Arc 2, Chapter 19: Together

  Three passages branched from the chamber where bodies lay cooling on blood-slicked stone.

  Kyle turned toward Ash. The arrogance that had defined him since their first meeting had vanished entirely — replaced by an emotion he hadn't expected to see in eyes that had looked at this world as entertainment.

  "We'll do whatever you say." He glanced at the others. "Right?"

  Emma nodded without hesitation. Marcus, still finding his footing after the altar, inclined his head in agreement.

  The dynamic had shifted between them. The cave had stripped away pretense, leaving only the raw truth of who could be trusted when darkness closed in.

  "Marcus." Ash pointed toward the passage behind them. "Watch our backs. Nothing gets close without warning."

  The large man moved into position, retrieving a blade from one of the fallen creatures.

  Kyle stepped closer to Ash, voice low. "Marcus can handle it. His threat detection skill works even without line of sight. And his damage reduction passive—" He glanced back at the big man. "Armor or not, he can take hits better than any of us."

  Ash nodded once. Good to know.

  "Kyle. Between Emma and me. If anything breaks through, you're the wall. She needs room to work—I saw how long those spells take to form."

  He drew his sword. The weapon caught the light of Ash's crimson torch. His hands were steady. His face was serious. Not the same person who'd charged into the forest chasing glory.

  "Emma. Conserve your strength — we may need everything you have before this ends."

  She clutched her staff with hands that still trembled from what she'd witnessed. But she moved into position without complaint.

  Ash took his place at the front.

  The Crimson Eyes remained active. He kept them open deliberately. The training in Thornwood had taught him that much — how to control when they activated instead of letting instinct decide.

  Three passages. Two led deeper into the darkness that even his sight couldn't fully penetrate. The third carried a difference — a faint thread of mana, cleaner than the corruption saturating this place. Pure. Distant. But present.

  He followed it.

  The corridor stretched into darkness that swallowed even the torchlight.

  *How far down did this go*

  Torches lined the walls at irregular intervals — actual flame, rather than the suppression crystals from the chamber above. Their light flickered against stone worn smooth by passage, by time, by things that had walked these tunnels long before goblins claimed them.

  Their footsteps echoed. Too loud. Announcing their presence to anything that cared to listen.

  Behind him, Kyle's breathing had steadied. Emma's had yet to calm — each exhale carried the shakiness of someone holding themselves together through pure determination. Marcus brought up the rear in silence, his bulk filling the corridor's width.

  Heat flared in his chest — the Seed warning him a heartbeat before his eyes caught up.

  Ash stopped.

  The darkness behind them had begun to glow. Faint. Scattered. Dozens of dim cores flickering in the black — corrupted mana signatures clustered together, moving as one.

  Moving toward them.

  "How many?" Kyle's voice came tight.

  Too many. The cores multiplied as he watched. Twenty. Thirty. More emerging from side passages he hadn't noticed. Converging.

  "We can't fight this many." Ash turned. Looked down the corridor ahead. "Move. Now."

  They ran.

  The corridor blurred past. Stone walls. Flickering torches. Shadows that stretched and jumped with each source of light. Their footsteps pounded against stone — loud, desperate, echoing off walls that threw the sound back at them.

  Behind them, the sounds began.

  Scraping. Chittering. The noise of many small bodies moving faster than legs should allow. Claws on stone. Dozens of claws. The rhythm building like rain before a storm.

  Emma's breathing turned ragged. Her robes caught on a jutting stone and she stumbled. Kyle grabbed her arm, hauled her forward, kept her moving.

  The sounds grew closer.

  Ash risked a glance back. The Crimson Eyes showed him shapes in the darkness. Low to the ground. Fast. Gaining with every heartbeat.

  "They're catching up!"

  Three burst from the darkness ahead of the rest.

  Corrupted. Wrong in ways that made Ash's stomach clench. These creatures scrambled on all fours like beasts, spines curved at angles that defied anatomy, heads grotesquely twisted backward on necks that had forgotten their proper orientation.

  Eyes that should have faced forward stared from inverted skulls.

  Two launched themselves at Marcus.

  His arm came up — a shield manifesting from thin air, light coalescing into a barrier.

  "Skill: Reflection Wall!"

  The creatures hit the barrier. Rebounded. Flew backward through the air. But the impact drove Marcus back a step. Then another. His boots scraped against stone. His arm shook from the force.

