PACT OF THE UNSEEN -
Chapter 2: THE DUNGEON'S MAW
The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the orphanage dining hall, casting long shadows across rows of wooden tables. The large space that usually echoed with the clatter of dishes and adolescent chatter was unusually quiet. Children sat in small clusters, pushing food around their plates, speaking in hushed tones if they spoke at all.
Tomas, Nia, and Ben sat together at their usual table near the far wall. Their breakfast sat mostly untouched. Ben's eyes were red-rimmed, like he'd been crying recently but was trying to hide it. Nia stared at her oatmeal as if it held answers to questions she was afraid to ask. Tomas kept glancing toward the entrance, waiting.
The dining hall doors opened. Kael entered, his walking stick tapping its familiar rhythm against the stone floor. The ambient noise that remained died completely. Several children glanced at him, then quickly looked away, as if afraid to be caught staring.
He navigated to his usual corner table, the one positioned so his back was to the wall and he could hear everyone else in the room. His movements were precise, mechanical. He'd walked this route so many times he could do it in his sleep.
As he passed the three younger children, Tomas spoke up quietly.
TOMAS:
Morning, Uncle Kael.
NIA (barely audible):
Morning.
Kael paused mid-step. For a moment, he simply stood there, his wrapped eyes turned in their general direction. Then he gave a slight nod and continued to his table.
The silence that followed felt oppressive.
A few minutes later, Lillian entered with her breakfast tray balanced carefully in one hand. She surveyed the room, her expression shifting from neutral to concerned as she took in the atmosphere. Her eyes found the three younger children, then tracked over to Kael sitting alone in his corner.
She made her way to Tomas, Nia, and Ben's table and sat down with forced cheerfulness.
LILLIAN:
Good morning, you three! Big day coming up, right? The drafting ceremony is this afternoon!
The children barely reacted. Ben's hands trembled slightly as he gripped his spoon. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over.
BEN (voice cracking):
Aunty Lillian, will we ever be useful? Was Uncle Kael right? About us?
Lillian's bright smile faltered. She glanced toward Kael's table. He was eating methodically, his back to them, but something in his posture suggested he was listening to every word.
LILLIAN (recovering, voice gentle):
Your Uncle was just hungry yesterday. That's why he said those things. People say stuff they don't mean when they're tired or hungry or stressed, and—
NIA (cutting in, her voice hollow):
He didn't look hungry to me. He looked certain. Like he'd already calculated our futures and found us wanting.
TOMAS (staring at his plate):
We barely bonded with anything reasonable. Even if we get drafted into the combat division, we'll just be auxiliaries at best. Cooks at worst. Or bodies to throw at Hollows when they need a distraction and the real Predators are occupied elsewhere.
The last sentence hung in the air like a physical weight. Other nearby children had stopped eating, listening with varying expressions of discomfort and recognition.
LILLIAN (struggling for words):
That's not... you can't think like that. You have to...
She trailed off, unable to finish the thought convincingly.
At his corner table, Kael had stopped eating. His jaw was clenched tight enough that the muscle twitched. His hand gripped his spoon so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
A memory flickered unbidden through his mind. Himself at ten years old, standing in front of Instructor Craig in this very dining hall. Other children watching.
INSTRUCTOR CRAIG:
You'll never be a Predator, boy. Accept it. Find a different purpose.
YOUNG KAEL (desperate, voice cracking):
But I can fight! I've been training! I can do everything the others can do, I just need—
INSTRUCTOR CRAIG:
You're blind. End of discussion.
The memory faded, leaving him back in the present. His hand trembled slightly before he forced it still.
Why did I say that to them? He thought. Why did I have to be so brutal?
But he knew why. Because hope without foundation was cruelty. Because watching children march toward death with smiles on their faces was worse than any harsh truth he could deliver.
Wasn't it?
The chair scraped loudly as he stood. The sound made everyone in the dining hall jump. Conversations died mid-sentence. All eyes turned to watch as Kael walked toward the three children's table, his stick tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm.
He reached their table and slammed his hand down on the wooden surface. The impact echoed like a gunshot in the silent hall.
KAEL (loud, sharp):
Alright. That's ENOUGH.
The children flinched. Lillian looked alarmed, half-rising from her seat as if to intervene.
KAEL (gruff, but with something underneath):
Ignore what I said yesterday. I was just hungry. Like Lillian said.
