Chapter 26 – Descent into Emberfold
The light of the surface faded behind them — swallowed by the earth.
Only the crimson veins guided their path now, glowing faintly beneath the rock like the slow pulse of buried fire.
The trio moved in silence.
Every step echoed through the narrow shaft, swallowed almost instantly by the dense air. Even their Qi — normally bright, alive, responsive — felt smothered here. Each breath came heavier, every motion slower, as though the air itself resisted their presence.
Vaibhav walked in front, eyes sharp, hand brushing the rocky wall. It was warm — alive.
That steady rhythm beneath his palm hadn't stopped since the crater.
Thud… Thud… Thud…
The pulse. Louder now. Closer.
"Light," Vaibhav murmured.
Shin tapped the side of his wrist-watch, the screen flickering before a beam of white light stretched forward.
The narrow tunnel blazed to life.
Then they saw them.
Beasts — dozens of them — embedded into the walls.
Their bodies half-melted into the stone, frozen mid-roar, eyes hollow yet filled with an echo of terror. The detail was perfect — scales, claws, teeth — fossilized by something far beyond natural heat.
Alicia knelt beside one, brushing its surface with gloved fingers. "These aren't fossils," she whispered. "They're preserved. Qi signatures locked inside solid rock."
Shin swallowed hard. "Something flash-froze them with energy."
"Or something's feeding through them," Vaibhav said quietly. His voice carried a weight that made both of them glance up.
For a moment, none of them spoke. The air thickened again — denser, heavier — as if their words might awaken something listening in the dark.
They continued downward.
The tunnel twisted like the throat of some ancient beast. Veins of crimson crystal cut through the black stone, pulsing faintly under Shin's flashlight. Each vein glowed in rhythm with the same deep heartbeat beneath their feet.
Alicia adjusted her visor, readings flickering across her display. "These aren't standard Qi conduits. The energy flow is nonlinear — it's looping, recirculating."
Vaibhav frowned. "Like it's alive."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Exactly like that."
The deeper they went, the quieter it became. Even the sound of their boots dulled. No echo, no hum — just the low vibration of the pulse running through the stone.
At one point, Shin waved a hand before his face. "Anyone else feel that? The air's… heavy, like it's trying to listen."
No one answered.
The passage widened suddenly. The tunnel spat them into an open void — a chamber vast enough to hold a fortress.
Their lights swept across a storm of color: swirling mists of distorted Qi danced in slow spirals above a glowing fissure. Red and black energy wove together like smoke and liquid flame, bending the air around it.
Alicia's scanner shrieked and died.
She stared, wide-eyed. "The Qi's unstable… No, it's reversing polarity on its own. That shouldn't even be possible!"
Shin took a cautious step forward. "So… what the hell is this place?"
Vaibhav didn't answer. He stood still, eyes half-closed.
The heartbeat had changed.
It wasn't just in the ground anymore. It was in his chest, his throat, the tips of his fingers.
It pulsed through him.
He inhaled sharply. "It's right beneath us."
Alicia turned toward him. Her voice was almost reverent.
"This place isn't natural," she whispered. "It's… gestating."
The chamber fell silent.
Then, deep below, something moved.
A faint hum rippled through the floor — low, resonant, almost melodic. The crimson veins along the walls flared brighter, flooding the chamber in bleeding light.
Dust fell from the ceiling. The pulse grew faster.
Thud… Thud… Thud…
Shin raised his head, eyes wide. "That's not an echo anymore—"
Before he could finish, the ground shuddered, a long, deep vibration that made every crystal in the walls shimmer.
The hum grew louder, until it wasn't sound anymore — it was pressure, vibrating in their bones.
Vaibhav looked down, his expression hardening as the rhythm inside him synchronized with the one below.
A single thought clawed its way into his mind, unbidden yet clear.
> "It's waking up."
The earth answered with a final, heavy pulse —
and the crimson light went out.