  The creatures hit the ground. Tumbled. Rose.

  They rose anyway. Limbs bending wrong. Joints clicking. Already coiling to leap again.

  Kyle's hand found his pouch. Three spheres arced through the air — hitting the ground between Marcus and the creatures. Smoke erupted. Thick. Choking. Filling the corridor in seconds.

  "Marcus! Fall back!"

  Kyle grabbed the big man's arm. Pulled. Marcus stumbled backward, shield still raised, retreating through the smoke that hid them from the creatures.

  The third goblin came from the side.

  It had circled. Found a gap. Lunged for Emma with claws extended.

  She screamed. Her staff swung — wild, desperate. Fire burst from its tip. A single bolt of flame caught the creature in the chest.

  It shrieked. Stumbled. Kept coming.

  Ash's dagger found its throat. The body collapsed at Emma's feet, twitching, leaking darkness onto the stone.

  "Move!" Kyle had Marcus now, half-dragging the bigger man. "The smoke won't hold them long!"

  They ran.

  Through the thinning smoke. Past torches that flickered in the disturbed air. The sounds behind them resumed — chittering, scraping, claws on stone. But distant now. Following rather than charging.

  Testing them.

  Watching.

  Waiting for the next opportunity.

  Emma's hands shook so badly her staff rattled. Kyle's breathing came in gasps. Marcus moved under his own power again, but his steps were heavy. Unsteady.

  Ash kept the Crimson Eyes open. Watched the cores in the darkness behind them. Dozens of them. Matching their pace.

  Patient.

  They kept running.

  The corridor opened into a chamber that made Ash's skin crawl.

  Circular. Perhaps thirty paces across. The air hung thick and wet, carrying a sweetness that coated the back of his throat. Old blood. Old death. The smell of a place where things had died many times before.

  Torchlight from the passage behind them reached only a few feet into the space. Beyond that — shadows. Deep and heavy, pressing against the feeble light like something alive.

  Kyle grabbed two spheres from his pouch. His arm snapped back, then forward. The bombs arced through the passage they'd just exited and struck stone.

  Fire erupted.

  The explosion roared through the corridor. Rock cracked. The ceiling groaned — then gave way. Debris crashed down in a cascade of dust and broken stone, sealing the passage shut.

  The chittering behind them went silent.

  Kyle stood watching the dust settle. His chest heaved.

  "That buys us time." He scanned the chamber. "Which way?"

  Emma sagged against her staff. Marcus moved closer to her.

  Ash let the Crimson Eyes sweep the room.

  The chamber stretched upward. Walls of rough stone climbed twice a man's height before reaching a ledge — a second level carved into the rock, running along the edges of the room. Passages opened onto that ledge. Dark mouths leading somewhere deeper. Six of them. Maybe more.

  Ropes hung from the ceiling.

  Dozens of them. They stretched from the darkness above all the way down to the floor. Thick as a man's wrist. Pale and glistening in the torchlight.

  The Crimson Eyes caught something else.

  Corrupted mana clung to the ropes. Faint traces — the residue of flesh, of death, of things that had once been alive. The corruption outlined every strand, every braid, every twist of material. Sinew. Tendons. Woven together from what had been pulled out of bodies.

  Old. Used many times. The corruption had soaked into them over years.

  Ash took a step forward.

  The stone beneath his boot shifted.

  He froze. Pressed down again. The surface looked solid — same grey rock as everywhere else. But it moved under his weight. A faint give. The kind of flex that came from something thin stretched over empty space.

  He tapped his heel against it.

  The sound came back hollow.

  Kyle heard it too. His eyes met Ash's.

  Before either could speak, movement above.

  Goblins poured from the passages on the upper ledge. Grey-green bodies launching themselves over the edge. They dropped to the floor around Ash's group — landing in crouches, claws scraping stone, rising with teeth bared.

  Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.

  A ring of flesh closing around them.

  Blocking every direction. Every exit.

  Kyle's sword came up. The blade shook in his grip.

  Emma pressed against Marcus. clutching her staff with both hands.

  The goblins held position. Twenty pairs of eyes fixed on Ash. On his companions. Waiting.

  Heavy footsteps from above.

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  Ash looked up.

  A shape filled one of the upper passages. It had to turn sideways to fit through the opening. Shoulders scraped stone. When it stepped onto the ledge, dust rained down from the ceiling.

