The seam spat him out into a narrow corridor, walls damp and flickering with weak torchlight. Riven leaned against the stone, panting. His arm throbbed black to the elbow, the stain pulsing like a second pulse.
He flexed his fingers. They answered slow, as if something else was moving them too. His grin twitched. "Great. My arm's got opinions now."
The tokens in his pouch clinked. Five of them, bright and cold. Enough to buy stew, maybe safety for a night. Didn't feel like a victory.
The knot at his wrist had frayed to threads. He touched it once, then let it fall apart. Worthless memories had carried him, but the Pit had taken more than scraps. It had taken a fear so sharp he wasn't sure what filled the gap it left.
He barked a laugh that came out rough. "Guess I'm fearless now. Or just empty. Same difference."
The corridor bent into a camp. Not the one Kael and Seren had left for — smaller, meaner. A fire crackled low, Walkers crouched around it, eyes sharp, hands too close to blades. They looked up when he entered. Then they looked at his arm.
Whispers rose. "Burdened." "Shadow-marked." "Pit survivor."
Riven rolled his shoulder, made his grin wider. "That's right. Stared the Pit down and walked out with a new tattoo. Who's jealous?"
A man with a scarred jaw spat. "Burden spreads. Keep away."
Riven's grin turned sharp. "Relax. It only bites when I tell it to."
The man flinched, but didn't argue. Riven took his seat by the fire anyway, clinking his tokens loud. "Stew. Biggest bowl you've got."
A bowl came, thin and watery, but warm. He slurped it loud, ignoring the way the others kept their distance.
The shadow in his arm pulsed. For a moment, he thought he saw it ripple across the surface of the stew, dark veins stretching. He gripped the bowl tighter. "Not yet," he muttered under his breath.
He thought of Kael's steady silence, of Seren's sharp scraps. They weren't here. He was alone. The thought should have hurt. Instead, the space where the fear had been felt hollow and cold.
He finished the stew, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Still standing," he said to no one.
The gong rolled faint through the walls, patient and deep.
BOOOONG.
The Walkers froze. Riven only laughed, low and bitter. "Yeah. I hear it too."