The first step swallowed the sound of my boots.The second took the moonlight from my shoulders.By the third, the forest was gone.
The spiral staircase was carved from black stone, slick beneath my fingers, damp as if it had been weeping for centuries. The air thickened with every turn, heavy with the scent of rot and something metallic.
Behind me, the opening to the surface closed, roots knitting together until no trace of the forest above remained. I didn't bother looking back. The way out no longer mattered.
The Nameless God spoke, but not as a voice in my ear. This time, it was inside the stone.Every empire has roots. Yours was watered with blood.
I didn't answer. Words with it were dangerous—they gave it room to press deeper into my mind.
The staircase ended in a narrow tunnel that forced me to lower my head. The walls pulsed faintly, like veins under pale skin. Water dripped somewhere ahead, each drop echoing far longer than it should have.
I moved forward, one hand on my sword, the other brushing the wall. The stone was warm.
The tunnel opened into a chamber so vast I couldn't see the ceiling. Dozens of stone pillars rose from the ground, each carved into the shape of kneeling figures—men, women, and children—their heads bowed as though waiting for a command. Their faces were worn smooth, but their posture was unmistakable: submission.
This is the first city, the Nameless God whispered. Buried so the living would forget who built the thrones above.
Something shifted in the darkness.Not the scrape of claws, but the sound of metal sliding against stone.
From between the pillars, a figure emerged—tall, draped in black cloth stitched with silver threads. A hood shadowed its face, but I saw the glint of a blade in its hand. The metal caught the faint glow from the walls, and for a heartbeat, I thought it was wet.
"You shouldn't be here," it said. Its voice was quiet and unhurried, but it carried across the chamber.
I didn't move. "Neither should you."
The figure tilted its head slightly, like a predator considering a smaller animal. "You carry its scent. The roots have marked you."
I drew my sword. "Then you know not to stand in my way."
It stepped closer, the silver blade lowering to its side. "I am not here to stop you. I am here to see if you are worth letting live."
The Nameless God's voice coiled through me. Kill them. Take their blood. I hunger.
The figure lunged, silver flashing in the dark.