The fall was violent, an uncontrollable plunge into the unknown. The screeching of the Cyphlopod echoed around them, its massive form twisting, writhing in the freefall, its eye flaring with panicked light.
Ciel could hear Gorrug laughing, yelling in unfiltered exhilaration, because of course the big bastard would be enjoying this. The others? Scattered, lost in the descent, the rush of wind and collapsing stone drowning out everything else.
And then…
Water.
But not filthy water.
Not the thick, putrid sludge of the upper sewers.
This was clear. Cold. Endless.
The impact ripped the air from her lungs, her body hitting the surface hard, the force of it vibrating through her bones. The world went silent for a moment, save for the deep hum of the abyss surrounding her, the crushing weight of the water pulling her deeper.
She sank fast, limbs weak, disoriented. She wasn’t dead—not yet—but she felt it. The heaviness. The exhaustion clawing at her muscles.
Her vision blurred, the light above a distant, refracted glow.
She could still see them, her team crashing into the depths, shadows against the soft shimmer of the water.
And beyond them?
The Cyphlopod.
It floundered, its limbs curling, its eye darting wildly.
It looked confused.
Not just injured, terrified.
Ciel watched, body floating weightless in the deep, holding her breath as still as possible.
[NOTIFICATION:]
[You have entered The Lost — Realm of the Forbidden. Access Granted.]
The message flickered in her vision, a strange white glyph pulsing like a heartbeat. She blinked, barely registering it, an intrusive shimmer on the edge of drowning awareness, then swiped it away without thought. Just noise. Another hallucination from the pressure.
The Cyphlopod started swimming.
Not toward them.
It was trying to escape.
And that’s when she saw them.
Shadows from above.
Dark forms, massive, alien, moving with slow, eerie grace through the water.
Three of them.
Whales?
But not whales.
They had wings. Long, sleek, feathered appendages that extended from their backs, moving like liquid shadows, rippling against the deep. Their bodies were enormous, sleek but powerful, their eyes glowing with something too intelligent, too ancient.
The Cyphlopod let out a guttural, warped screech, tentacles flaring outward in a last attempt to defend itself.
It didn’t matter.
The first whale lunged.
Teeth, razor-lined, unnatural, rows upon rows of fangs where no whale should have fangs. It clamped down on one of the Cyphlopod’s tentacles, twisting, tearing.
The second and third followed.
It wasn’t a fight. It was a slaughter.
The Cyphlopod fought back, thrashing, coiling, trying to use its sheer mass to crush one of them…
But it was over in seconds.
The beasts tore through it, ripping the tentacles, exposing the soft, writhing flesh beneath. The one eye, the single, unblinking, watching eye that had terrified them moments ago, rolled, twitching, flaring one last time before…
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One of the whales clamped down over it.
And then…
Darkness. Silence.
The Cyphlopod was gone.
Ciel felt herself rising now, her body floating upward, toward the glow of the surface. She didn’t move. Didn’t dare disturb the stillness.
The whales did not look at her.
Not yet.
Not yet.
She drifted higher.
The light grew brighter.
She wasn’t sure if she was escaping, or if something was waiting for her at the surface.
Ciel’s team was floating beside her, all of them wide-eyed, silent, still submerged in the water. They had all seen it. The whales, or whatever the hell they were, had ripped the Cyphlopod apart like it was nothing.
The creatures were enormous, their black-and-white bodies sleek and impossibly graceful, their massive, angelic wings spreading wide, beating softly against the air as they moved. They should have looked peaceful, divine even, but Ciel had just seen those mouths tear through a beast they couldn’t even scratch.
Her fingers twitched toward her revolvers, but she held back. The whales didn’t seem to care about them.
Not yet.
Then, slowly, they all drifted toward the surface.
She glanced at her team, all of them mirroring her movements, their gazes flicking between each other, as if to silently confirm that this was actually happening.
They broke the surface almost simultaneously.
Ciel gasped in sharp, fresh air, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted.
The sight that met her made no fucking sense.
They were in a massive cavern.
Massive, as in, an entire goddamn world beneath the world.
The cave stretched farther than her eyes could track, the ceiling so far above them it may as well have been sky. Except… it wasn’t.
It was rock, dark and uneven, yet so far away that the mind refused to comprehend it.
And hanging in that void, circling above them, were the three whales.
