"If this was the night Ashring broke, it would do it over my body."

That sounded great in my head. Heroic. Stoic. The kind of line you put on a statue after the moss grows over the dates.

In reality, it meant I had to stop running away from the explosion and start running toward it.

We hit the north lane barricade hard. Cinders was already shouting, herding the younger kobolds and the two she'd dragged from the kitchen into the shelter of the reinforced mosscrete wall. Flick scrambled up the side, his bell jingling frantically as he checked the rear.

"They're not following!" he yelled. "They stopped at the crater!"

I slumped against the wall, chest heaving, lungs burning like I'd inhaled half the forge. The youngest kid I'd carried slid to the ground, clutching my tunic, eyes wide and wet.

"Safe," I wheezed, patting his head. "You're safe."

Cinders was already doing a headcount. "Three from the kitchen. Two from the supply line. Mottle's group is..." She paused, looking around. "Where's Relay?"

The question hung in the air like smoke.

I looked back toward the east. Toward the signal post. Or where the signal post used to be before the ground ate it.

"He's fast," Flick said, dropping down beside us. "He's the fastest runner we have. He probably got out the back window."

"The back window faces the ridge," I said. "The ridge that collapsed."

Silence.

The system, helpful as a hole in a boat, decided to chime in.

[Squad Status: Split]

[Unit 'Relay': Signal Lost]

[Unit 'Splitjaw': Signal Intermittent]

[Recommendation: Consolidate Defensive Lines]

"Consolidate this," I snarled.

I pushed off the wall. My legs protested. My shoulder, throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

"Cinders," I said. "Get them to the deep shelter. Bitterstack is holding the inner door. Don't stop for anything."

Cinders narrowed her eyes. She gripped her dented frying pan like a warhammer. "And you?"

"I'm going back."

"To the pit?" Flick squeaked. "Boss, that thing swallowed a building. It's not a room anymore, it's a mouth."

"Splitjaw hasn't checked in either," I said, checking my weapon. The Sovereign's First Flame hummed against my palm, warm and angry. "If they're alive, they're trapped. If they're dead..."

I didn't finish the sentence. I didn't have to.

Cinders looked at me. Then she reached into her apron, pulled out a small, foil-wrapped bundle—one of the hero rations—and shoved it into my hand.

"Bring them back," she said.

I managed a cracked smile. "Deal."

I turned and ran back into the dark.

***

The closer I got to the East Sector, the quieter it got.

And I don't mean peaceful quiet. I mean the kind of quiet that happens when the air has been sucked out of a room. The usual background hum of the dungeon—the distant drip of water, the settling of stone, the scuttle of bugs—was gone.

Replaced by a high-pitched, tooth-aching whine.

System ping.

[Proximity Alert: Structural Void Detected]

[Mana Density: Critical]

[Warning: Substructure Exposure]

I vaulted over a buckled section of the tannery path. The stones here weren't just broken; they were bent. Warped. Like someone had taken the hallway and twisted it like a wet rag.

"Splitjaw!" I yelled into the gloom. "Report!"

No answer.

The shout-line was dead here. The air was too thick with static. Even the moss on the walls had turned a sickly, pale grey, drained of color.

I slowed down, weapon drawn. The First Flame didn't roar; it growled low in its throat, the way a dog growls at an empty corner.

Then I saw him.

Splitjaw wasn't standing guard. He wasn't fighting.

He was half-buried.

A massive section of the tunnel arch had come down, pinning him against the far wall. A slab of rock the size of a cart was wedged across his legs. He was covered in dust, his armor scraped down to the metal, his spear snapped in half in his hand.

He looked up as I approached. His face was a mask of grit and green blood, but his eyes were clear. Furious, but clear.

"Took you long enough," he wheezed.

I dropped to my knees, shoving my shoulder against the slab. "Shut up. Push."

"Can't. Leg's... pinned. Think the bone's cracked."

"Then I'll do the heavy lifting. You just scream if it hurts."

I channeled the relic. Heat flooded my muscles—not burning, just strengthening. Sovereign's strength. I gritted my teeth and heaved. The stone groaned. Shifted an inch. Two.

Splitjaw roared, dragging himself free in a spray of gravel and cursing. He collapsed against the wall, clutching his leg.

"You okay?" I asked, panting.

"I'm mad," he spat. He used the wall to haul himself upright, wincing but standing on one good leg. He pointed deeper into the tunnel. "The Post. It's gone, Boss. The whole thing. Just... gone."

"I saw it fall."

"Did you see him?"

I went cold. "Relay?"

Splitjaw shook his head. "I was coming down the ridge when it hit. Saw the ground open up. Saw the roof go. Didn't see him come out."

"Can you walk?"

"I can fight," he growled. "Walking is optional."

"Good enough."

We moved forward together. Limping. Bleeding. Stubborn.

The tunnel didn't end. It just stopped existing.

We stepped out onto a ledge that shouldn't have been a ledge. It should have been the floor of the East Relay Post. There should have been a table here. A stool. A stack of runner tokens.

Instead, there was a hole.