NIA (confused):
But you—
KAEL:
You might be more than just cooks and cleaners. Dream big. Train hard. Forget what I said. Got it?
The three children exchanged uncertain glances, as if trying to determine whether this was some new form of cruelty.
TOMAS (hesitant):
But Uncle Kael, we're still not sure we can make it. The bonding chambers, the evaluations, the standards they hold us to—
KAEL (an exasperated sigh):
Fine. FINE. Just because of that, I'll come to your drafting ceremony. I'll be there. I'll even cheer you on if you want. Happy?
Ben's eyes widened so much they looked like they might fall out of his head.
BEN:
Really? You'll actually come?
KAEL (turning away, clearly embarrassed):
Yes. Now don't get all mushy about it. Go train or eat or whatever. Stop moping around like someone died.
The transformation was immediate. Actual smiles appeared on the children's faces. Color returned to their cheeks. Tomas sat up straighter.
TOMAS (excited):
We'll make you proud, Uncle Kael! We'll work really hard and—
KAEL (waving dismissively as he walked back toward his table):
Just don't die. That's all I ask.
The words were harsh, but the children heard the concern underneath. They started eating with renewed appetite, already planning how they'd prove themselves at the ceremony.
Lillian followed Kael back to his table and sat down across from him without asking permission. She was grinning.
LILLIAN (teasing):
Awww. Kael is getting soft. Look at you, being all supportive and caring about—
KAEL (not looking up from his food):
Shut up and eat your breakfast.
LILLIAN (laughing):
There's the Kael I know.
For a moment, genuine warmth passed between them. Around the dining hall, the oppressive atmosphere had lifted noticeably. Children resumed their conversations. The normal sounds of breakfast returned.
Kael ate his food and tried to ignore the small, unfamiliar feeling of satisfaction that had settled in his chest.
---The Home of The Powerful Venici household---
The wealthy district of the city stood in stark contrast to the orphanage. Where the training grounds were functional and sparse, here everything spoke of excess and old money. Manicured gardens surrounded estates that could house fifty families each. Private security patrolled the streets. The very air seemed cleaner, as if even pollution knew better than to trespass here.
The Venici Manor was among the most impressive. Sprawling grounds, fountains imported from the old world, and at the back of the property, a private training complex that rivaled some military facilities.
Inside that complex, a figure moved through combat drills with lethal precision.
Lura Venici was eighteen years old with long crimson hair tied in a high ponytail and fierce gold eyes that burned with competitive fire. She wore expensive combat gear that was nevertheless practical, designed for movement rather than show. Sweat dripped down her face as she engaged with her opponent.
The Hollow training dummy lunged at her, its movements constrained by heavy restraints but still deadly if she made a mistake. It was a Tier 1 Hollow, captured and repurposed for training. Most families would never take such a risk. Most families weren't the Venicis.
Lura dodged left, reading the creature's attack pattern. She struck with a combat knife, the blade enhanced with pact energy. The Hollow disintegrated with a shriek.
LURA (to herself, exhilarated):
Yes! Forty-three seconds! New personal record!
She was breathing hard, smiling with the pure joy of combat and self-improvement. For these moments, when it was just her and the fight, everything else fell away.
The training room door opened. Mrs. Venici entered, elegant and cold as always, with a servant following behind carrying fresh towels.
MRS. VENICI (disapproving tone):
Lura, dear. That task isn't for you.
Lura didn't stop her cool-down stretches, though her smile dimmed slightly.
LURA:
I'm training, Mother. Like any Predator candidate should.
MRS. VENICI:
You misunderstand. I didn't say you shouldn't train. I said that task, becoming a Predator, isn't for you.
Lura stopped mid-stretch and turned to face her mother fully, confusion and anger warring on her face.
LURA:
What are you talking about? I've been preparing for this my entire life. I bonded with Phantom Phoenix last month. I'm qualified. I'm stronger than half the candidates in my age bracket. I'm—
MRS. VENICI (cutting her off smoothly):
You'll marry a man strong enough to achieve your dreams for both of you. A proper partnership. You provide support and strategic counsel. He provides glory and protection. That's how our family has always operated, dear. That's how we've survived.
