The tunnels stretched endlessly, pulsing with the faint heartbeat of the world.
Lucas trudged forward, one step at a time, guided by the dim veinlight threading through the walls like blue fire under glass. The air was thick, humid, alive with a low hum that vibrated in his chest. Every sound — his breathing, his boots scraping stone — felt too loud, as if the cave itself was listening.
He stopped once to rest against the wall, pressing his palm to the glowing veins. They were warm. Almost too warm. The pulse beneath them quickened when he touched it, syncing to the rhythm of his heartbeat for a moment before fading back.
"Okay," he muttered, pulling his hand away. "That's not creepy at all."
The silence answered in its usual way — by pressing harder.
He took a swig from the cracked canteen he'd scavenged from the miner's body. It tasted like metal and dirt, but it was water, and that was enough. His breath echoed faintly, uneven from exhaustion. His duck-print pajama pants were stained gray now, almost blending into the rock.
"Guess you're finally field-tested," he murmured to the ducks. "Hope you're proud."
A whisper slid through the air.
He froze.
The voice wasn't in his ears. It was behind them, somewhere inside his skull — quiet, layered, and ancient.
"Deeper."
Lucas spun, Reaper's Hook raised. Nothing. Only the faint shimmer of dust motes floating through the air.
"Fantastic," he whispered. "Now the cave talks. Perfectly normal day."
He pressed onward, letting the hum of the veins guide him. The deeper he went, the more they thickened — splitting and rejoining like rivers of light beneath the rock. Sometimes they flickered. Sometimes they pulsed in rhythm, slow and patient, like the world was breathing through them.
After what felt like hours, the tunnel opened up into a massive cavern. Lucas stopped at the edge and stared.
An underground lake spread before him, glowing faintly blue. The veins that had once run along the walls now poured into the water itself, making the surface shimmer like liquid starlight.
It was beautiful — hauntingly so. The air was warmer here, heavy with a metallic tang that stuck to his tongue. Steam rose off the lake in pale ribbons, catching the light like ghostly shapes that twisted and faded.
"Alright," Lucas whispered. "Ten out of ten on ambience. Still zero on comfort."
He crouched near the edge. The light from the lake reflected in his eyes, two dark mirrors catching a thousand tiny stars. The pull was almost magnetic — a subtle pressure in his chest, urging him to touch it.
He hesitated. "Don't touch the weird glowing water," he muttered. "That's, like, rule number one in every bad fantasy story."
The hum deepened in response, as if amused.
Lucas sighed. "You're not subtle, you know that?"
He extended one hand.
The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the world ignited.
A surge of blue light shot up his arm, searing but not burning. The lake roared — or maybe his pulse did. His body tensed as energy raced through every nerve, overwhelming, unstoppable.
[Skill Acquired: Vein Sense — Lv. 1]
Allows perception of nearby vein energy currents and anomalies. Overuse may cause disorientation, headaches, or temporary sensory distortion.
The cavern breathed.
Lucas felt it — the flow of the veins, the movement of energy like invisible tides pulling through him. He could feel where they ran, where they converged, where they died. The entire cave system was a living organism, and for one impossible moment, he was part of its circulatory system.
Then it became too much.
The light in his vision fractured into blinding ribbons. The ground shifted under his feet, and his knees buckled. He hit the stone hard, gasping as the light retreated back into the lake, leaving faint sparks under his skin that faded one by one.
He lay there for what felt like minutes, chest heaving, head spinning.
"Note to self," he croaked. "Stop touching things that glow."
When his vision steadied, the world wasn't quite the same. The veins around him shimmered differently — not brighter, but clearer. He could see faint patterns in their light now, spirals and intersections that hadn't existed before. The air buzzed faintly, like it was whispering things he couldn't quite catch.
And then, everything went still.
The lake dimmed, and the whispers condensed into something more deliberate — not words exactly, but the shape of them. Lucas felt his body go rigid, his eyes pulled toward the faint glow in the center of the lake. The surface began to ripple outward, as if something unseen had disturbed it.