  A goblin warrior.

  Ash had read about these. Texts from his previous life — corrupted nests grown too old, too saturated with tainted mana. Sometimes a goblin fed on that corruption until its body swelled beyond any natural limit.

  This one stood three times the height of its lesser kin. It carried a weapon that matched its scale — a crude mass of metal and spikes, longer than Ash was tall.

  It stepped off the ledge.

  The impact shook the chamber. Stone cracked beneath its feet — solid stone, at the edge of the room, away from the hollow center where Ash and the others stood.

  It straightened. Rolled its shoulders. Let them see its full size.

  Its eyes moved across the group. Face to face. Measuring.

  Then it smiled.

  Ash moved first.

  The Crimson Eyes blazed. Heat gathered in his palm — everything he could pull in a single heartbeat. He hurled it at the warrior's chest.

  Crimson fire struck flesh.

  The warrior's head snapped back. The sound that tore from its throat filled the chamber — pain twisting into rage, rage stretching into something else. A signal. A command. The scream echoed off the walls, off the ceiling, through every passage above.

  The goblins moved.

  Every single one. They leapt for the ropes — claws catching sinew, bodies pulling upward off the floor. Twenty goblins scrambling up the pale strands, climbing away from where they had been standing.

  Ash's stomach dropped.

  The warrior's scream faded. Smoke curled from its chest. Blackened flesh. The wound was real.

  It looked at Ash through the haze.

  It raised one massive foot.

  And brought it down.

  The floor collapsed beneath them.

  The hollow stone gave way beneath them. Ash felt the ground vanish — felt his stomach lurch as darkness opened below. Wind rushed up from the shaft. Emma screamed. Kyle's arms flailed at empty air. Marcus grabbed Emma's wrist and held on as they plummeted.

  Above them, the goblins clung to ropes that stretched down into the shaft. Already descending. Hand over hand. Claw over claw.

  Above the goblins, the warrior stood at the edge of solid stone. Watching them fall.

  Ash twisted in the air. The walls of the shaft blurred past. Wind screamed in his ears. The Crimson Eyes searched for the bottom.

  Found only darkness.

  The shaft swallowed them.

  Wind tore at Ash's clothes. His hair. His eyes. The walls blurred past — stone rushing upward as they dropped. Emma's scream stretched thin in the roaring air. Kyle tumbled beside him, arms reaching for something to grab.

  Above them — the goblins descended.

  They climbed down the ropes. Hand over hand. Claw over claw. The sinew lines stretched from the ceiling down into the shaft, following them into the darkness. The goblins moved with purpose. Quick. Practiced. Closing the distance while Ash's group fell.

  Emma saw them.

  Her staff came up. Fire gathered at its tip — a sphere of orange light casting wild shadows against the shaft walls.

  She released it.

  The fireball struck a goblin mid-climb. Flames spread across its body. It shrieked. Its claws opened. It dropped — tumbling past them, trailing fire, the scream fading as it fell into the darkness below.

  More remained. Still climbing down. Still closing.

  "The ropes!" Ash's voice tore against the wind.

  Kyle understood.

  His hand found his belt. Knives — three of them. His fingers fumbled. Shook. He drew them anyway. His arm snapped forward.

  Steel spun upward. Caught the light from Emma's flames. Found sinew.

  The first knife cut through. A rope went slack. Two goblins clung to it — their claws tightened on nothing. They fell. Screaming. Bodies spinning past Ash, past Kyle, into the dark.

  The second knife found another rope. More goblins dropped.

  The third missed.

  A goblin lunged downward along its rope — descending faster now, claws reaching for Kyle's face.

  Emma fired.

  The fireball caught it in the chest. The creature's body jerked. Its grip released. It tumbled away, burning, shrieking.

  Ash reached inward. Found the Seed. Let power flow toward Emma's next attack.

  She fired again. Again. Spheres of flame launching upward into the mass of descending bodies.

  The Crimson Eyes transformed them.

  Orange became crimson. The fire spread — jumping from body to body, catching on the ropes that connected them. Sinew burned. Flesh burned. Goblins screamed and fell, trailing smoke and ember.

  The shaft filled with falling bodies. Burning bodies. Screaming bodies. They tumbled past Ash — close enough to feel the heat, close enough to smell the cooking flesh.

  Then silence.

  Wind. Darkness. The four of them dropping toward whatever waited below.