A massive, jagged wound in the earth, easily fifty feet across, cutting down through layers of dungeon strata I didn't even know we had. The edges were raw, glowing faintly with leaked mana that hissed as it evaporated.

The whine was deafening here. It wasn't sound; it was the scream of reality trying to knit itself back together and failing.

"Relay!" I shouted. My voice sounded thin, swallowed instantly by the void.

I scanned the pit. Darkness. Dust. Debris caught on jagged spurs of rock.

"There," Splitjaw said, pointing with the broken shaft of his spear.

My eyes followed the line.

Way down. Maybe forty feet. A narrow shelf of rock jutted out from the wall, protected by a slight overhang.

And huddled on it, pressed so tight against the stone he looked like a moss-lump, was a small figure in a red sash.

"He's alive," I breathed.

"For now," Splitjaw said, his voice grim. "Look lower."

I looked.

The bottom of the pit wasn't empty.

It was moving.

A carpet of pale shapes boiled in the deep dark. Hundreds of them. Substructure dwellers. I'd seen one or two before—blind, many-limbed horrors that scavenged the deep roots. But never a swarm. Never this many.

They were surging up the walls of the sinkhole like inverted water. Clicking. Hissing. Pale limbs hooking into the stone.

And Relay was the only meat on the menu.

"We need a rope," I said, frantically patting my belt. "I don't have a rope. Do you have a rope?"

"I have a broken spear," Splitjaw said. "And a bad leg."

"Helpful. Thanks."

The swarm was rising fast. The first few crawlers were already cresting the lower spurs, mandibles snapping at the air. Relay had spotted them. I saw him stand up, backing away until his heels hit the void. He held his stylus like a dagger.

He was going to die.

He was going to die alone in a hole because I sent him to fix a signal.

"No," I whispered.

The system pinged.

[Quest Updated: Retrieval Operation]

[Hazard Level: Fatal]

[Chance of Success: 14%]

Fourteen percent.

"That's terrible odds," Splitjaw noted, looking over the edge.

"I know."

"We're going to jump, aren't we?"

I looked at him. At the blood on his face. At the way he leaned on the wall but gripped his broken weapon like he was ready to kill a god.

"I'm going to jump," I said. "You're going to cover the top."

"Like hell," he snarled. "You jump, I jump. That's the deal."

"Your leg is busted, you idiot! You can't land that!"

"Watch me."

"Splitjaw—"

"Sovereign," he cut me off. He didn't use the title often. "You light the way. I watch your back. That's the deal."

I looked at the swarm. They were twenty feet from the ledge.

I looked at Relay, who was now throwing rocks at the climbing horrors.

I looked at the fire in my hand.

"Fine," I said. "Try not to die on impact."

"You first."

I drew the Sovereign's First Flame. The fire erupted—not the polite glow of the village, but a roar of orange and gold defiance. It lit up the pit, casting long, jagged shadows against the walls. The crawlers hissed, recoiling from the sudden light.

"RELAY!" I screamed. "HEADS UP!"

And I jumped.

Gravity is a harsh mistress, but adrenaline is a hell of a drug.

The air rushed past me. The light of my sword trailed like a comet. I aimed not for the ledge—too small, I'd bounce off—but for the wall just above it.

I hit hard.

My claws dug into the stone, carving deep furrows as I slid. Sparks flew. My shoulder screamed in protest. I ground to a halt ten feet above the shelf, hanging by one hand and sheer panic.

"Boss?!" Relay's voice cracked, looking up.

"Grab on!" I yelled, dropping the last few feet and landing beside him. The impact shook the precarious shelf. Dust rained down.

Relay stared at me. "You... you jumped into a hole."

"I'm improvising! Where's Splitjaw?"

A roar from above answered me.

Splitjaw didn't slide. He fell like an anvil.

He slammed into a crawler that had climbed too high, riding it down past us and crashing into the swarm below with a wet, crunching thud.

"SPLITJAW!"

"I'M GOOD!" his voice bellowed from the darkness below. "SOFT LANDING!"

"THAT WAS A MONSTER!"

"IT WAS SOFT!"

The swarm, momentarily confused by the raining kobolds, regrouped. The hissing grew louder. A tide of pale limbs surged toward Splitjaw, and another wave started climbing toward us.

"Okay," I said, breath coming fast. "New plan. We survive."

Relay nodded frantically, clutching his stylus. "I like that plan. That's a good plan."

I raised the First Flame. The fire illuminated the pit, revealing the nightmare we were standing in. The walls were alive with them. Blind faces. Clicking jaws.

And somewhere below, Splitjaw was laughing.

"COME ON THEN!" he roared, the sound of his spear snapping bone echoing up the shaft. "I'M NOT DONE YET!"

I grinned. A wild, terrifying, stupid grin.

"Neither are we," I whispered.

[Combat Initiated: Substructure Swarm]

[Objective: Survive. Ascend. Don't Look Down.]

I looked down.

"System," I muttered, tightening my grip on the burning sword. "You and I are going to have a very long talk if we get out of this."

[System Note: Noted. Good luck.]

I swung the blade, and the fire roared back.

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