Aras ran without looking back.
The tunnel stretched ahead of him like the throat of some vast, sleeping beast, its stony ridges scraping against his shoulders as he pushed himself forward. Each breath seared down his throat, raw and scorched, as if he were inhaling powdered embers rather than air. Ash lifted in loose spirals around his feet, stirred by his frantic steps, drifting in the dim glow that pulsed weakly beneath his ribs.
Behind him came the footsteps—uneven, impatient, hungry.
Tok… tok… TOK…
The cadence was wrong for any human.Too light.Too eager.
He felt his inner light flare in panic. A surge of cold brilliance rose into his chest like a tide threatening to break free.
"Not now," he whispered through clenched teeth. "Stay down."
Light Suppression answered like a trembling hand pressed against a fire.The flare dimmed—barely.Barely enough.
But enough for him to keep running.
The tunnel veered downward without warning. Aras stumbled, caught himself on one palm, and rose just in time to see the passage diverge. The left corridor sagged beneath its own weight, stones sliding in slow collapse. The right passage narrowed, ribs of ancient stone pressing inward until barely a man could pass through.
He hesitated.The creature's breath echoed behind him—dry, cracking, unnatural.
A faint tremor ran through the stone to his right.Not a sound.Not a message.Merely a suggestion.
Aras chose the right-hand path.
The passage tightened around him, forcing his shoulders inward. Loose fragments scraped against his clothes; the air thickened until each inhalation felt like a burden. He forced himself deeper, fighting the rising tremor in his legs.
Something cold brushed the back of his neck.
He froze.
Not wind.Not imagination.A predator's breath, eager and close.
Then—movement in the wall.
A shadow shifted beneath the stone's surface, forming the suggestion of a face. The contours were faint, refracted through layers of mineral sheen, but he knew them instantly.
Lira.
Her features surfaced like a reflection beneath dark water—watchful, silent, powerless.Aras felt an unexpected warmth stir in his chest: not safety, but the echo of companionship.
The moment shattered as a silhouette lunged onto the ground ahead.
Long limbs.Wrong proportions.And at its center, a rift—like an eye carved into nothingness, faintly glowing with predatory hunger.
The Ashbound inhaled.
The sound resembled a stone reaching its breaking point.
Aras's muscles locked, fear running cold through his veins.
But then the wall beside him hummed.
Soft at first, like a distant heartbeat.Cracks of gray light branched outward, converging into a single symbol that pulsed with an ancient rhythm.
Aras did not recognize it.But his light did.
A cold shiver ran through him as the Ashflare Seed inside his chest answered—one pulse for one pulse.A perfect reflection.
For an instant the world dissolved.Stone, darkness, the creature, even his own breath—all disappeared beneath a rising convergence of light and shadow.
Then his chest erupted in a brief flare.
The tunnel flashed in muted silver.The Ashbound recoiled with a shriek.
Aras threw himself sideways as the stone convulsed, sealing the narrowing gap between them. The creature slammed into the closing passage with a thunder that shook dust from overhead ridges.
Silence followed.But the ash did not settle.
Instead, it drifted upward once more, forming a slow-turning halo around him.The air vibrated.
A message revealed itself in pale motes.
[QUEST COMPLETE — ESCAPE ROUTE]
You escaped.You survived.You suppressed the flare.
The ash tightened, swirling with deliberate purpose.
[PROCESSING STAT UPDATES…]
The motes pressed close—never touching his skin, yet altering something beneath it.
Ash Tolerance +1.His throat ceased burning; the raw sting in his eyes softened.
Light Suppression — Level 1.His inner flare steadied, quieted, grew obedient for the first time.
Ashflare Seed — 3% → 4%.A spark ignited deep within him—small but undeniably stronger.
Psychic Trace (Lira Link).A warmth pulsed through his right side; the awareness of her presence brushed the edge of his mind.
Endurance — Minor Increase.His legs steadied. His breathing deepened.
The ash paused.
Then accelerated.
A new message burned into the air.
[SURPRISE REWARD ACQUIRED]ASHBOUND WHISPER — Passive Level 1
Cold rippled down his spine.Something ancient, cautious, and watchful unfurled within him.
Effect:Aras could now sense any Ashbound creature within one hundred meters.
Not as sound.Not as sight.But as pressure—a shift in the air,a tightening of instinct,a tremor beneath the skin.
A hunter's presence,translated into the body of its prey.
The ash dimmed.
Aras allowed himself a single breath of relief.
Then a roar split the tunnel.
KHHH—RRRAAAAH!
The stone behind him buckled as the trapped Ashbound slammed its weight against it. A hairline fissure cracked open. A bone-like claw forced its way through—long, curved, dripping ash.
Aras stumbled back, heart pounding.
The creature strained to force the gap wider.
The stone resisted.
Cracks webbed across the wall as both forces pushed—
And the tunnel chose.
CRACK!
The stone slammed shut.The creature's arm was severed cleanly,the claw flying into Aras's side of the passage in a burst of drifting ash.
For a moment, it lay still.
Then it pulsed.
A faint, gray luminescence ran through the bones, as though the limb still carried some remnant of will.
Aras could only stare.
The ash rose again, encircling the severed limb.Words began to take shape.
[ITEM DROP DETECTED]
The limb lifted gently off the floor,drawn toward him by forces older than the tunnel itself.
ASHBOUND CLAWBLADE
Organic–Ashborne Weapon
Properties:• Naturally sharp; capable of cutting stone and flesh alike• Enhanced effectiveness against Ashbound• Emits directional tremors that resonate with Ashbound Whisper• Holds faint remnants of fear-based instinct
Passive — Residual Fear Pulse:Nearby Ashbound may hesitate briefly.
The blade hovered in the dim air, waiting.
Aras reached for it.
A cold vibration surged through his fingers the moment he touched it—not rejection,but recognition.
He closed his hand around the bone-hilt.The balance was perfect.The weight belonged in his grasp.
For the first time since awakening in this strange world,Aras felt something close to assurance.
Not victory.Not safety.
But a weapon—and the faint promise that he would not die unarmed.
He turned, the Clawblade pulsing faintly in his hand,and walked deeper into the tunnel's waiting dark.
The ash drifted aside to let him pass.