Silence, thick and heavy as the pulsing flesh around them, descended as they treaded the mysteriously fleshy landscape. The only sounds were the wet, rhythmic contractions of the chamber and Rohan's ragged breathing from the makeshift sled they had hastily assembled from reinforced webbing and salvaged gear. Dragging the massive soldier was a grueling effort, each pull a stark reminder of their vulnerability.
Jaya's eyes kept flicking from Rohan's unconscious form to Aryan, her expression a volatile mix of awe, fear, and a dawning, terrifying hope. "Aryan… what was that?" she finally asked, her voice hushed.
Aryan stared at his hands. They felt normal, but the memory was seared into his mind: the cold, absolute power, the ethereal tendrils of void-stuff, the way reality itself seemed to recoil. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "The Null-Shard… it reacted. It felt like I was becoming the concept of 'Nothing'."
Elian, channeling a subtle energy into Rohan, looked up, his face pale. "It was a manifestation of the void that consumed our world. The Guardian didn't just respect your power; it recognized you as an equal and opposite principle."
The weight of that statement settled on Aryan. He was no longer just a man with a dangerous tool. He was becoming the tool itself.
"We can't stop here," Jaya said, forcing practicality into her tone. She pointed towards a tunnel glowing with a faint, crimson light. "The energy signature is that way. But we need to find a place to regroup. Rohan needs more than just first aid, and you," she said, looking at Aryan, "look like you're about to fall apart."
They moved on, the journey a slow, arduous trek. After what felt like hours, they found a niche in the wall of a smaller, quieter chamber—a pocket of stable flesh that pulsed with a gentle, soothing light. It was shielded by a curtain of thick, fibrous tendrils that offered a semblance of security.
"This will have to do," Jaya declared. "We rest here."
The next few cycles—time measured only by the ebb and flow of the Primordial's bio-luminescence—were a period of forced convalescence. Jaya worked tirelessly, her hands glowing as she knit Rohan's cracked ribs and internal bruising. The big man drifted in and out of consciousness, his mutterings a low rumble of battle strategies and concern for the team.
Elian was by her side offering his assistance anytime she needed it. but most of the time she seemed to be in a trance-like state.
Aryan's recovery was different. He wasn't physically wounded, but his spirit felt scoured. He spent hours in silence, meditating, trying to understand the new connection to the Null-Shard. He practiced on small, isolated concepts in their safe pocket. He would focus on a patch of bioluminescent moss and gently suppress its [Luminosity], dimming it without erasing it entirely. The feedback was a manageable thrum, a far cry from the soul-shattering agony of facing the Guardian. He was learning control, finesse.
It was during one of these practices that he made a discovery. Focusing on the concept of the chamber's [Atmosphere], he didn't suppress it, but instead subtly manipulated the flow of [Oxygen] and [Carbon Dioxide], creating a pocket of cleaner, more breathable air. He had moved from negation to precise manipulation. although it only lasted 15 seconds
"You're getting better," Jaya observed, watching him from where she was checking Rohan's bandages. "More refined."
"I have to be," Aryan replied, opening his eyes. "Brute force almost got us killed. This place… it's too complex to just destroy things. It's a living system."
"A system we need to navigate," she said, unrolling a crude map she'd been sketching on a flexible data-slate. "Based on the energy readings and the flow of the ichor canals, the heart—or a major organ cluster—is deep, that way." She pointed towards the crimson glow. "But it's not a straight path. The topography is shifting. It's nothing like how the human body is. Everything in the primordial verse was simply the coagulation of a devoured world forming into a functional system and pairing itself with the primordial. its internal geography changes as the main core of the primordial ripples outward. Basically, its a real piece of work."
Rohan groaned, shifting on the sled. His eyes fluttered open, clearer this time. "...Guardian?" he grunted.
"Gone," Jaya said, moving to his side. "Aryan… negotiated."
Rohan's gaze found Aryan, a flicker of respect in his pained eyes. "Good. Next time… I'll hit it harder." He tried to sit up, wincing. "How long?"
"Long enough," Elian said. "You are mending, but you are not battle-ready. Your body needs more time."
"Time is a luxury we don't have," Rohan countered, but he slumped back, acknowledging the truth.
Their rest was broken by a new, unsettling phenomenon. A low, melodic humming began to echo through the chambers, a sound that seemed to vibrate directly in their bones. It was beautiful, yet profoundly alien.
"What is that?" Aryan asked, his senses on high alert.
"I don't know," Jaya said, her scanner whirring. "The frequency is strange. It's not a threat signature… it's more like a… broadcast."
The humming grew, not in volume, but in complexity, layering into a haunting, polyphonic symphony. The very flesh of the walls seemed to respond, the bioluminescent patterns shifting and swirling in time with the melody.
Aryan focused his perception, tuning into the web of concepts. He saw it then—the concept of [Resonance], [Memory], and [Communication] woven into the sound waves. "It's not just noise," he whispered, awestruck. "It's a song. And it's telling a story."
He closed his eyes, letting the concepts wash over him. Flickers of imagery, emotions, and sensations flooded his mind—a vast, star-spanning peace, the joy of creation, the slow, patient rhythm of geological time, and then… a sharp, discordant note of pain, of intrusion, of a foreign presence festering deep within.
He saw it. The "Corruption" wasn't a passive decay. It was a thing. An invasive, intelligent entity that had taken root in the Primordial's core, feeding on its life force, twisting its biology to create the K'tharr and the Ravoda from its resident devoured lifeforms.
He gasped, stumbling back. "It's not a fever. It's a parasite. A sentient one."
The humming stopped abruptly, as if a switch had been flipped. The chamber was silent once more, but the revelation hung in the air, heavy and terrifying.
Their mission had just changed. They weren't just trying to survive. They were performing an exorcism on a living universe. Because if the corruption destroyed the primordial verse. Humanity was...
Rohan pushed himself up onto his elbows, his face a mask of grim determination. "A parasite can be cut out."
"Not without killing the host," Elian cautioned. "The connection is too deep. It's intertwined with the Primordial's vital systems."
"Then we find a way to poison it, to make the host's body reject it," Jaya said, her mind already racing through biological possibilities.
Aryan looked at his hands, then towards the deep, crimson glow of the path ahead. The void within him hummed, a cold, dark mirror to the vibrant life around them. A parasite of entropy, feeding on creation. And he, a man who wielded the power of nothing.
"No," Aryan said, his voice low but firm, carrying a new, unsettling certainty. "We don't poison it. We don't cut it out." He met their gazes, his own eyes holding a depth that hadn't been there before. "We sever its supply lines. The song showed us a nexus attached to a lymphatic processor. It's feeding, using the Primordial's own systems against it. We cut that link. We starve it."
He had faced the Guardian. Though he didn't know how it would have played out if it had considered combat. He also didn't know how to trigger the strange form he had in store. He had listened to the Primordial's song and understood its pain. The Flesh Realms were not a hostile environment to be conquered. It was diseased and they just happened to be stuck inside which meant that sooner or later, humanity will be turned into creatures quite possibly worse than the K'tharr and the Ravoda.
Their journey to the heart was no longer a linear mission. It was the beginning of a long, arduous campaign in a living, breathing, and deeply wounded world. And Aryan knew, with a chilling and exhilarating clarity, that they would be here for a very, very long time.