Liam's boots crunched over brittle ash as the portal spat him out into Hell. The heat slammed into him like a furnace door flung wide—dry, relentless, sucking moisture from his skin in seconds. Sulfur coated his tongue. The sky churned crimson above jagged black spires that looked like they'd been carved from nightmares. Every breath felt heavier, laced with whispers that slithered into his skull: weak… worthless… die here like the rest…
He gripped the cheap knife tighter, knuckles white. The Retrievers moved ahead like they owned the place. Mara's hands glowed low orange, Jax's lightning scars flickered with restrained arcs, Kira's barrier ward shimmered faintly around her like heat haze. They didn't look back at the scavengers trailing them. They didn't need to.
The first nest came into view: a grotesque hive of fused bone and chitin, swarming with Hell Ants. Fist-sized, mandibles clicking, abdomens swollen with glowing acid. The Retrievers didn't hesitate.
Mara hurled a fireball that detonated in the center of the mound—orange bloom swallowing dozens of ants in shrieking flame. Jax unleashed crackling chains of lightning that leaped from one insect to the next, bodies bursting in wet pops. Kira's wards deflected sprays of acid that hissed and ate into the basalt like acid rain.
"Scavs—move!" Mara barked.
Liam lunged forward with the others. The ground was already slick with ichor. He dropped to one knee beside a charred corpse, knife slicing into the abdomen. The gland pulsed green under his blade. He cut too deep—a thin jet of acid sprayed across his forearm. Pain seared white-hot through leather and skin. He bit down on a curse, yanked the gland free, stuffed it into the pouch at his belt.
More ants surged. One clamped onto his calf—mandibles sinking in. He smashed it with his boot heel, feeling the crunch, then the burn as acid leaked through the tear in his pants. Blisters rose instantly. He harvested another gland, then another, each cut a gamble with fire.
The Retrievers cleared the nest in minutes. Bodies littered the ground—smoking husks, twitching legs. The scavengers worked fast, slicing, bagging, trying not to scream when acid found flesh.
But then Mara raised a hand.
"Hold."
She pointed toward a narrow fissure in the ravine wall ahead. Faint cries echoed from inside—human voices, desperate, broken.
"Trapped souls," Jax muttered, almost bored. "Shallow prison layer. Easy pickings if the guards don't get uppity."
They moved toward the fissure. The opening widened into a cavern that felt more like a dungeon carved from Hell's own bone. Twisted iron bars formed crude cages embedded in the walls. Dozens of prisoners—men, women, children—chained, filthy, hollow-eyed. Some reached through the bars, pleading in cracked voices.
"Please… help us…"
"My daughter's still alive—take her first…"
"I paid! My family paid the Guild!"
But before the Retrievers could approach, the shadows stirred.
Three Hell Demon guards emerged from alcoves carved into the rock—hulking, seven-foot brutes with skin like cracked obsidian, horns curling back from elongated skulls. Their eyes burned dull red. Chains of black iron dangled from their wrists, tipped with barbed hooks. One carried a massive flail made of fused vertebrae and glowing red crystal; another wielded twin serrated blades that dripped viscous black ichor; the third simply flexed claws that looked long enough to gut a man in one swipe.
The lead guard snarled, voice like grinding stones. "Trespassers. The unpaid rot here. Leave or join them."
Mara cracked her knuckles. Orange fire bloomed around her fists. "We're here for the contracts. Step aside."
The guards laughed—a wet, echoing sound that made Liam's stomach turn.
The fight erupted in seconds.
The flail-wielder charged Mara first. She sidestepped, hurling a concentrated fireball that slammed into its chest. The demon staggered, chest plate cracking, but it roared and swung the flail in a wide arc. Mara ducked under it, came up with a blazing uppercut that punched through its jaw—teeth exploding outward in a spray of black blood.
Jax moved next. Lightning arced from his fingertips, lashing out at the blade-wielder. The demon parried with crossed swords—sparks flying as electricity met enchanted steel—but the current jumped to its arms, locking muscles. Jax grinned, yanked the chain harder. The demon convulsed, blades dropping, then collapsed in a smoking heap.
Kira stayed defensive. The claw-guard lunged at her—claws raking air. Her ward flared, absorbing the blow with a sound like shattering glass. She countered with a shimmering blade of force that sliced across its thigh. Black ichor sprayed. The demon howled, staggering back.
The scavengers watched from the edges, frozen. Liam's heart hammered so hard it hurt. He'd never seen real combat like this—magic wielded like weapons, demons dying in sprays of gore. The air stank of burnt flesh and ozone.
