Yuto screamed.
"Where's the tunnel? Guys — the stairs are gone."
The way they came was sealed.
No ladder. No hatch. Just wall. Smooth. Seamless. Like they'd never entered.
"Don't mess around," Hina said, panicked, voice climbing sharp. She turned in circles, palm against the wall, feeling nothing but cold, ancient stone.
Minato wasn't moving. He stood five feet from the Blade, head tilted like he was listening to something no one else could hear.
"Minato," Ren said, stepping forward. "Hey—don't get close to that—"
The Blade pulsed. The ground under their feet gave a single throb, like the beat of a buried heart.
The stream was still running.
430,000 viewers.
Then:
@veilwatch: 412K watching.
@ch4stityburns: I can't breathe
@brokenangel: the Blade is moving
@sleeprot.tv: HE'S NOT ASLEEP ANYMORE
@l0gg3d.0ut: GET THE KIDS OUT PLEASE
Minato whispered something.
"What?" Ren said. "Say that again—what'd you just say?"
"It knows we're here."
A low groan split the air, followed by a sharp crack overhead. Dust fell from the ceiling.
Yuto's face twisted. "This isn't funny anymore. We have to go. We have to go now—"
"There isn't a way out!" Hina snapped. Her face was slick with sweat. "Don't you get it? It's gone!"
Minato took a single step toward the Blade.
Yuto lunged and grabbed his shoulder. "Minato, STOP—"
The lights blew out.
Total black. Not just dark—wrong.
The kind of dark that you feel in your teeth.
Something moved.
The stream caught flickers: a smear of motion behind Ren's shoulder. A slick, bone-white curve sliding along the far wall.
The stream lit up.
@glov3face: there's a mouth in the floor
@rindbone: what's wrong with the audio
@KAI-FR4Y: SOMETHING JUST CRAWLED BEHIND THE SMALL KID
@cutframe: THIS IS REAL. THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING
The chat began to scroll so fast it blurred.
Ren's voice, shaking: "Okay. Okay, we're getting out. We're leaving. Backtrack—"
But the ground opened.
A snap like tendons breaking underwater.
Hina screamed.
Yuto slipped. His foot hit the uneven floor and he went down hard. Something dragged across the ground near him—wet and hollow.
Then: his body jerked sideways, hauled screaming into the dark.
His hands left trails of blood against the stone as he vanished into the shadow.
Hina lunged after him. "YUTO—!"
The ground cracked between her and Ren. A thin fissure split like lightning across the floor, then widened. A chasm opened, soundless, as if the world simply… forgot how to hold together.
She fell back, scrambling.
"REN!" she screamed.
The camera caught her face as she reached for him—just before something thin, slick, and clicking swept between them. A shape. A limb. Something insectile, but bigger than a car.
And then—
The screen flared red.
A screech—long, metallic—peeled through the space.
The Blade pulsed again.
Once.
Minato stood still.
Then: vanished into light.
Gone. No scream. No motion. Just gone.
Ren's flashlight caught something enormous rearing in the dark—no eyes, no face, just meat and shadow and reaching hunger.
Hina's scream turned hoarse.
Ren shouted something incoherent—then turned, the lens catching his face. White with fear. Jaw open. Eyes wide—
Just before something huge and wet slammed against the camera.
Static.
No picture.
Just white noise and glitch-crackles.
The livestream was cut at 12:03.
But it was too late.
It had been screen-recorded. Re-uploaded. Mirrored.
Reaction videos hit within twenty minutes. Hashtags exploded. Conspiracy threads took over every major forum.
"The God's Blade Incident," they called it.
Authorities claimed it was faked. An elaborate AR prank. A viral hoax.
But no bodies were found. No camera. No equipment. No footprints. No entrance hatch.
Only a melted streak on the stone platform, where the Blade had been.
And a phone.
Still warm.
Still intact.
Still recording.