The air changed again.
Not hotter this time.
Thicker. Like something pressed down on the cavern from above.
My claws scraped the floor lightly as I stepped forward, and the shadows under my skin twitched—no reason, just instinct tugging at something.
The tunnel narrowed for a moment, forcing me sideways between two slabs of half-melted stone. Glow seeped through cracks like veins, but dimmer now. More controlled. Like someone shaped the heat on purpose.
And then I heard it.
A low chant.
Not singing.
Not speaking.
Breathing words.
Soft. Rhythmic. Almost like the three-tap signals, but stretched.
Two voices. Maybe three.
I crouched lower without thinking.
A faint shimmer appeared ahead. Movement. Smooth. Controlled.
Shadeborn.
But not scouts this time.
Hunters.
One stepped into the open — tall, spear resting lightly in its hand, mask carved with deeper sigils. Its limbs weren't thin like the watchers. More defined. Balanced. Built for killing.
Another stood further back, hands on the stone wall, tracing slow circles that glowed faintly. A symbol. Ritual? Whatever it was, the air around it buzzed with faint static.
It whispered something.
"—the sealed form… bound by light…"
I barely caught the fragments.
Didn't like them.
The first Hunter tilted its head at me.
Challenge.
Not words.
Not a threat.
Just… a decision.
It slid one foot forward. Spear lowered.
Alright.
The Ravagers were warm-ups. The Gnashbeast was a reminder.
This—
this was Floor 3's real greeting.
I shifted my stance. My claws flexed, sliding out. Shadows wrapped tighter around my limbs.
The Hunter moved first. Not fast. Just decisive. A step, twist, spear thrust—
I Blinked—
—and almost slammed into a side pillar as distortion dragged the shift off-path.
The spear grazed my side, tearing a line that burned hotter than it should.
Essence interference? The chant?
The Hunter didn't press.
It waited.
Watching how I reacted.
I hissed and pushed off the pillar, circling.
The Hunter's stance adjusted smoothly. No wasted movement.
Behind it, the chanting Shadeborn pressed another mark onto the wall.
The static got louder.
My shadows recoiled violently, a shock running through my limbs like cold iron.
What was—?
The Hunter rushed again.
I ducked under the spear arc and slashed upward. My claws connected—finally—but the Hunter twisted just enough that I only cut through its shoulder plating.
The wound leaked shadow like smoke.
It didn't flinch.
It swept the spear low, testing my footing. I hopped back—
—but the static tugged at my skin again, and I stumbled.
Heat I could handle.
Noise too.
But this—
This felt like something tugged at my evolution itself.
The Hunter was already on me.
It jabbed the spear downward — quick, sharp.
I rolled aside, but not cleanly. The shaft clipped my ribs. Pain flared.
I growled and kicked off the ground, Blinked forward, and swung for its mask.
The distortion barely nudged me. Good enough.
My claws connected dead-center—
CRACK.
The mask split halfway. The Hunter reeled back, sigils flickering erratically.
The chanting behind it stopped abruptly.
The static cut off.
The Hunter froze as if stunned.
I didn't waste the window.
I Blinked above it—clean this time—and drove both claws down through its collar into its torso.
Shadow burst outward.
The Hunter dropped to one knee.
It wasn't dead, but hurt badly.
The second Shadeborn hissed—not loud, not panicked. Just acknowledging pain. Then it lifted its hand.
A symbol pulsed on the wall — one I recognized from earlier murmurings.
A winged figure pressing its palm on a kneeling shadow.
A barrier.
A seal.
The Shadeborn's sigils ignited.
My shadows spasmed again, sharp enough to make me stagger.
It was testing me. Not physically. Essence clash.
I snarled and tore my claws free from the Hunter's torso.
Devour surged—automatically, instinctively—reaching for the Shadeborn's leaking shadow.
Static.
The essence fizzled.
Half-rejected.
A warning.
A future rule.
I didn't like it.
I lunged at the mural Shadeborn.
It reacted too slow.
My claws slashed through its arm, severing it at the elbow. Shadow poured out, thick and dark.
The static cut again—sharper—blocking Devour entirely.
I hissed and kicked the Shadeborn backward, slamming it into the wall. It crumpled, mask cracking.
The Hunter rose weakly, spear trembling, but I stepped behind it and hooked my arm around its head.
One twist.
CRACK.
It went limp.
Essence flooded in. Less pure than other creatures, but heavy. Heavy enough to matter.
[Devour Successful]
[Predation Level: 7.7 → 7.9]
[Adaptive Morph — Early Stage Unlocked]
[You feel structural flexibility awakening.]
Heat rushed through my limbs. My claws vibrated slightly—
No—
They elongated for a moment.
Then shrank back.
My arm thickened subtly.
Then settled.
The ability had awakened.
I looked at my hand and flexed.
The bones inside shifted.
Huh.
Useful.
I turned to the wounded mural-Shadeborn, but it was already dragging itself away, leaving trails of flickering sigils.
It tapped the floor twice.
Stopped.
Tapped once.
A different code.
Then vanished into the haze.
I didn't chase it.
Instead, my gaze drifted to the mural again — the winged figure suppressing the kneeling shadow.
The same static buzzed faintly in my skull.
Not enough to stop me now.
Enough to matter later.
Floor 3 wasn't just forging monsters.
It was preparing me for something the world didn't want me to become.
I stepped away from the corpses and toward the deeper corridor.
Tier 3 was close.
Close enough that even the walls seemed to react.
Something waited beyond this floor.
Something that cared about my evolution more than anything living had the right to.
I walked toward the heat.
And the shadows followed.
---