LURA (angry):
I don't WANT a "proper partnership!" I want to fight! I want to stand on the front lines and—
MRS. VENICI:
Enough. This afternoon, you'll accompany your father to a meeting with Professor Vedi. I hear he has a son your age. Quite accomplished. Bonded with a Mythical-class creature, if the rumors are true.
Lura groaned, the sound echoing through the training room.
LURA:
Levius Vedi? That self-righteous asshole? Mother, he's insufferable. He acts like he's better than everyone else. He has this whole nihilistic philosophy about equality that makes me want to punch him in his smug face, and he doesn't even care about—
MRS. VENICI (ignoring the outburst entirely):
But he is very handsome. And powerful. A perfect match for someone of your standing.
LURA (crossing her arms):
If he's so perfect, YOU marry him.
MRS. VENICI (placing a hand over her heart in mock offense):
My, oh my. Dear Lura, you're breaking your mother's heart.
LURA:
Good. Maybe it'll finally beat with something other than social ambition and political maneuvering.
Silence fell between them, tense and charged. Mrs. Venici studied her daughter with calculating eyes.
MRS. VENICI (a different tone now, almost conspiratorial):
However, if you attend this meeting without complaint, without causing a scene, I'll arrange for you to train with a real Hollow. Not a dummy. A Tier 2, perhaps. Genuine combat scenario.
Lura's eyes gleamed with interest despite herself. A real Hollow. Actual combat experience. The kind of training that could push her to the next level.
LURA (reluctant):
A Tier 2? Not restrained? Full combat?
MRS. VENICI:
Under supervision, of course. We're not monsters. But yes, genuine danger. Genuine growth opportunity.
Lura sighed dramatically, but her mother could see she'd already won.
LURA:
Fine. FINE. I'll go to the stupid meeting. I'll smile and be polite and pretend I care about whatever self-important nonsense Levius Vedi wants to spout. But I'm not marrying some stuck-up golden boy just because he has a Mythical and good cheekbones.
MRS. VENICI (satisfied smile):
That's all I ask, dear. Now go make yourself presentable. We leave in two hours.
Lura stormed off toward the manor house. Mrs. Venici watched her go with an unreadable expression, then turned to the servant.
MRS. VENICI:
Have the car prepared. And send word to Professor Vedi that we'll be punctual.
The servant bowed and left. Mrs. Venici stood alone in the training room, looking at the spot where the Hollow had disintegrated.
She was quiet for a long moment before speaking to the empty air.
MRS. VENICI:
She has her father's spirit. It will either make her great or get her killed.
The Predator Training Complex was massive, a fortress-like structure in the heart of the city dedicated to transforming orphans and volunteers into humanity's defenders. The drafting arena occupied the central building, a large auditorium that could hold several hundred people.
Today it was packed.
Orphans filled the main floor, arranged in nervous groups. Instructors lined the walls, observing their former charges with varying degrees of pride and concern. Predator officials occupied the raised platform at the front, behind a long table covered in files and documents.
Kael and Lillian stood near the back of the crowd. Kael's arms were crossed, his expression unreadable behind his wrappings. Lillian stood on her toes, trying to see over the taller people in front of them.
On stage, the ceremony had begun. An official with graying hair and a voice trained to carry called out names one by one.
OFFICIAL:
Marcus Lane, Support Division, Equipment Maintenance. Sora Kimura, Combat Division, 52nd Vanguard Unit reserve...
Each name was met with polite applause. Each child walked across the stage with varying levels of confidence to receive their assignment papers. Some beamed with pride. Others looked relieved just to have a place at all.
Tomas was called. He walked onto the stage, his small frame trying to project confidence he didn't quite feel.
OFFICIAL:
Tomas Greyson, Combat Division, 79th Vanguard Unit auxiliary.
The three children cheered for each other from their position in the crowd. Kael didn't cheer audibly, but his head tilted slightly in approval. Lillian waved enthusiastically, not caring who saw.
LILLIAN (to Kael):
See? They made it! Combat division!
KAEL:
They're auxiliaries. Barely in the door. But it's something.
Nia was next, receiving the same assignment. Then it was Ben's turn.
The twelve-year-old walked up to the officials' table with hope written across his face. He'd worked so hard for this. They all had, but Ben especially. He'd been the one to organize extra training sessions, to encourage the others when they wanted to give up.
BEN (at the desk, trying to sound confident):
Ben Carver, ready for assignment!
