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Chapter 11 - When Water Lies Still

QUICK RECAP-

 

Arthur bites through the Hollow's sedation, tearing his arm free to wake Ruby.

Her Light Engine has adapted—stronger but corrupted, veins of black now threading her glyph.

She revives Adam with a jolt of unstable Ether, his Hydro-Volt flickering between water and tar.

Together, they flee Bexam's chamber as the cave itself twists against them.

Ruby's healing leaves Arthur's arm mangled but functional, while Adam's powers falter under the Hollow's influence.

Behind them, Bexam's laughter echoes: "Run. This is more fun." The trio races deeper, unaware their escape is just another layer of his game.

 

-RECAP ENDS

 

The cave ahead narrowed, then split.

 Two walls of dripping stone veined with glowing threads of algae folded in on the trio, swallowing their escape route into a swamp-lined trench of pale fog and steaming water.

Adam stood at the helm, Hydro-Volt surfboard humming beneath his boots.

Thin spirals of water laced his glyph, gently pulling backward for friction and precision.

With one tap of his heel, the board twisted left, ducking under a jagged slope of hanging roots. His glyph hissed with energy.

Ruby knelt, arms outstretched behind Arthur like wings of shielding light.

 Her cast wasn't offensive—it was stabilizing.

 Threads of Ether wrapped around their shoulders and legs to tether them together as they rode the watery tunnel.

Arthur crouched low, sword sheathed but ready, his forearm tightly bandaged.

His left arm remained stiff, partially numb despite Ruby's earlier casting.

The pain was constant, but it no longer slowed him.

 His gaze scanned everything—the walls, the shapes in the mist, the uneasy movements in the water beneath their board.

They had escaped the dome.

They had broken their bindings.

But the Hollow refused to call that victory.

The swamp began whispering.

Not with voices.

With shapes.

First, slithers in the stone—shadows that moved against the grain of light. Then ripples beneath the surface—thick, lazy movements just below visibility.

Arthur frowned.

"We're in feeding territory."

Ruby shifted her posture, eyes scanning the air above them.

Adam whispered, "I feel pressure. Something's pulling the water sideways."

Then the surfboard buckled.

Not with impact—but resistance.

A tentacle of sludge curled around the back left surge, dragging it downward.

Arthur unsheathed his blade mid-motion, twisting sideways with a clean arc. The metal met resistance—then burst through. The tentacle snapped, melting back into thick, slow-moving filth.

The surfboard spun gently, recovering its balance.

Adam didn't slow down.

He cast forward, widening the water stream beneath them.

Next came the mirror-moss.

A sheet of reflective spores hung across the tunnel's ceiling—glistening like glass.

But it wasn't reflective.

It was observant.

Ruby cast a light burst upward.

The moss reacted instantly, shriveling away in radial circles—like a lens blinking.

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"I think the Hollow studies us through the terrain."

Ruby frowned.

"You think the walls—"

"Are part of Bexam's reach," Arthur finished.

Adam didn't speak.

He simply pushed faster.

The tunnel began to curve.

Not gently.

It turned like a ribcage curling around something sacred.

Every fifty meters, a new slope.

A new tunnel mouth.

A new echo.

Arthur began to feel dizzy—disoriented by the unnatural geometry.

Ruby cast soft lines of guidance—a spiral glyph overlaid onto the path so they could stay centered.

Her fingers trembled.

Adam's glyph flickered.

But he pressed forward.

Another ambush emerged.

This one from beneath.

Five humanoid shapes clawed upward from the swamp—skin pale, eyes milky, teeth twisted.

They weren't attacking.

They were watching.

Arthur gripped his blade but didn't swing.

Ruby paused her casting.

Adam slowed the board.

One of the shapes pointed—toward the trio.

Then toward the tunnel ahead.

Then melted into the swamp like it had never existed.

Silence.

Arthur whispered.

"This place has memory."

Ruby nodded.

"But not ours."

Adam cast lightly forward.

The board surged again.

Minutes passed.

Stone turned to algae.

Algae turned to bone—literal fragments embedded into the walls in concentric rings.

Hands. Ribs. Jawbones.

Arthur stared as they passed.

"They built this place using… specimens."

Ruby didn't respond.

Adam shifted his footwork.

Ahead—light.

Not cast light.

Environmental light.

The tunnel spit them out.

Not gently.

Like a creature exhaling a breath it didn't want.

They rolled forward into a basin—vast, circular, hollow.

A swamp larger than any chamber they had seen.

Ten meters deep.

Hundreds wide.

Its center? A dome of pitch-black water, still and silent.

Algae fanned outward from the edges like veins fleeing a heart.

Fog drifted upward into an unseen ceiling.

Arthur stood slowly.

Adam lowered the surfboard.

Ruby unwrapped the Light tethers.

They landed on cold stone—slick, cracked, and humming softly.

Arthur exhaled.

"What is this place?"

Adam knelt.

Hydro coiled around his palms.

Ruby stood still, her glyph refracting faint echoes from the center dome.

Adam spoke.

"It's not natural."

Arthur stepped forward.

He felt the floor vibrate—not strongly, but rhythmically.

Ruby leaned toward the edge.

Adam pointed at the dome.

"That pond. It's not just stagnant water."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

Adam cast thin Hydro filaments outward—dozens of them, shooting across the swamp in spiraling paths.

The water accepted them.

Not like terrain.

Like skin.

The filaments danced.

Swirled.

Returned.

Adam's glyph flickered.

Then surged.

He blinked twice.

Arthur stepped closer.

Adam whispered.

"It's connected."

Arthur didn't speak.

Adam continued.

"The flow isn't still. It's fed from elsewhere."

