Sorrin's eyes fluttered open to a world of shifting light and muted sound. At first, everything was a haze, as though he were peering through a veil of smoke. His limbs felt heavy, and a dull ache throbbed in the back of his skull. The muffled rush in his ears soon sharpened into the unmistakable sound of water, and he realised with growing dread that he was sinking.
The cold pressed in on him from all sides, thick and unforgiving. His vision cleared enough to see the greenish light filtering down through the water above. Tiny strands of plant-like growth floated in the currents, brushing against his face as he drifted deeper. His chest burned as his lungs screamed for air. The weight of his coat and gear dragged him further, and he could feel the cold working its way into his bones.
Shapes moved at the edge of his sight. At first, he thought they were tricks of the water, refracting light and shadow, but then one of them drew closer. A dark silhouette with limbs that moved purposefully. It blurred and swayed, distorted by the water, yet there was something familiar in the way it reached for him.
Renn...?
A hand seized his arm, firm and unyielding. The figure's face came into focus for the briefest second before the light shifted again, but Sorrin knew the shape of those sharp features. Even underwater, the man's grip was steady, pulling him upward with a strength Sorrin could barely match even on his best days.
The surface exploded around them as they broke through. Sorrin gasped for air, coughing and choking as Renn dragged him toward a stretch of jagged stone that rose out of the water. The wet rock scraped against his palms as he scrambled up, lungs heaving. When he finally rolled onto his back, the cavern ceiling loomed above. It felt impossibly high, draped in long stalactites that glittered faintly in the dim light.
"You're heavier than you look," Renn muttered, wringing water from his sleeve.
"Could've… let me drown… would've been easier," Sorrin managed between breaths.
"Tempting," Renn replied dryly, though his smirk gave him away. "Come on, we need to move."
They took a moment to gather themselves before looking around. The cave was massive, stretching far in every direction, its walls shimmering with patches of mineral deposits that reflected what little light there was. Pools of water dotted the uneven ground, fed by trickles that ran from the walls and ceiling. The air was damp and heavy, filled with the distant echo of dripping water.
Sorrin stood, shaking the worst of the water from his clothes. "Where are we? This doesn't feel like the first or second layer."
Renn's gaze moved slowly over the cavern. "It isn't. I think we're at the bottom. The third."
"That's… bad, isn't it?"
"Considering our target relic was supposed to be on the second layer, yes. But we might as well see if there's anything down here worth the trouble."
They began to explore, their footsteps echoing strangely in the vast space. Paths wound between towering stone pillars, some so wide they resembled castle towers.
It was during one of these winding turns that they stumbled upon something strange. A doorway stood at the far end of a narrow passage, framed in worked stone that looked entirely out of place in the raw cavern. The lintel above it bore intricate carvings, curling lines of gold and silver that gleamed faintly in the gloom.
"That's… different," Sorrin said, stepping closer.
Inside was a room so utterly unlike the rest of the dungeon that he almost thought he had stepped into another place entirely. The air here was warmer, scented faintly with something like incense. Tall candelabras lined the walls, their flames steady despite the lack of wind. The floor was polished marble, veined with streaks of deep blue. Tapestries hung in rich folds, depicting scenes of grand feasts, battles, and a great tree whose branches reached to the edges of the cloth.
But what really caught Sorrin's eye was something else entirely.
At the far end of the room, resting on a desk worn smooth with age, lay a branch that should have been ordinary. Its shape was familiar; twisted wood, slender twigs reaching outward, yet there was something in its presence that pulled at the edges of thought. The bark shimmered faintly, as if thin strands of moonlight had woven themselves into its grain.
"That's odd, I haven't heard of any info regarding a tree branch artifact from the higher-ups," Renn said quietly, "might want to be cautious around that."
Sorrin stepped forward, drawn as though by invisible threads. The closer he got, the stronger the strange hum became, resonating in the air and in his bones. He reached out almost without thinking.
"Sorrin, wait—" Renn's voice cut through the haze, but his warning came too late.
Sorrin's fingers brushed the relic, and light burst outward in a blinding flash. Sound roared in his ears, not like any voice or wind he knew, but like the shattering of the world itself. The marble floor, the carved walls, and even the air between his lungs unraveled into a vast white void. For a heartbeat, he felt no weight and no ground, only the sensation of hanging in the middle of the sky.
He blinked, and the world reformed.
He was slumped against the trunk of a tree. Its bark was the color of old bone, and its roots wound deep into the soil. At first glance, it reminded him of the World Tree, though this one rose only thirty feet.
It can't be. If it were the World Tree, the root fog should have finished me already.
A strange calm settled over him. The air was warm, and the grass was soft beneath his palms, stretching in every direction like an endless meadow. The sky glowed a gentle blue, and sunlight fell across his face.
He drew in a slow breath. The air was rich, sweet, and alive. For a moment, it felt good.
But when his gaze drifted downward, the breath caught in his throat.
A root, pale and smooth, had wound itself into his torso, sliding between ribs and muscle as if it belonged there. Blood oozed around it, dark and slow, tracing along the grooves of the bark before dripping to the grass in thick drops. His body felt both numb and burning, as though the wound had been there forever and yet only now made itself known.
Shock froze him.
Then, without warning, the meadow vanished. The light collapsed into darkness, and the familiar shadows of the chamber returned.
Sorrin instinctively dashed backwards away from the branch, as he clutched his gut.
He looked down, half-expecting to find the wound and feeling relieved when he didn't.
The once luminescent branch now appeared as ordinary as any branch could be, but Sorrin knew better than to interact with it again.
"R-Ren, let's get out of here," Sorrin said with a shaky voice.
"Uh, alright? Hey, what even happened just now?" Renn said with a concerned expression on his face.
"I'll tell you about it later, but we definitely need to get out of this place, this dungeon. I could hardly care less about any hypothetical artifact we could fin-"
He was abruptly caught off guard by an intense glare Renn was giving him.
"Is that really you, Sorrin?"