The corrupted bog water welcomed Nero with treacherous violence that ripped the scream and curses right out of his throat.

He had expected pain. What he hadn't expected was the sheer intensity of it, like being wrapped in a blanket woven from acid and fire. Every inch of exposed skin screamed in protest as the toxic waters worked to dissolve him, to break him down into component parts and scatter them across the murky depths.

Nero kept his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth clamped tight despite the burning need to gasp. Opening either would mean death, or worse. He had seen what the bog could do to a man's insides, and he had no desire to experience it firsthand.

His transformed body cut through the water with surprising efficiency. The muscles in his arms and legs, grotesquely enlarged and powerful, propelled him forward with each stroke. The scales that had formed over his skin provided some measure of protection, though he could feel them cracking and reforming constantly as the corruption in the water battled against the corruption in his flesh.

It was a strange sensation, being dissolved and rebuilt simultaneously.

Nero focused on maintaining forward momentum, keeping his strokes as even as possible. Panic would kill him faster than the water could after all.

He counted each movement in his head, creating a rhythm that kept his mind occupied and away from the screaming nerve endings that begged him to surface and escape.

But there was something else happening beneath the agony.

Strands of energy were seeping into his body through the damaged flesh, threading themselves through muscle and bone.

It was Ein Sof, the same corrupted energy that filled the bog was flowing into him, replenishing his reserves. His body was absorbing the corruption, filtering it, and making it his own.

The realization brought an odd sense of grim satisfaction. Perhaps he has acquired some form of symbiotic relationship with these cursed waters...

Time lost meaning in the murky darkness. Nero swam on, following the disturbances in the water that marked the Bog Golem's passage. The creature had moved through the toxic soup with the confidence of something that belonged here, something that had nothing to fear from the environment that would kill lesser beings in moments.

Nero's lungs began to burn, a different kind of pain from the external dissolution. He would need to surface soon, to take a breath before diving back down. The thought filled him with dread. Breaking the surface meant exposing himself to whatever toxic gases hung in the air above, even potentially losing track of his target.

But there was no choice.

He kicked upward, breaching the surface with as little disturbance as possible. The air that rushed into his lungs was thick with fumes, caustic and bitter. He coughed once, violently, before forcing himself to take slower, more controlled breaths. The skin on his face crackled and reformed, adapting to the new assault.

Through the haze, he spotted the Bog Golem. The creature was hauling itself up onto a landmass ahead, its massive bulk creating waves that rocked Nero where he floated.

An island.

Nero took one more breath, deeper this time despite the pain, and dove back beneath the surface. He swam with renewed purpose now, knowing his destination was close. The water around him grew warmer as he approached, and he realized with growing alarm that the corruption here was more concentrated.

This was not just another patch of bog.

The burns on his body intensified. Flesh that had been slowly eroding now began to rot in earnest, blackening and peeling away in strips. The scales tried to compensate, growing thicker and harder, but even they struggled against the onslaught. Nero gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might crack, pushing through the pain with sheer stubborn will.

Gases rose from the depths below, streams of purple and green and sickly yellow that cut through the murky water like ribbons. They burned where they touched him, adding new dimensions of agony to an already unbearable situation. The toxins seeped into exposed flesh, working their way deeper, threatening to poison him from within.

Nero's vision began to blur. His movements grew sluggish as his body diverted resources away from swimming and toward survival. The Ein Sof flowing into him intensified, but it was no longer enough to offset the damage being accumulated.

He had to reach the island.

With a final desperate surge of effort, Nero propelled himself forward. His clawed hands found purchase on something solid, and he hauled himself up onto the shore with struggling movements.

"Shit!"

He collapsed onto dry land, gasping and shaking.

The burns covering his body were severe. Large patches of skin had rotted away entirely, exposing muscle and bone beneath. The muscle itself was damaged, black with necrosis in places. His healing factor worked frantically to repair the damage, but the toxins in his system fought against it, slowing the process to a crawl.

Nero lay there for long moments, simply breathing and begging his body to hold itself together. Slowly and agonizingly, the worst of the damage began to reverse with new skin growing over the exposed flesh.

The necrotic tissue was sloughed off and being replaced.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked around, what he saw drove all thoughts of pain from his mind.

The island was covered in fungus.

Not just a few scattered growths, but a complete carpet of the stuff. Mushrooms of every conceivable size and shape sprouted from the ground, from fallen logs, from the rocks themselves. Some were small and delicate, others enormous and bulbous. They came in colors that seemed to glow with their own internal light—deep purples and vibrant oranges, electric blues and sickly greens.

And among them, growing in thick clusters, was the Teargail Fungus.

Nero recognized it from the descriptions he had been given. Pale grey caps shot through with veins of dark green, growing in overlapping layers that resembled tiled roofing. The fungus grew everywhere, but the densest concentrations were on the larger specimens, creating formations that looked almost like coral reefs.

This was it. This was what they had come for.

'What the hell is going on?'

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