Ruby's glyph dimmed slightly.

She murmured.

"Vispen…"

Adam nodded.

"This is his pond. This swamp—it's an outflow system."

Arthur frowned.

"You're sure?"

"I felt it back in that pond. That pressure."

"This is the same. But amplified."

"The Hollow redirected the current—his current."

Ruby stared across the water.

"It's like walking through his lungs."

Arthur turned slowly.

"This whole cave has been mapped around him."

Adam tapped the stone beneath them.

"His heartbeat is faint, but there."

Arthur gripped his sword tighter.

Not in threat.

In respect.

Then the swamp changed.

Subtle.

A ripple across the black pond.

Then another.

Then silence.

Ruby cast defensive Light forward.

Nothing returned.

Adam retracted his filaments.

Arthur blinked.

Then his breath stilled.

Behind them—

fog parted.

Bexam stepped through.

He didn't charge.

He didn't scream.

He strolled.

Like a violin note stretched across a decade.

His stitched face tilted slightly, shoulder crackling with fresh alignment. The razor-finger on his left hand twitched—not in aggression, but satisfaction.

Arthur turned slowly.

Ruby flared her glyph.

Arthur didn't move when Bexam stepped into the basin.

Ruby raised a dome of soft Light, glimmering along the pond's edge in quiet warning. Adam stood just off-center, palms half-laced with Hydro strands as if unsure whether he would surf again or fight.

Bexam grinned.

But it wasn't wide.

It was slow.

Deliberate.

His stitched cheeks pulled taut—old flesh mimicking joy without containing any.

"You ran far," he repeated, walking along the swamp edge like a curator inspecting survivors of a long exhibit.

Arthur's sword hung at his side. Not raised. But not resting.

Ruby's glyph pulsed once, sending a flicker of echo-light through the stone floor.

Adam didn't speak.

Bexam tilted his head.

"No greeting?" he asked. "You break chains. You defy mist. You stitch yourselves back together. And still"—he paused—"no hello?"

Arthur took one step forward.

His throat burned.

"You want words," he said.

Bexam chuckled.

"No. I want to stop pretending you matter."

The glyphs along Bexam's spine ignited.

A low hum filled the swamp.

It wasn't sound.

It was possession.

The swamp trembled.

Small tendrils reached from the water, not to grab—but to observe.

Ruby cast a flare of Light across the air.

Bexam dissolved it mid-flight with a twist of his left hand. It didn't explode.

It unraveled.

Arthur lunged forward, blade slicing sideways—not toward Bexam, but toward the nearest tendril. The strike cut cleanly, but the swamp didn't scream.

It absorbed.

Adam cast a Hydro burst at the water's surface, rippling the dome—trying to fracture its stillness.

It responded by mimicking the cast back at him in soft ripples, taunting his technique.

"You fight better now," Bexam noted, voice heavy with false praise.

Ruby repositioned.

Adam adjusted glyph flow.

Arthur stood his ground.

"But you're still dying slower," Bexam finished.

His stitched hand raised.

The swamp surged behind him—not violently, but like a body rising from sleep. The pond flared once, and a hiss escaped from beneath.

Ruby's glyph cracked once.

Adam cast a spiral shield across their feet.

Arthur stepped sideways.

Then said:

"Enough."

Bexam blinked.

Arthur pointed toward the pond.

"You think this swamp is yours?"

Bexam smirked.

Arthur gestured at Adam.

Adam nodded.

Then cast.

Hydro exploded from both palms.

Not forward.

Not up.

Right.

Toward the pond.

A clean, spiraling blast of pressurized water zipped past Bexam—not aimed at him, but parallel to his silhouette.

The monster turned slowly, watching the blast tear across the basin.

He frowned.

Then laughed.

"You're not even aiming at me."

Bexam's stitched eyes glimmered.

"You've lost track of your target."

He took two steps toward Adam.

"You're scared."

Adam didn't answer.

The pond rippled.

Bexam gestured again.

The swamp sent two tendrils outward—one toward Ruby, one toward Arthur.

Ruby raised a light wall.

Arthur cut downward.

Both held.

For now.

Bexam watched the pond.

Still mocking.

Until—

Adam whispered.

"This shot…"

He stepped forward.

His voice sharpened.

"Is what you'll remember."

Silence.

The swamp paused.

The pond rippled once.

Then twice.

Then—

Surged.

The earth cracked beneath their feet.

Not violently.

Precisely.

The pond hissed—then boiled, sending jets of thick black water upward, spinning like reversed whirlpools. Bexam staggered. His glyph flared violently.

Arthur took one step back.

Ruby gasped.

Adam raised one palm and cast a second surge—

Toward the pond again.

It landed.

Hydro folded into the heart of the swamp.

Then—

It awoke.

The water didn't scream.

It breathed.

A low roar surged from below—not echoing off the walls, but vibrating through them.

The swamp spasmed.

The bones beneath their feet cracked in delicate patterns.

Bexam's stitched jaw clenched.

He turned—not toward the trio, but toward the pond.

And whispered:

"No…"

The swamp geysered once—black liquid clawing upward like rage denied for centuries.

Ruby's Light flared across her arms, her glyph casting defensive walls as shockwaves rebounded through the basin.

Arthur crouched, blade bracing against the stone.

Adam didn't flinch.

He watched the water.

And waited.

Bexam screamed.

Not in pain.

In disbelief.

His voice cracked the fog around them.

"No—it can't be!"

The water shrieked upward.

A shape began to move beneath the pond.

Heavy.

Familiar.

Uninvited.

**"When Water Lies Still,

Memory Breaks Open"**

 

END OF CHAPTER 11

 

-To Be Continued-

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