Flying. Like birds in an open sky.
Ciel craned her neck, trying to find the hole they had fallen through, but there was nothing. No opening. No sign of the sewer they had been in.
That wasn’t right. That wasn’t possible.
She tore her gaze downward, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the shoreline.
A village. A real fucking village.
It wasn’t large, maybe the size of a small settlement, but there were homes, buildings, lights flickering from windows, footpaths leading up into the darkness.
And people.
People were standing at the water’s edge, staring at them.
And not in welcome.
Bows were drawn back. Spears were raised.
Ciel’s fingers twitched again. Raze had already shifted his stance, subtly moving his sword into position. Sylva’s fingers flexed, magic already humming at her fingertips.
They waded in the water, not moving, not speaking, watching the archers on the shore do the same.
The tension was suffocating.
Then…
A high-pitched, warbling, squeaking, garbling cry.
Ciel’s brows furrowed, confused. The sound was getting louder.
What the fuck was, no....
Her blood ran cold.
She recognized that sound.
Her head snapped upward, just in time to see a small, flailing creature tumbling through the open air above them.
Skrimp.
Skrimp was falling.
Ciel’s mouth opened to shout, to call to him, to do anything…
But before she could react…
One of the whales tilted sharply, its wings beating with a single, powerful thrust.
It moved fast. Too fast.
And then…
It ate him.
One moment Skrimp was falling, squeaking, flailing…
And then there was a massive, gaping maw.
And then there was nothing.
Ciel heard the wet, horrible snap of jaws, the crunch of bone, the final, brief squawk of the war-beast.
And then…
“SKRIIIIIIIIIIIIIMP!”
Gorrug screamed.
It was not a battle cry.
It was a sound of pure, undiluted anguish.
A beat.
Gorrug’s scream of pure anguish still echoed through the cavern, shaking the very air. It was the sound of a warrior who had lost his dearest companion, a soul-shattering cry of grief that seemed to defy the gods themselves.
But then the whale slowed.
Its massive, angelic form glided through the open void above them, its wings folding inward slightly, its sleek black-and-white body twisting as it suddenly… hesitated.
Then, it made a deep, guttural sound.
A shudder.
A sharp, jerking twitch.
Ciel, still frozen in the deep water, could do nothing but stare in growing horror.
The whale heaved.
And then, it heaved again.
“…No fucking way,” Veyra whispered.
Ciel had no idea how whales worked. Hell, she didn’t even know if they were really whales, but she was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be doing… that.
But the horrific reality before her said otherwise.
The whale was retching.
The massive creature shuddered violently, its whole body convulsing mid-air, its wings flaring as it began to wretch with increasing force.
Raze grunted, wading back, staring upward like he wasn’t entirely sure if he needed to dodge something. Sylva just watched in utter disgust, her lips curled.
Then… it happened.
With one final, gut-wrenching heave, the whale vomited.
And out of its gaping maw, covered in thick, glistening bile, flailing wildly in the open air…
Was Skrimp.
The war-beast tumbled through the sky, making that same high-pitched, warbling scream, his useless wings flapping desperately, his stubby legs kicking at nothing.
It was not a graceful return to the land of the living.
Skrimp twisted, turned, flailed, then promptly SMACKED into the water with a massive, wet, slapping THUNK.
A moment of absolute silence.
Then, “A TRUE WARRIOR!”
Gorrug’s anguish flipped to absolute euphoria in an instant. His roar of joy nearly matched his previous scream of sorrow, his fists raised high into the air as he bellowed with the pride of a victorious warlord.
Skrimp broke the surface a second later, making a hideous gurgling sound, completely dazed, floating belly-up but still very much alive.
Ciel just waded there, unable to process what she had just witnessed.
“I....” she started, then stopped, then shook her head violently.
Sylva exhaled sharply, rubbing at her temple with one hand. “I don’t, how did that, no. No, I refuse to think about this.”
Veyra wheezed, half laughing, half horrified.
Miri, at last, let out a soft giggle, tilting her head. “Well, darlings, at least we know Skrimp isn’t digestible.”
Raze, ever the picture of exhaustion, sighed deeply, running a hand over his face.
“I need a drink.”
The people on the shore were still standing there.
Still holding their weapons.
Still watching.
But now?
Now, they looked just as horrified as Ciel felt.
