Eden crouched before the slab, one hand pressed against the stone. His gaze stayed fixed on the lines carved into the floor — a perfect circle crossed by a single line. The rock throbbed faintly beneath his fingers, as if something alive pulsed beneath it. He no longer knew if it was real or just his mind playing tricks on him — but it was all he had left. A sign, a heartbeat, a reason to keep breathing.
Behind him, Anabelle was still fighting. Her flames, once bright, had dimmed. Her face was blackened with soot, her hands smeared with blood, her breath ragged. Every monster she cut down seemed immediately replaced by another, rising from the red mist. Still, she kept going — by reflex, by anger, or simply because she refused to die here.
When she saw Eden still kneeling motionless before the slab, something inside her snapped.
— "Eden!" she shouted, her voice hoarse. "This is pointless! We're wasting time, do you hear me? We should find Lucas — or at least a place to hide. We can't last much longer like this!"
He didn't move. His fingers traced the engravings, following the grooves of the symbol.
— "He's too far," he murmured. "And even if he's still alive, he can't help us now."
— "You're talking nonsense!"
— "No."
He finally lifted his head, his eyes wide, pupils dilated.
— "This thing… I can feel it vibrating."
Anabelle frowned, incredulous.
— "Vibrating? It's a damn slab of stone, Eden! We need to get out of here, not dig our way to hell!"
He turned toward her at last. His eyes gleamed with a strange light — not madness, not rage — just a cold conviction.
— "If this door opens, we can escape," he said quietly, firmly. "It's our only way out, Anabelle. The only one."
She froze, mouth slightly open, unable to answer. Around them, the ground still trembled. Fragments of rock crumbled into the lake, swallowed by the red matter boiling at the surface. Everything felt on the verge of collapse.
A roar burst behind them.
A creature emerged from the mist — tall, gaunt, bones jutting through gray skin, eyes glowing like molten coals. Anabelle spun, dagger in hand. The clash was brief. Her blade slit the beast's throat, cutting through swollen mana-filled veins. Blood sprayed — thick, burning — splattering the slab behind her.
The liquid slid across the stone… then sank into it. Absorbed. Devoured.
Anabelle stepped back, stunned. The creature's body emptied within seconds, shriveling like dried skin. The cross at the circle's center pulsed with a crimson glow. One beat. Then another.
— "You see?…" Eden breathed, eyes wide.
His voice trembled, but his expression was eerily calm.
— "It's reacting. It's answering."
Anabelle didn't know what to say. Part of her wanted to run. The other part couldn't move. Eden was already in motion. He crawled toward another corpse, grabbed it by the shoulders, and dragged it to the slab. His movements were slow, deliberate, almost ritualistic. Blood spilled again, mingling with the first, seeping into the carved lines. The light grew stronger.
— "Eden, are you sure about this?! It could be dangerous…"
He didn't respond. His hands shook, his lips moved soundlessly. She stepped closer, tried to pull him back, but he shoved her away with a sharp motion.
— "You want to get out of here or die here?!" he yelled. "Then help me!"
His tone froze her. It wasn't madness she heard — it was fear. Pure, raw fear. The kind that makes men do anything. She clenched her teeth and backed off. The monsters were closing in again. So she did what she did best — she fought. Her flames came back, weaker, but still alive. Behind her, Eden kept going. Corpse after corpse, he dragged them, drained them, the slab soaking in red.
The entire symbol now pulsed violently. Light spread through the ground, tracing glowing veins across the earth. The air vibrated, saturated with energy. And then — everything stopped.
The beasts charging toward them froze, trembling. Then, in a chaos of shrieks, they turned around. All of them. They fled into the mist, as if something at the circle's center had just reminded them what fear was.
Anabelle stood still, chest heaving.
— "What the hell, Eden? What did you do?!"
He slowly raised his eyes to her. The red light shimmered across his skin, reflected in his pupils.
— "Our way out," he whispered.
The slab cracked. A deep rumble shook the ground. The circle split open, releasing a crimson radiance that flowed downward like living liquid. The cross turned slowly on itself, sinking into the rock.
A breath rose from the pit — hot, thick with ash, metal… and something else.
Something alive.
Anabelle grabbed his arm.
— "Eden… you're not actually going to—"
He didn't even look at her.
— "We don't have a choice," he said simply.
The ground gave way beneath their feet. A cry, a rush of air — then nothing. The world tilted. They fell into the world's depths.