"...You've gotta be kidding me," he whispered. "No. No monsters. Not right now."
The ripples spread wider, but nothing rose. Instead, the world blinked.
He stood in a vast expanse of white and blue — a place made of light, veins, and motion.
The ground pulsed like a heartbeat beneath translucent glass. Rivers of glowing energy streamed through the air, flowing in impossible directions. Every sound was a low, steady hum, like the universe breathing through a single lung.
Lucas looked down at himself — his body glowed faintly, his veins shining like thin lines of blue light.
"Okay," he muttered, "this is officially the weirdest lucid dream I've ever had."
Then he saw it.
A figure stood ahead of him — tall, humanoid, but not human. Its body was made of crystal shards held together by light, its face a smooth, faceted mask with no eyes, no mouth. Yet somehow, it looked at him.
Lucas froze. "...Hi?"
The figure tilted its head slightly, and its voice entered his mind — not as sound, but as resonance.
"The stone remembers."
"The spark survives."
"The light chooses the hollow."
Lucas blinked. "Cool. Totally clear. I'll just… put that in my non-existent glossary."
The figure reached toward him, its hand breaking apart into motes of light. They swirled in the air, drifting closer until they struck his chest like gentle sparks.
He gasped. The energy sank into him — not painfully this time, but deep, as if it had always belonged there.
[Ability Acquired: Vein Resonance — Passive]
Your connection to vein energy has stabilized. Nearby vein structures will subtly respond to your emotional or physical state.
The figure's voice faded, leaving only a final whisper in the back of his mind.
"The veins remember what the world forgets."
Then the light shattered.
Lucas woke up on the cavern floor, gasping. The lake had dimmed back to its calm, mirror-like glow. His body ached, but the pain was different now — not sharp, more like the soreness that came after a long run. His heart thudded steadily in his chest, and every pulse of blood made the nearest veins flicker faintly.
"Okay," he wheezed. "Dream sequence achieved. No idea what just happened."
He stood shakily, brushing dust from his jacket. The air felt lighter now — not in temperature, but in weight. The hum in the walls had changed too. It wasn't just sound anymore. He could feel it — the push and pull of energy like waves brushing against his mind.
He could sense where the veins flowed strongest, where they weakened, where they converged below him.
"Vein Sense," he muttered, recalling the message. "Right. So… I basically have rock radar now. Cool."
He paused, then added, "Still prefer Wi-Fi."
He tested his new awareness, closing his eyes. The world lit up in his mind's eye — lines of light weaving through the stone, all leading downward. The deeper ones pulsed faster, more erratic, like something was feeding on the energy.
His stomach twisted. "Guess that's where the fun's coming from."
He opened his eyes again and noticed his reflection in the water — faint blue flickers running through his pupils before fading. His breath caught.
"Yeah… that's definitely not normal."
He crouched by the lake again, staring at his hands. When he focused, the veins beneath his skin pulsed faintly in response. It wasn't control — not yet — but it was recognition.
He was connected now, whether he wanted to be or not.
The whisper came again, distant but clearer this time:
"Deeper, little spark."
Lucas exhaled shakily. "Yeah, yeah. I'm going."
He slung the Reaper's Hook across his shoulder and took one last look at the lake. "If I die from curiosity," he muttered, "I'm haunting this place."
As he turned toward the next tunnel, the veins brightened subtly — almost like they approved.
He sighed. "Great. Now the cave's cheering for me. That's not weird at all."
He started walking again, guided by the pulse beneath his feet. Every few steps, the faint rhythm of the veins echoed through him, and the edges of the world seemed to shift — a heartbeat syncing to his own.
Lucas didn't notice the shadow moving in the far distance, just beyond the lake's reflection.
It was tall, silent, and very much awake.
The veins dimmed slightly, as if holding their breath.
And Lucas, muttering to himself about coffee and Wi-Fi, walked deeper into the dark.