The rift wasn't quite solid. Parts of it seemed to dissolve into the nothing below the platform, like someone had burned a scar into reality. It was massive, its edges glowing a sharp, unnatural violet. Heat rolled upward, warping the air as if over molten stone.
"What now, we just jump?" Nor asked.
"I'm going—" Euthy began—
Something dropped past them first. Big. Axe. Red hair.
"Hahaha! Where's the fun if you just stand around thinking?" Vox bellowed, vanishing into the glow.
Nor snorted. "Tsk. Idiot…" He jumped after him.
Euthy gave Kade one last look—unforgiving, sharp—and followed.
Kade stood for a beat. Then stepped forward, and the rift grew around him, swallowing the world until there was nothing but violet.
Inside, everything was muffled. A deep, constant rumble hung in the air like water pressing on his ears. Fragments drifted past—like someone had shattered Norctum's sky and thrown the shards into a current. In each sliver, something flickered: landscapes, faces, disasters. Nothing clear, everything blurred by distance. And yet… all carried the same tone as Norctum.
Then the ground appeared beneath him. Maybe twenty meters down.
Kade twisted, brought his legs under him, hit hard, rolled, and let the impact drain through his shoulder and back.
Of course. First force everyone to jump, then make it look like a choice. Thanks, Crownface. Masterpiece.
He pushed himself up.
GAMETWOObjective: Find the portal that leads to the Upper Grounds.Time Limit: 7 days.
A portal? No clues? "Thanks, Crownface. You're a real treasure," Kade muttered.
Black sand stretched in all directions, sight limited by a constant haze of dust. Sounds carried far—scrapes, faint metallic clinks. Here and there, ruins broke through the surface: toppled columns, fractured mosaics, walls pitted like old teeth.
The ground vibrated.
Kade's hand slid to his belt. Two daggers in his grip, blades flat, breath steady. Duskveil stirred against his arm like an animal waking, threads brushing the skin in slow coils.
The sand erupted. Something black surged out—a cylindrical body, hide like charred leather, a round maw lined with spiraling teeth.
A worm. Won't be— It tilted toward him—if "tilting" even applied—and made a noise that was half roar, half screech.
Something clicked in him. No thought—just a pull, sharp and cold.
PREDATORYINSTINCT—active
Weight shift under the sand. A pressure line arcing toward his flank. The whisper of displaced air before mass breaks through.
Kade sank low, then sprinted forward, both daggers leading. The worm jerked—diving at an angle, not up but down, to bite from beneath.
Kade jumped. The snap passed under him, sand spraying like sparks. Midair, Duskveil's threads snapped out, coiling around the thick ridge just behind the maw, tracing the contour, then yanking.
He landed crouched at its side and drove a dagger in deep.
Bleeding
The worm thrashed, whipping arcs of sand, but Kade clung to it like a thorn. Blade in—twist—rip. Threads hauled him back whenever the beast tried to shake him loose.
Bleedingx2
A violent jerk—he slid free, skidding across the grit, caught himself on one blade, felt the shudder through it, and leapt back in.
Bleedingx3
Bleedingx4
Teeth clenched, copper rising in his mouth. Another stab, another pull. The twitching slowed to faint spasms.
Kade kicked the thing's flank. "Huh. Took longer than it should've."
The grey overlay blinked.
{Sandlurker} defeated.Reward: NONE.
"Not even a reward? Really—"
The vibration returned—stronger. This one drilled into his bones. Not one worm. Dozens.
"I guess it's time to test the ring," he murmured.
He put middle finger and thumb to his lips, shaped the circle, and whistled sharp.
The ring chilled. Steam hissed from the dark metal, spilling over his skin, pooling on the sand. The vapor thickened, gained edges, lost them again—until it had legs, a neck, a half-bared skull. A horse-shape, half rotted: one flank slick black, the other raw and veined, barely alive.
Kade arched a brow. "So this is what I collected all those artifacts for."
He vaulted onto its back, settled into the half-mane. "Move."
Nothing.
"I said move. Deaf?"
The creature looked back, slow, and shook its head.
Irritation burned. "We don't have time. Move, or we both die."