  Ash looked up.

  The ropes hung empty. Burning in places. Swaying in the wind of their passage. The goblins were gone — fallen, burned, dead somewhere in the darkness beneath them.

  Movement above.

  The warrior had jumped.

  Its massive body filled the shaft. Arms pressed against its sides. Legs together. It fell faster than they did — weight pulling it down, closing the distance with terrible speed.

  It caught up in seconds.

  Close enough to see the burned flesh on its chest. Close enough to see its eyes find Emma. The staff in her hands. The fire she had used to kill its hunters.

  It raised its weapon.

  The spiked mass drew back. Muscles tensed along its massive arm.

  It threw.

  The weapon hurtled toward Emma. Spinning. Cutting through the air between them.

  Marcus moved.

  His hand was still on Emma's wrist from when the floor collapsed. He yanked her toward him. Twisted his body. Put himself between her and the incoming steel.

  Light gathered across his skin.

  "Skill: Living Fortress!"

  The spiked mass hit his shoulder.

  The sound was wrong. Wet. Heavy. Even with his skill active — even with his flesh hardened — the impact drove through him. His body folded around the blow. His mouth opened. No sound came out.

  The force sent him spinning. Away from Emma. Away from the group. Into the shaft wall.

  Stone cracked where he hit. His body bounced. Tumbled. Fell away from them — twenty feet of empty air opening between him and the others.

  Emma screamed his name.

  The bottom rushed toward them.

  Ash reached inward. Drew everything that remained from the Seed.

  "Dark Gate: Descent's End."

  Dark energy formed beneath them. Patterns spreading outward — catching their fall, absorbing the impact, pressing against their bodies like water slowing a stone.

  Ash hit the ground. Rolled. Found his feet.

  Kyle landed beside him. His legs buckled. He caught himself on one knee, breathing hard, face pale.

  Emma landed. Her eyes were already searching the darkness.

  "Marcus!"

  Twenty paces away.

  He lay crumpled against the chamber floor. Blood pooled beneath his shoulder — dark, spreading slowly across the stone. His chest rose and fell. Shallow. Uneven. His eyes stayed closed. His face had gone the color of old ash.

  Emma ran to him. Dropped to her knees. Her hands pressed against the wound. Light gathered at her palms — weak, flickering.

  "Stay with me. Marcus, stay with me—"

  The ground shook.

  Ash turned.

  The warrior had landed.

  Impact crater beneath its feet. Dust rising around its massive frame. It stood at the chamber's center. Retrieved its weapon from where it had bounced across the stone. The spiked mass came up — dark with Marcus's blood.

  It rose to full height.

  Eyes finding Ash. Finding Kyle struggling to stand. Finding Emma kneeling over Marcus, her back exposed, her attention elsewhere.

  The burned flesh on its chest still smoked.

  It remembered.

  It charged at Ash.

  The burned flesh on its chest still smoking. The wound Ash had given it before they fell. It remembered. Its eyes fixed on him — rage, pain, hunger for the one who had hurt it.

  Kyle moved to intercept.

  His sword came up. He planted himself between Ash and the charging warrior. The blade caught torchlight as he swung — aiming for the creature's leg, trying to slow it down.

  The warrior's arm swept sideways.

  Armored hide met steel. The sword bounced off like it had struck stone. The impact sent Kyle spinning — his body lifting off the ground, tumbling across the chamber floor. He hit hard. Rolled. Stayed down.

  The warrior kept coming.

  Ash braced himself. The creature filled his vision — massive, fast, closing the distance in three strides. Two strides. One—

  Fire exploded against the warrior's back.

  The impact echoed through the chamber — a deep thud of flame meeting flesh. Orange light flooded the cave, shadows leaping across walls, darkness retreating. The warrior stumbled. Turned.

  "GET AWAY FROM ASH!"

  Emma.

  She stood behind Marcus's body. Staff raised. Face wet with tears she hadn't noticed falling.

  The warrior faced her now.

  And Emma saw Marcus.

  Really saw him.

  The blood pooling beneath his shoulder. The way his chest barely moved. The stillness of his face — the face that had smiled at her an hour ago, that had told her everything would be fine, that had promised they would get through this together.

  *He's not moving.*

  Her staff came up.

  *There's so much blood.*

  Fire gathered at its tip.

  *Is he breathing? I can't tell if Marcus is breathing.*

  She threw.