The official checked the roster. His expression shifted from neutral to uncomfortable. He checked again, running his finger down the list as if hoping the name would appear.
OFFICIAL (awkward, apologetic):
I'm... I'm sorry. There's been a change. Your slot has been reallocated.
Ben's face fell like someone had physically struck him.
BEN:
What? But I passed! I did everything right! I—
OFFICIAL:
I'm very sorry. There's nothing I can do.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Lillian leaned toward an orphan standing nearby.
LILLIAN (whispering):
What happened? Why would they—
ORPHAN (whispering back):
I heard a rich family's son showed up last minute. Paid for a slot. They had to bump someone to make room.
Lillian's face went pale. She turned to Kael and relayed the information quietly.
LILLIAN:
Kael, they rejected Ben. Not because he failed. Because some rich businessman's son bought his way in.
Kael's entire body went rigid. Every muscle tensed. His hands, which had been resting loosely crossed over his chest, clenched into fists.
KAEL (low, dangerous):
What?
On stage, Ben was being escorted off by a sympathetic but firm instructor. The boy was trying desperately not to cry in front of everyone, his face red with the effort of holding back tears.
Another figure walked onto the stage to take his place. Garrett Cross was seventeen, well-dressed in expensive casual clothes that probably cost more than the entire orphanage's monthly budget. He had perfectly styled hair and a smile that suggested he'd never been told "no" in his life.
OFFICIAL:
Garrett Cross, Combat Division, 79th Vanguard Unit auxiliary.
GARRETT (loud, addressing the crowd like a politician):
Thank you! Thank you so much! I promise to uphold the Predators' legacy and serve humanity with distinction!
Polite applause followed, some of it genuine, much of it forced. The other orphans knew what had happened. They could see Ben standing at the edge of the stage, shoulders shaking.
Kael's hands clenched tighter. Something inside him snapped.
KAEL (suddenly shouting from the crowd, his voice cutting through the applause):
DAMN YOU! You sons of bitches!
Everyone turned. The applause died. Guards tensed, hands moving toward weapons.
Kael's voice echoed through the auditorium with righteous fury.
KAEL:
You speak of fairness! Of merit! Of humanity's survival depending on the strongest and most dedicated! Yet the pig willing to throw money at you is worth more than all your words combined! You're hypocrites! Every single one of you!
GUARD 1 (moving toward him):
Sir, you need to calm down and—
KAEL:
That boy EARNED his place! He trained harder than half the people on that stage! And you took it from him because someone's wallet was fat enough to make you forget your own principles!
GUARD 2 (grabbing Kael's arm):
That's enough! You're being removed from the premises!
Two guards seized Kael by the arms and began dragging him toward the exit. He didn't resist physically, but he continued shouting, his voice carrying over the shocked silence.
KAEL:
This system is BROKEN! You're going to get people killed with your corruption! You're—
The doors slammed shut, cutting off his words. The auditorium remained silent for a long moment.
Lillian stood frozen, torn between following Kael and staying with Ben. She looked at the stage where Ben now sat with Tomas and Nia, both trying to comfort their friend. Then she looked at the doors where Kael had disappeared.
She made her decision. She pushed through the crowd to reach Ben, taking his hand.
LILLIAN (to Ben, gentle):
Come on. Let's get you home.
The ceremony continued, but the energy had been poisoned. Everyone could feel it.
The capital district was usually pristine, a showcase of humanity's resilience and prosperity. But like any city, it had its back alleys and forgotten spaces. Maintenance tunnels ran beneath the streets, connecting buildings and providing access to infrastructure most people never thought about.
Kael sat on a crate in one of these alleys, his back against cold brick, breathing hard. Anger still radiated from him in waves, but it was mixed now with calculation.
KAEL (to himself):
There has to be another way. The regional manager's office is in this district. If I can speak with them directly, bypass the ceremony officials and their bought decisions...
He stood, orienting himself. The mental map of the city he'd been building for years activated. The manager's office was three blocks east, accessible through a maintenance tunnel that connected to the administrative building's lower levels.
He started walking, his stick tapping a familiar rhythm as he navigated into what he believed was the correct passage.
Thirty minutes later, Kael realized something was wrong.
