The air of the new cavern tasted different—dustier, laced with the faint tang of torch smoke. Nyxar padded ahead without a word, while Bug flitted circles around his hood like a worried lantern.
Whispers in the Dark
Bug's voice was a low buzz against the endless black.
"How many summons are we even at now, dude?"
Nyxar said nothing, eyes scanning the jagged tunnel.
They both froze at the echo of boots on stone. A murmur of voices—human voices—carried through the dark. Nyxar pressed himself into the shadow of a broken column, Bug nestling against his collar.
A group emerged, torchlight spilling across their armor. They spoke a language Nyxar didn't know.
Bug tilted his tiny head, listening.
"They're saying they're hunting monsters. Something about a troll sighting."
"Troll?" Nyxar murmured.
Bug's antennae twitched.
"Yeah. Big, ugly… actually, never mind. It's probably that one you—uh—accidentally head-collected."
Nyxar blinked.
A First Glimpse of Light
They crept onward until a pale orange glow bled down the corridor.
Nyxar squinted—and then hissed, staggering. Living in near-eternal dark had turned his eyes into hyper-sensitive glass. The torchlight stabbed like a knife.
Bug zipped in front of his face.
"Whoa, careful! You'll burn your retinas clean off. Got extra cloth?"
Nyxar slowly tugged a strip from his pack.
"Tie it around your head," Bug ordered.
Nyxar stared, clearly baffled. "Tie?"
Bug snatched the cloth, zipped a neat knot, and wrapped it across Nyxar's eyes like a makeshift blindfold.
"Congratulations, you're now fashionably safe," Bug said, satisfied.
Through the Miners' Paths
They slipped from shadow to shadow, following the torchlit tunnels of what was clearly a maintained mine—strange beams and cart tracks cutting through the ancient rock. They ducked into an unexplored side corridor whenever armored patrols passed, Nyxar's breathing slow and silent.
In one chamber, another group of adventurers chatted around a corner. Bug translated in a whisper.
"They're talking about finding valuables to sell."
Nyxar tilted his head. "Sell?"
Bug sighed.
"That's a later talk, trust me."
Wild Encounter
A sudden roar shook the chamber. Ahead, a Steel Bear, larger and meaner than usual, ambushed the unsuspecting group. Sparks flew as swords glanced off its iron-thick hide. The adventurers barely survived, leaving behind gear as distraction before fleeing into the tunnels.
Nyxar waited for their echoes to fade, then summoned a single Mantis. In eerie silence, the insectoid assassin slid across the stone and one-sliced the bear's head clean off.
The Grimwar floated up—and remained blank.
Nyxar frowned. "No gain."
Bug tapped the book irritably.
"Right. They found it first. Shared aggro. Guess that voids your monster warranty."
Loot & Confusion
They scavenged the abandoned equipment:
Sword & Spear: Sharp, balanced, gleaming.
Bag: Crinkling papers, stoppered bottles of mysterious liquid, and a water flask.
Pouch: A stiff, thin card with strange markings.
Nyxar turned the "map" in his hands, brow furrowed. He could no more read it than he could sprout wings.
Bug hovered over the bottles.
"Potions? Maybe poison. Or salad dressing. Fifty-fifty shot."
Nyxar sniffed one, grimaced, and stowed them all.
Bug pointed at the new weapons.
"Finally, sharp steel. That old dagger's blunter than a rock concert."
Nyxar slid the sword to his hip, the spear across his back, and looked down at his blackened dagger, crusted with endless dried blood.
"Still useful," he said simply.
Bug groaned.
"Sentimental, huh? Fine. Keep your murder toothpick."
Dead End
They explored deeper but soon faced a sheer wall of stone—a true dead end.
Bug paced in tiny frantic loops.
"Okay, inventory check: two Steel Bears, two Mantises, one me, and one colossal bell-shaped miracle. No food but mystery goo. If we stay, we starve. If we go back, we meet about fifty angry miners with torches. Fantastic odds!"
Nyxar silently opened the Grimwar, scanning his list of creatures. His eyes drifted to the dark insignia seared across his right hand.
He closed the book with finality. "I know what."
The Bellhead Plan
He raised his marked hand. Shadows rippled like ink in water.
BONG—
The Bell Beast erupted upward with joyful force, the cavern trembling as its armored body unfurled. It let out a happy chime that felt like a subterranean sunrise.
Bug flinched midair.
"Oh. Oh, you're serious. We're really riding the rock bulldozer."
Nyxar swung his pack over his shoulder, securing sword, spear, and his beloved dagger. He scooped Bug from the air and set him gently on the back of the giant creature.
"Name it," Nyxar said flatly.
Bug blinked.
"Me? Uh… Bellhead. Sir Bong. Tunnel Train. Pick one!"
The Bell Beast let out a resonant bong as if casting the deciding vote.
"Bellhead," Nyxar repeated without inflection, giving the beast a slow head-pat.
Bellhead wiggled—yes, wriggled—in delight, the ground humming with a low, happy vibration.
Ascension
Nyxar gave a single nod. "Up."
With a deep, joyous chime, Bellhead drilled into the ceiling.
Stone sheared like wet clay. Dust stormed. The cavern roared around them as Bug clung to Nyxar's collar with all six legs, squealing:
"I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THE EXPRESS ELEVATOR!"
The two Steel Bears lumbered behind, the Mantises skittering effortlessly across collapsing walls to keep pace, an entourage of unstoppable muscle and blades.
Rocks rained like thunder as the Bell Beast carved an upward spiral, each bong echoing like a victory bell across the endless dark.
Bug's voice carried over the rumble, equal parts terror and awe:
"Okay, okay, I admit it—this is kind of amazing. Also completely insane. But mostly amazing!"
Nyxar merely held tighter to the beast's armored ridge, eyes hidden beneath his cloth blindfold, silent and steady as the underground world trembled around them.
And with one final joyous BONG, the Bell Beast surged toward whatever strange light lay above, carrying its odd little family into unknown depths—or perhaps, at last, toward the surface.