Mara finished the flail-guard with a point-blank inferno that turned its head to ash. Jax chained the last one—lightning coiling around its throat until it dropped, twitching.
The cavern fell silent except for the prisoners' ragged breathing.
Mara wiped soot from her face. "Clear."
Kira pulled the slim ledger from her cloak, flipped pages. "Seven confirmed contracts. Relatives posted bond last cycle. The rest… unpaid."
Liam stared at the cages. A woman with two small children pressed against the bars, tears cutting tracks through grime on her face. One of the kids—maybe six—clutched a rag doll, staring at the Retrievers like they were gods.
"Please," the woman whispered. "We've been here months. They said if we paid, you'd come."
Mara's expression didn't change. "Contracts first. The rest stay."
Jax shrugged. "Rules are rules. Can't bring back strays without payment. Guild needs to eat too."
Kira began unlocking the paid cages. One by one, the fortunate few stumbled out—shaking, weeping with relief. A man hugged his teenage son. An elderly woman clung to a young woman who looked like her daughter. They were guided toward the extraction point without a backward glance.
The others screamed.
"No! You can't leave us!"
"My boy's dying—please!"
A teenage girl—maybe Liam's age—slammed her fists against the bars until they bled. "I have family! They're trying to raise the money! Just wait!"
Mara didn't even look at her.
Liam's stomach twisted so hard he nearly vomited. He thought of Zola—her cough rattling over the phone, her small body shaking on the tenement steps. If she were here, chained in bone, would they leave her too? Because he couldn't pay?
He stepped forward without thinking.
"Wait—"
Jax turned, lightning crackling along his fingers. "Stay in line, Atta. This ain't your call."
"But they're people. They're right there."
Mara's eyes flicked to him—cold, assessing. "And you're a scavenger. You harvest glands. You don't decide who lives or dies. That's above your pay grade."
The unpaid prisoners' screams rose to a fever pitch as the Retrievers herded the paid ones away. One man—gaunt, ribs showing—reached through the bars toward Liam.
"Kid… tell my wife… tell her I tried…"
Liam couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The whispers in his head grew louder: useless… no magic… can't save anyone… just like your mother…
The Retrievers vanished back toward the portal with their rescued cargo. The scavengers were ordered to follow.
Liam stayed a second longer. The teenage girl met his eyes—pleading, furious, hopeless.
He forced himself to turn away.
They moved on.
The ant hunting resumed, but Liam's hands shook now. Acid burned deeper into his burns. The mockery from Jax and Kira felt distant, drowned by the screams still echoing in his skull.
He pushed deeper—chasing stragglers into the ravine, desperate for more glands, more silver, anything to keep Zola breathing another week.
That's when the ground trembled.
A low growl rolled through the stone—deep, resonant, vibrating in his chest.
Hell Hound.
It stepped from the shadows: massive, smoke-wreathed fur rippling over muscle and bone, yellow eyes burning like twin suns. Claws gouged furrows in basalt with every step. Jaws dripped spectral saliva that sizzled on contact.
Liam's blood turned to ice. Intimidation crushed him—pure animal terror, the kind that locked knees and emptied minds. The whispers screamed: run… die… failure…
The Hound lunged.
He dove aside, shoulder slamming rock. Claws raked the ground, sending sparks and shards flying. He scrambled up, knife trembling in his grip—useless, pathetic.
It pounced again. Jaws snapped inches from his thigh. He slashed wildly—blade glancing off hide. The Hound roared, breath like furnace wind, reeking of rot.
Another swipe. Claws tore across his side—shirt and skin parting in ragged strips. Blood poured hot. Pain detonated white-hot through his ribs.
He ran—limping, gasping—deeper into the forbidden ravine. The Hound pursued, deliberate, enjoying the chase. Another claw caught his back—shredding flesh to bone. He screamed, voice raw, collapsing into ash.
The Hound pinned him. Massive paw crushed his shoulder—claws piercing muscle, grinding against bone. Agony blinded him. Jaws opened wide, teeth jagged obsidian, descending.
At the brink—vision blackening, blood pooling beneath him—he saw it.
Neon blue glow. Faint at first, then pulsing brighter.
A skeleton half-buried in rubble. Humanoid, but alien—elongated limbs, metallic sheen to the bones. Around it shimmered a fading aura: crackling like armor made of light, or a force field etched with impossible circuits. The skull's eye sockets glowed the same electric blue.
The Hound snarled, hesitating as the aura flared.
Darkness rushed in.
The blue light flowed—liquid, cold, electric—toward Liam's broken body. It touched his skin. A jolt shot through him, sharp and alive.
Then the world went black.