  The fireball crossed the chamber. Struck the warrior's chest. The explosion lit the cave — orange and red washing across stone, across the creature staggering backward, across Marcus who didn't flinch because Marcus couldn't flinch because Marcus wasn't—

  *No.*

  "YOU DID THIS!"

  She threw again. The warrior's shoulder. The sound wet and deep — flesh splitting, bone cracking beneath heat. The creature's arm jerked. It stumbled.

  *He jumped in front of me.*

  "HE SAVED ME!"

  Another fireball. The warrior's stomach. It doubled over. Smoke rising from the wound.

  *Marcus saved me and now he's—*

  "YOU THREW THAT THING AT HIM!"

  The warrior tried to straighten. Tried to take a step toward her.

  She threw again. Its knee. The leg buckled. The creature dropped — one knee hitting stone, body lurching forward.

  *I'm scared.*

  The thought came from somewhere deep. Somewhere she hadn't let herself look since they arrived in this world.

  *I'm so scared.*

  "DON'T YOU DARE!"

  Another fireball. The warrior's chest. Same spot. Layering damage. It screamed — pain filling the chamber.

  *This world. This horrible world. We're so far from home.*

  "DON'T YOU DARE TAKE HIM FROM US!"

  Her hands had started to glow.

  The heat traveling backward through the staff. Wood darkening beneath her grip. Smoke curling from where her palms pressed against it.

  She felt her skin blistering.

  *I don't care.*

  She threw again.

  The warrior tried to crawl toward her. She hit its face. Its head snapped back.

  *Kyle is hurt. Ash is exhausted. And Marcus—*

  "WE NEED HIM!"

  Another fireball. The warrior's back. It collapsed flat against the stone.

  *I don't want to be alone here.*

  "MARCUS!"

  She was screaming his name now. At the warrior. At the cave. At this world that kept trying to take everything from her.

  *I don't want to be alone in this world.*

  "MARCUS, WAKE UP!"

  The blue panel flickered beside her head. Symbols flashing red. Warning. Warning.

  Blood dripped from her nose. She tasted copper.

  *I don't care.*

  "WAKE UP!"

  The staff was burning now. Actually burning. Flames licking up the wood. Her hands blistering, weeping, skin splitting.

  *It hurts.*

  She threw again.

  *I don't care if it hurts.*

  "WHY WON'T YOU DIE?"

  The warrior lay on the chamber floor. Body covered in burns. Charred flesh. Exposed bone. It tried to lift its head.

  She threw again.

  "DIE!"

  Its face. Flesh peeling away.

  *I'm scared. I'm so scared. Please, Marcus. Please don't leave us alone here.*

  "JUST DIE!"

  Another fireball.

  "DIE!"

  Another.

  "DIE! DIE! DIE—"

  The staff shattered.

  Wood exploded in her hands. Fragments scattering. The fire she'd been channeling burst outward — heat washing across the chamber.

  Emma collapsed.

  Her knees hit stone. Her hands — burned, blistered, ruined — fell to her sides. The blue panel flickered once. Went dark.

  *I can't...*

  *I can't feel my hands.*

  *I don't care.*

  *Marcus.*

  She crawled.

  Dragged herself across stone. Toward the body that wasn't moving. Toward the friend who had smiled at her and promised everything would be fine.

  Her burned hands found his face.

  *He's cold.*

  Left red marks on his skin. Blood and fluid pressing against his cheeks.

  *Why is he cold?*

  "Marcus."

  Her voice came out broken. A whisper.

  "Marcus, please."

  *Wake up.*

  "Please wake up."

  *Please.*

  "Don't leave us."

  *Don't leave me alone here.*

  "Don't leave us alone in this place."

  *I'm scared.*

  "I'm scared, Marcus."

  *I'm so scared and you're the only one who makes it feel okay.*

  "Please."

  *Please.*

  "Please."

  *Please.*

  "Please..."

  Kyle knelt beside her.

  His hand found her shoulder. Gentle.

  "Emma."

  She couldn't hear him. Could only see Marcus. Could only feel the cold of his skin beneath her burned fingers.

  "Emma, let me help."

  Kyle's hand touched his belt. Light flickered. A vial appeared — glass filled with green liquid.

  Ash watched.

  "Where did that come from?"

  Kyle didn't answer. He pulled the stopper. Lifted Marcus's head. Poured the liquid into his mouth.

