The wind hissed through the scorched canyons as dawn cracked faintly through ash-colored skies. Adrien pulled his hood lower, dust sweeping past his boots as he adjusted the sword at his side. Beside him padded Nyxaris, its black fur nearly invisible in the shifting light. Damien was gone now — and Adrien's silence had grown longer each day since.
Their new companion, however, didn't mind the quiet.
"Long road to nowhere," the demon muttered, walking ahead. His horns were hidden beneath a tattered cloth wrap, and his voice had the tired, dusty tone of someone who'd lived far too long in hiding. "You sure this is the right way? The Maw isn't on any map for a reason."
Adrien glanced sideways, his tone casual. "Well, you're the one who said it 'whispers to those who remember.' I figured we'd follow your nose, old man .Plus, it isn't to hard to gather information on a deathtrap from adventurers."
The demon snorted. "You're lucky I don't eat shadow puppies."
Nyxaris bared its fangs in a grin, tongue lolling.
They reached a crumbling stone marker half-buried in sand. It bore a single symbol — an inverted flame crossed with chains. The demon paused and narrowed his eyes.
"That's it," he said softly. "Beyond here… we're in the Maw's teeth."
Adrien stepped beside him, eyes scanning the horizon.
"Then we bite back."
He pulled his cloak tighter and started forward.
.....
The terrain twisted as they walked — gorges opened like scars, and the air grew heavy with whispers. Not real speech, but presence. A pressure behind the eyes. Nyxaris let out a low, uneasy growl.
"Feels like we're walking through someone's nightmare," Adrien muttered.
The demon nodded. "That's because you are."
Adrien rolled his eyes. "Cheery."
They passed through ruins — towers hollowed out by wind, strange symbols etched into stone in ancient runes. Some of them glowed faintly as Adrien approached, responding to the shard he carried.
"They're reacting to you," the demon said. "That's rare. This place predates empires… even the Orders."
Adrien ran his fingers across one of the glowing symbols. "Ardonis never mentioned this place in my dreams." He muttered.
"Not everything lasts." The demon said suddenly.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
A weathered hand rose and pointed. "Let's camp here."
They made camp beneath a leaning spire, once a fortress, now just bones in the dirt. Adrien sat alone by the fire as Nyxaris curled beside him, occasionally flickering into shadowform when it heard noises too distant to see.
The demon sat sharpening his blade a few feet away. "Tomorrow, we go deeper. If the stories are true, the Ashen vault lies near the Wailing Rise."
Adrien threw a stick into the fire. "And you think he's still dead?"
The demon's eyes gleamed.
"I think he's something worse."
Adrien exhaled slowly.
A pause.
That silenced the campfire for a while.
....
The group had finally arrived in the heart of the maw where a thick mist covered a large hill. A statue stood at the side covered in strange writing.
"....Only...those...touched..by..the...shadow..can.. continue..." The demon read.
"I think that's our queue." Adrien said.
Adrien stepped through the shifting mist, into a vast circular chamber lit by pulsing violet veins running along the blackstone walls. The air was still, as if sealed from time itself. Nyxaris walked beside him in silence, its paws making no sound on the stone floor.
A massive set of twin doors, engraved with spirals and claw-marked sigils, loomed ahead. In their center was a faintly glowing seal-like structure, cracked and ancient.
Adrien glanced to the side. The echoes of Damien's absence lingered in his chest. A scar too recent to speak of.
He exhaled and stepped forward.
The seal recognized his presence. The air vibrated as the markings on the door flared dimly, then began to grind open—slow, heavy, reluctant. A low hum built in the chamber, like a deep breath being held by something ancient.
Beyond the threshold, a smaller inner chamber stood, circular and bare, save for a raised dais in the center. Upon it was a strange altar of stone, bound in thick, rusted chains.
Here is the Gateway Chamber scene with Damien recorded as deceased until further notice, as requested:
...
The darkness broke at last.
Adrien stepped through the shifting mist, into a vast circular chamber lit by pulsing violet veins running along the blackstone walls. The air was still, as if sealed from time itself. Nyxaris walked beside him in silence, its paws making no sound on the stone floor.
A massive set of twin doors, engraved with spirals and claw-marked sigils, loomed ahead. In their center was a faintly glowing seal-like structure, cracked and ancient.
Adrien glanced to the side. The echoes of Damien's absence lingered in his chest. A scar too recent to speak of.
He exhaled and stepped forward.
The seal recognized his presence. The air vibrated as the markings on the door flared dimly, then began to grind open—slow, heavy, reluctant. A low hum built in the chamber, like a deep breath being held by something ancient.
Beyond the threshold, a smaller inner chamber stood, circular and bare, save for a raised dais in the center. Upon it was a strange altar of stone, bound in thick, rusted chains.
Nyxaris halted. Its voice echoed softly in Adrien's mind.
"Do you feel that? Something... waking."
Adrien approached cautiously, his fingers brushing the hilt of his blade.
From the altar, a sound.
A breath.
Then, a voice—tired, hoarse, as if crawling out of centuries.
"Another one? ...Heh. You smell of war."