ash was about to respond, Xanathis shifting slightly beside him, when the stone beneath their feet trembled. A faint vibration at first—then a violent shudder that rippled through the cavern walls.The children gasped. Shards flickered. Dust rained down from the ceiling.Then the sound came.A piercing chorus of screeches tore through the cavern as several corpse eaters burst into the pocket chamber, their elongated, plated bodies dragging across the stone. Their humanoid torsos, protruding grotesquely from the worm-like mouths, were shredded by fresh wounds—deep gashes, torn skin, broken plating. Black blood dripped in thick streams, sizzling where it struck the ground.They were injured. Desperate. And starving.The moment they spotted the villagers, their screams sharpened into a frenzy. A handful of the corpse eaters immediately bolted toward the far pile of dismantled bodies, hurling themselves into the remains and tearing at the scraps with rapid, jerking movements. Bones cracked. Flesh tore. The sound echoed hideously through the chamber.“Shit,” Wade hissed, eyes widening as he reached for his hammer. “What are they doing here?”Ash stepped forward, already pulling his weapon free. “When we arrived, they were fighting other corpse eaters deeper in the tunnels,” he said grimly. “These must be the ones that lost. And it looks like hunger’s pushed them into a frenzy.”That was all it took.The survivors scrambled, reaching for whatever weapons they had—rusted blades, makeshift spears, broken rods with crystal anchors, anything that could be used to defend themselves. The air filled with the sounds of weapons being drawn and boots scraping against stone.While some corpse eaters frantically devoured what scraps remained of the corpses, the ones who hadn’t reached the pile turned slowly… then hungrily… toward the survivors.Their plated bodies undulated with horrible precision as their humanoid torsos twisted unnaturally, mouths opening into wet, gurgling snarls.Ash, Wade, Xanathis, Karna, Kris—and every adult still capable of standing—formed a loose barrier in front of the children and weakened villagers.Weapons raised.Breaths held.Eyes locked on the ravenous corpse eaters as they began their approach.