The look it gave him was almost… disappointed. And something in Kade flinched—a flash he hadn't called for: his father's voice, telling him you ask when you want something, not just demand.
Kade drew a breath. "Move," he said, firm. Then, quieter: "… please."
The horse's mouth split wide—not in malice, but like a grin—and it launched forward.
Sand frothed under its hooves like water. Behind them, the surface broke in dozens of places; black maws with snapping teeth tore through. Kade pressed himself low against its neck, hands tight in the cold mist-mane.
"Left," he called as a cracked mosaic jutted from the ground ahead. The creature swerved. A lurker lunged for his boot—Duskveil snapped, slapping teeth and forcing it back down.
They burst into a field of toppled columns. Dust here hung heavier, falling in strings. Kade let Instinct map the ground—feel the hollow spots, the treacherous shifts. "Right. Straight. Jump!"
The horse leapt. A maw clamped shut beneath them. They landed on the edge of an old staircase, half-buried in grit. The steps sloped into a shallow pit walled by broken stone.
The sand behind rolled like a living tide. Kade saw three lurkers breach at once, in perfect sync.
"Faster," he hissed.
It obeyed. Hooves hammered down the steps, struck stone, carried them into the shadow of a fallen arch. The tide swept past, teeth grinding on emptiness.
Kade slid down, breath rough, daggers still out, Duskveil tight at his pulse. The mist-horse stood beside him, snorting cold vapor that beaded on his cheek. In the swirl, he swore he saw a face that wasn't his own. Not now.
He listened. The vibrations faded, scattering. Stillness here meant temporary safety.
"Good… horse," he muttered, then smirked. "That wasn't a request."
Its jaw shifted—almost another grin.
He traced the nearest wall. Faint carvings: a circle, lines like spokes, arrows. Direction? Or market marks from another age? Above it, more stone rose—statues, packed close. Blank faces, eyes unseeing.
"Perfect. Statue forest. Just what I needed."
The horse nudged his elbow. Between two figures, a narrow corridor cut deeper. At the far end, a shimmer—no light, just air flowing wrong.
Portal? Or another trap?
He drew his second blade, whistled once—a signal, not a command. They moved forward, hooves nearly silent.
Every few steps, he blinked. Not in fatigue—in calculation. Eyes open: statues where they should be. Eyes closed, open again: one was closer. Sand folded differently around its base.
They reached halfway. Instinct surged—too close. Left foot, half-step, and now.
He rolled, heard stone claw the space his ankle had been, scrambled beneath an arm of marble, yanked the horse through with a Duskveil tug. The beast shoved another statue aside; pebbles trickled down. A glassy laugh slid through the ranks without a moving mouth.
"Five meters," he breathed. "Four."
The shimmer was ahead—an upright veil in the air, sand grains hanging in it, drifting backward.
A grab at his back—he spun, blade ready. No hand. No arm. Just the shadow of a statue that was suddenly close. Duskveil lashed, coiling the stone forearm, yanking. No give, but the movement stopped.
"Now," he told the horse.
It bolted. Kade leapt with it, shoulder first, ripping the threads free, and they broke the veil.
Cold. A note like a string drawn too tight.
Stone scraped behind. Ahead—dark, then light, then—
Another courtyard. Same sand, but the air carried metallic dryness, old ash. The veil behind flickered, then died.
NOTICE: Localtransitions unstable. Permanent portals—unknown.
Kade stood, breathing hard, but in the gaps between breaths something else pulsed—steady, focused. Predatory Instinct laying paths, marking traps.
"Okay," he said, mostly to himself. "Portal. Upper Grounds. Seven days."
The horse snorted, and in the mist he heard something like agreement.
Far off, the wind carried laughter. Not Vox. Not Euthy. Not Nor. Something else. Or someone who wanted it to sound like laughter.
Kade lifted his chin. "We're not done yet."
He gave a short, sharp whistle—gratitude this time—and the horse started forward, into the sunken market.
Behind a half-buried stall, a shadow moved. Big—two men tall, standing on each other's shoulders. Kade caught it in the corner of his eye, and that was enough.
He smiled thinly. "Let's dance."
And walked toward it.