  "Come on." His voice shook. "Come on, Marcus. Swallow. Please."

  Marcus's throat moved.

  Silence.

  Silence.

  Silence.

  A cough.

  Emma's hands flew back — a cry escaping her as burned flesh scraped against his jaw.

  "Marcus?"

  His eyes opened.

  Unfocused. Searching.

  Found Emma's face above him.

  Found her tears.

  Found her ruined hands hovering over him.

  "Your hands." His voice came out rough. Weak. "Emma, what happened to your—"

  She broke.

  The sound that came from her wasn't crying. It was something deeper. Something that had been building since they arrived in this world and finally found its way out.

  She sobbed against his chest. Great heaving sounds that shook her whole body.

  "I'm sorry."

  The words came between sobs.

  "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  Marcus tried to lift his arm. Couldn't. Too weak.

  "Emma, what—"

  "I thought it was a game."

  She pulled back. Looked at him. Looked at Kyle. Turned to find Ash watching from across the chamber.

  "I thought this was all just... just a game. Levels and points and getting stronger." She wiped her face with her forearm. Smeared tears and blood across her cheek. "Back home, we played games like this. On screens. And when we came here, it felt... it felt the same. Kill monsters. Get rewards. Level up."

  Her voice cracked.

  "I didn't understand."

  She looked at her hands. At the burns that covered them. At the proof of what she'd just done.

  "People die here. Really die. And I just... I treated it like..."

  She couldn't finish.

  Kyle knelt beside her. His face pale. His hands still shaking from everything that had happened.

  "Emma." His voice was quiet. "We all did. We all treated it like—"

  "No." She shook her head. "You saw it first. In that cave, with those... those villagers. You understood before I did. You bowed to Ash and apologized and I just... I thought you were being dramatic."

  She looked at Marcus.

  "And then you almost died. You almost died saving me. And I realized..."

  Her voice broke again.

  "...this is real. All of it. The people, the pain, the death. It's all real. And I've been walking through it like none of it mattered."

  Tears fell down her cheeks.

  "I'm sorry, Ash."

  She turned to him. Met his eyes.

  "I'm sorry for how we treated you. For looking at you like you were just... just some character in our story. You're a person. This is your home. And we've been acting like—"

  She couldn't finish.

  Kyle stood. Crossed to her. Put his hand on her shoulder.

  "We're all sorry." He looked at Ash. "All of us. We should have understood sooner."

  Ash said nothing.

  Just watched them. These heroes from another world. These strangers who had finally started to see.

  Kyle produced another vial. Smaller. Pale blue.

  "For your hands." He held it out to Emma. "Drink."

  She took it. Drank.

  The burns began to fade. Slowly. The blisters retreating. The skin healing.

  But something in her eyes had changed.

  Something that wouldn't heal as easily.

  Marcus pushed himself up. Slowly. Painfully. Kyle moved to help him — got his shoulder under the big man's arm.

  "Can you stand?"

  Marcus tested his legs. Grimaced.

  "With help."

  Ash looked at the warrior's body. Still breathing. Barely. One arm twitching. Legs that wouldn't move.

  He crossed to it.

  The creature's eyes found him. Hatred still burning in them. Even now. Even broken and dying.

  Ash raised his hand.

  "Dark Gate: Void Burst."

  Dark energy gathered. Condensed. Struck.

  The void expanded — pressure crushing inward from all sides. The warrior's body folded. Crumpled. Collapsed in on itself.

  Stopped moving.

  Kyle limped over. Stood beside Ash. Looked down at what remained.

  "Is it dead?"

  Ash didn't answer.

  Just turned away.

  "We need to move."

  Emma stood on shaking legs. Her hands still trembled — healed now, but the memory of pain remained. She looked at the place where her staff had been. Charred fragments scattered across stone.

  "My staff..."

  "We'll find another." Kyle's voice was gentle. "Let's just get out of here first."

  Ash let the Crimson Eyes sweep the darkness ahead. Three passages. Two led deeper into shadow. The third carried something different — cleaner air. A faint breeze.

  "That one." He nodded toward it. "It leads up."

  Marcus leaned on Kyle. Emma walked beside them. Her eyes kept finding Marcus — checking that he was still there, still breathing, still alive.

  They walked.

  Toward the surface.

  Toward whatever waited above.

  Together.