The tunnel had started normally enough. Concrete walls, proper lighting, the distant hum of machinery. But gradually, things had changed. The walls were rougher now, almost natural stone. The lighting had faded to dim phosphorescent patches that seemed organic rather than installed. Strange markings appeared on the walls, symbols he didn't recognize even with his limited visual awareness.
KAEL (muttering to himself):
Should be just through here. Then up the access shaft, second floor, manager's office...
A voice behind him made him jump so violently he nearly dropped his stick.
VOICE:
KAEL!
He spun around, hand pressed to his chest. Lillian emerged from the shadows, panting like she'd been running.
KAEL (hand on chest):
What the—Lillian?! Why are you following me?!
LILLIAN:
I left Ben with Instructor Craig. I was worried about you! You can't just storm into the regional manager's office! They'll arrest you for—
KAEL:
Watch me.
LILLIAN (sighing, falling into step beside him):
Fine. If you're doing something stupid, I'm coming with you.
KAEL:
I didn't ask for a babysitter.
LILLIAN:
I know. I'm doing it anyway.
They continued deeper into the tunnel. With each step, the environment became more unnatural. The air grew colder. The symbols on the walls began to pulse with faint purple light.
LILLIAN (nervous, trailing her hand along the wall):
Kael, this looks less like a maintenance tunnel and more like a dungeon entrance.
Kael stopped walking, his expression shifting from irritated to concerned.
KAEL:
You're right. The air feels different. Wrong. And I heard rumors at the orphanage, a dungeon opened in this district recently. Unstable portal. They were supposed to have sealed it but—
LILLIAN (panic rising in her voice):
KAEL, WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU LED US INTO?!
KAEL (urgent):
Quick! Check for the exit portal we came through!
Lillian ran back the way they'd come, her footsteps echoing. She reached the spot where they'd entered and stopped dead.
The doorway was gone. In its place stood a solid stone wall, seamless and ancient-looking. Faint purple energy pulsed across its surface in rhythmic waves.
LILLIAN (voice rising to a near-shriek):
It's GONE! The exit portal disappeared! Kael, you SON OF A GUN, what did you do?!
KAEL (defensive):
I didn't DO anything! I just walked into what I thought was a maintenance tunnel and—okay, I'm sorry! I guess we have to find another way out now. Instead of pointing fingers, maybe focus on survival, and also, this is YOUR fault!
LILLIAN:
MY FAULT?!
KAEL:
You have EYES! Functional, working eyes! Why did you follow me down here without saying something was wrong?!
Lillian raised her hand as if to smack him. Kael couldn't see it, but he could hear her arm moving and tensed.
She stopped herself. Slowly lowered her hand. Took a deep breath.
LILLIAN (through gritted teeth):
We'll discuss your many, MANY flaws if we survive this.
The temperature dropped suddenly, dramatically. Both of them froze.
A voice echoed through the tunnel, deep and dark and reverberating from everywhere and nowhere at once.
VOICE:
What the hell do you think you are doing here?
The walls began to pulse with brighter purple light. Shadows coalesced in front of them, gathering mass and substance. Something massive was forming.
Kael and Lillian moved instinctively to stand back-to-back.
LILLIAN (terrified whisper):
Kael, I don't have enough control yet. Athena is still Tier 1. I can barely manifest her for more than a few minutes. I can't fight something in a dungeon. I'm not ready for—
KAEL (gripping his walking stick like a weapon):
Then we run. On my mark—
The shadow finished taking form.
It was a Hollow, but different from the mindless beasts that typically poured through rifts. This one had coherence. Intelligence. Its form was vaguely humanoid but wrong in ways that hurt to perceive. Its eyes glowed with malevolent awareness and something worse, recognition. It knew they were there. It knew they were weak.
HOLLOW:
Humans in MY domain. Intruders will be CONSUMED.
It lunged forward with impossible speed.
Lillian screamed. Kael raised his stick uselessly. The Hollow's claws descended toward them.
And somewhere deep within Kael, something ancient stirred.
His wrapped eyes began to glow faintly with dark light.
Chapter 2 Ends
NEXT: Chapter 3 - Awakening
In the depths of the dungeon, with death mere moments away, Kael's dormant pact awakens. But the power that saves them carries a price, and the entity bound to him has plans of its own. Meanwhile, Lura Venici's meeting with Levius takes an unexpected turn, and the threads of fate begin to weave together.