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The Bones Beneath

  The deeper Malachai went, the more the dungeon forgot what it meant to mimic reality.

  The hallways twisted like intestines torn from a dying god. Gravity shifted in surges. Sometimes, the floor wasn’t beneath him—it was beside him, or above him, held in place by the will of some maddened architect. The walls no longer just breathed—they watched, clusters of eyes blooming from fleshy bulges, blinking in unnatural rhythms.

  The silence was worse.

  Because it wasn’t truly silent.

  It was listening.

  He descended a ramp of bone that cracked beneath his weight. Beneath each footfall, he heard whispers—childlike voices murmuring prayers in reverse. The Veil around him pulsed with unease.

  The next chamber opened like a mouth.

  Inside, the floor was slick with black moss and half-digested corpses. Chained to the ceiling by sinew cords hung a Moaning Briar—a bloated humanoid mass, thorned vines growing from its belly and wrapping around shattered ribcages. Its arms were replaced with tendrils tipped in serrated petals. A blindfold of stitched flesh covered its eyes.

  It heard him.

  It screamed.

  The walls vibrated. Malachai stumbled as the briar flung a barrage of bone-thorns at him. He slid into a patch of cover and countered with Crimson Hookstep, dashing forward and slicing across one of its arms.

  Predatory Insight surged to life—revealing the root bulb buried in its lower spine.

  He danced through a lash of vine, ducked under a flailing tendril, then leapt—driving both claws into its back and twisting.

  The creature howled. Blood and sap sprayed in steaming jets. It flailed, crashing into the wall.

  He clung to its back, using his weight to drag it down. Then he struck the bulb again—until it burst like a rotten fruit.

  The Briar collapsed.

  Malachai rolled free, panting.

  He wrenched open its chest cavity, digging through viscera until his fingers closed around something hard. He pulled free three mana crystals, fused together in a knot of nerve tissue.

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  He sheared them apart with a claw.

  ? Mana Crystals Gained (3) Trait Fragment Acquired: Moaning Briar (1) +1 Vitality

  The crystals pulsed with heat.

  He pocketed them.

  The dungeon shifted again.

  He moved through tunnels where the walls were made of stacked skulls, each whispering the name of the person they once were.

  Next came the Stilted Seer.

  It crawled from a hole in the ceiling—a centipede-shaped creature with a human torso fused to its front. The head was featureless save for a massive eye that split vertically across its skull. Runes flickered beneath its translucent flesh.

  It saw him.

  And he forgot where he was.

  The dungeon spiraled. His thoughts fractured. He saw himself as a child. As a corpse. As a beast. The Seer reached for him.

  Dread Pulse (Tier II).

  The scream ripped out of him, shattering the vision.

  The Seer reeled.

  Malachai flared Shade Step, blinking behind the creature and slamming his claws into its spine.

  Predatory Insight revealed a glowing cluster of runes beneath its ribs. He sliced it open with surgical precision.

  The creature collapsed, twitching.

  ---

  ? Trait Fragment Acquired: Stilted Seer (1) New Passive: Veil-Shattered Mind Increased resistance to psychic effects and illusion-type magic. Memories harder to tamper.

  He tore three crystals from its chest, still slick with brain fluid.

  He washed his hands in a stream of blood.

  The next hall was lined with tongues.

  Dozens of them, nailed into the wall. They writhed as he passed. Licked the air. Whispered secrets of the dungeon.

  He ignored them.

  Ahead—massive double doors made of fused femurs and melted faces. A boss chamber.

  The air was thicker.

  The light darker.

  He felt the Veil tremble.

  Something waited behind those doors.

  Something ancient.

  Something hungry.

  Malachai stared at it.

  Then grinned.

  And stepped forward.

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