They weren't really falling — they were gliding.
The air carried them, fluid and warm, as if it refused to let them crash. Around them, the red light flowed slowly, dense as liquid blood, painting spirals and vague shapes along the walls. At times, Eden thought he saw faces — maybe bodies — embedded in the rock. He couldn't tell if it was real, or just his exhausted mind playing tricks.
Their descent slowed further.
The beat of his heart matched the ones he felt in the air — deep, muffled pulses that seemed to resonate through his bones. And then, finally, their feet touched solid ground.
The stone was dark, smooth, laced with crimson veins. With every pulse, the lines flared briefly, casting fleeting red glows on the walls — as if something unseen flowed beneath them, alive, breathing.
The chamber they had landed in formed a vast dome. The walls, coated with a mix of dust and organic matter, looked alive. The air was warm, almost damp, thick with the smell of iron and salt.
Each heartbeat of the veins lit fragments of the space — frescoes, symbols, sculpted faces, half-erased forms. And in those intervals of shadow, Eden felt silence. Not real silence — more like waiting. As if the cavern itself were listening.
He placed his hand on the ground. The stone trembled faintly beneath his palm, rhythmic.
It's breathing, he thought.
— "I hope you're right," murmured Anabelle beside him. "And that we didn't just dive straight to our deaths."
— "Staying up there would've killed us anyway," he said without looking up. "I hope you know that. We'll make it out. Don't worry."
She let out a tired smile.
— "I liked you better when you were pessimistic. At least I could complain."
Eden didn't answer. He kept watching the glowing veins under their feet, fascinated by the slow rhythm of the light — the heartbeat of a giant buried beneath the earth.
Then, suddenly, a noise echoed above them.
A rumble — then a voice, muffled, metallic:
— "Heavy strike! Double hit! Heavy strike!"
Anabelle snapped her head upward, eyes gleaming with sudden hope.
— "Lucas… he's alive!"
Eden didn't have time to reply. A shadow passed above the pit they had fallen through. A silhouette leapt into the void, carried by the same red current that had guided them. Lucas descended slowly, his body surrounded by shimmering reflections, until his boots touched the ground before them. He was panting, covered in dried blood and dust, sword still drawn. His gaze was hard — almost hostile.
— "How the hell did you get here?" Anabelle asked, disbelief in her voice.
— "Followed the red light," he said between breaths. "Cut through dozens of monsters. Not thanks to you, that's for sure."
He turned toward Anabelle, scanning her up and down.
— "Especially not you."
Eden didn't even lift his eyes.
— "Bold."
— "What?" Lucas frowned.
— "I said it's bold to blame Anabelle after what you did to Valentin."
The silence that followed hit like thunder. Lucas stepped forward, hand tightening on his sword's hilt. Eden met his gaze without flinching. The fear was gone. All that remained was a fatigue so deep it had smothered everything else.
— "Say that again, I dare you."
Before he could take another step, Anabelle moved between them. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed gently.
— "Stop," she said firmly. "We're not killing each other now. We're three alive. That's already a miracle. So appreciate it."
Lucas looked away, jaw clenched, then slid his sword back into its sheath with a sharp click.
Silence returned — broken only by the steady throb beneath the floor.
Eden leaned back against a wall, drained.
— "We should rest. Just for a few minutes."
Lucas scoffed.
— "Bad idea. If those things come back, you're the one holding them off?"
Eden shrugged, saying nothing.
He already knew no monster would return. He had felt it the moment they stepped in — this chamber inspired fear, a primal instinct to flee. Something in these stones… something far older than them.
Lucas sighed, exasperated, and walked ahead.
— "Do what you want. I'm moving on."
His footsteps echoed down the corridor, swallowed by the dark.
Anabelle stayed still a moment longer, then slipped Eden's arm over her shoulder to help him walk.
— "Come on. Before he gets himself killed, we might as well follow."
Eden gave a faint, weary smile.
— "Good logic."
They walked slowly through the tunnel. The walls seemed to breathe around them. The red veins lit up at intervals, casting their shadows across the stone. With each pulse, the light spread through the cracks like a living wave before fading back into the depths.
Their breath merged with that of the place, and Eden found himself thinking — without realizing it: That heartbeat… it's not the ground. It's the world itself. It's still alive.
And as the light ahead grew stronger, they understood they were nearing the center.