The gate behind them sealed with a hiss, its obsidian edges vanishing into the fog. A silence deeper than before settled around them—not hollow, but suffocating, as though sound itself were being digested by the very air. The stone underfoot throbbed faintly, like it remembered every death carved into it.
Floor 8 was unlike anything they'd seen.
The ground beneath their feet cracked with each step, brittle and pale as if formed from ash-baked clay. Bleached bone jutted from the earth like jagged teeth—some humanoid, others alien and twisted, too long with unnatural joints. Towering dead trees loomed overhead, their branches bone-white and leafless, curled into clawed hands reaching toward a dead sky.
A light breeze passed. With it came a low wailing sound, not carried by wind, but *inside* it, like memory given voice.
Roger's stance shifted automatically, muscles tightening. "Stay alert. This place feels wrong."
Kai swallowed hard, eyes scanning the vast stretch of skeletal forest. "These bones… they're *too* clean. Like something feeds on the soul but leaves the rest."
Aria knelt near a pile of rib-like fragments. "Not something. This floor drains spiritual presence. Look."
She exhaled gently, and for a moment, her mist aura spread around her like smoke—but it instantly hissed and faded, torn apart before it could settle.
"No cultivation aura," she murmured. "Not here."
Kai's bracer dimmed. He tapped it, brows furrowed. "The runes still activate, but… sluggish. Like something's eating the intent behind them."
"So," Roger muttered, stepping ahead, "we're basically walking blind and unarmed. Perfect."
---
They advanced cautiously, every footfall met with a soft crunch. The landscape pulsed with an unsettling stillness. Broken weapons lay buried in the brittle soil—shattered swords, splintered staves, half-sunken gauntlets. No bodies. Just the leftovers of desperate resistance.
"Think these were Echoes?" Kai asked, gingerly stepping over a cracked helmet.
Aria shook her head. "No. Too many styles. This feels older. Like a place that *remembers* every death it's seen."
Roger knelt beside a rusted blade embedded in a tree trunk. He touched the hilt—and immediately pulled back, eyes narrowing.
"I felt… a scream," he said. "Not a sound. Like it wanted me to *feel* its last moment."
Kai instinctively stepped away from the tree. "So the trees might be haunted. That's fun."
Aria sighed. "Stay away from anything that looks intact."
---
They came across the remains of a battle site—larger than the rest, bones scattered in ritualistic patterns.
Kai frowned and knelt to inspect them. "These bones were arranged *after* death. They're forming a runic array, but… backwards. It's not drawing power. It's *bleeding* it."
Aria glanced up. "A soul bleed array?"
Kai nodded. "More advanced than anything I've seen. Whoever made it… knew pain."
Roger scanned the surroundings. "Then let's not stay long."
As they stepped away, a shadow flickered through the trees. Not fast—*purposeful*. Tall. Watching.
No one spoke.
---
Hours passed.
Their steps grew heavier. The atmosphere didn't just drain energy—it drained *will*. Aria caught herself faltering, her blade dipping. Roger's usually spring-loaded steps had dulled. Even Kai's runes began flickering more than pulsing.
"We need to stop," Roger said, voice low. "Just for a moment."
They found a dry clearing tucked beneath a canopy of skeletal branches. No bones here. Just silence and gray dust.
Roger lit a flame using flint—not runes—and Kai pulled out rations with trembling fingers.
"You ever get the feeling," Kai said, trying to smile, "that this floor's just a very persistent death poem?"
Aria huffed. "I feel like I've been exiled inside someone's mourning dream."
Roger looked between them, then exhaled. "Alright. Let's do something stupid."
Kai blinked. "I'm in."
Roger tossed him a small stick. "You're roasting that. Over fire. Old-school. No runes. Prove you're not entirely dependent."
Kai grinned faintly. "Challenge accepted."
They sat close together, the fire barely warming the cold air. Aria leaned against Roger's shoulder without realizing it, and he didn't move away. Kai hummed a quiet tune, something half-remembered from home.
For a moment, the Bone Orchard didn't feel quite so sharp.
Just three people, surviving together.
Family.
---
Later, as they walked, Roger slowed and turned to Kai. "Your rune work's been improving. But your footwork's garbage."
Kai pouted. "That's fair."
Roger stepped behind him and began adjusting his stance. "You overextend here. If something rushes you, you'll trip on your own feet."
Aria joined in. "He's not wrong. And you plant your heel before your toe. You move like a scholar, not a scout."
"I *am* a scholar," Kai protested.
"Then stop getting ambushed like a page-turner," Aria teased.
They laughed, and for a moment, even the trees seemed quieter.
Then Kai drew out a flat piece of polished stone. "Okay. My turn. I'll teach you both to inscribe a proximity ward without triggering it by accident."
Roger crossed his arms. "Didn't you blow up a closet doing that once?"
"That was experimental!" Kai huffed. "And the broom was fine!"
They huddled around the stone, scribbling with glow-chalk, arguing about stroke angles and rune tension.
Aria's glyph exploded in a puff of smoke.
"Too much force," Kai smirked.
"Too much smug," Aria replied, flicking chalk dust at him.
Even here, laughter could live.
---
That night, they set camp within the hollow of a fallen giant—some skeletal beast whose ribs formed a dome above them. The fire cracked softly.
Aria passed out the last of the dried meat. "We're almost out."
Roger shrugged. "I'll punch a tree if I have to."
"Please don't," Kai said. "We've already established they're probably sentient and hateful."
They ate slowly, silently, until Kai said, "I miss this."
Roger raised an eyebrow. "The Pit?"
"No," Kai said. "Just… us. Together. I know it's dangerous, but... it feels like something good still exists here."
Aria smiled faintly. "We're more ourselves down here."
"Yeah," Roger said quietly. "Family forged in fire."
Kai blinked. "That was poetic. Who are you and what did you do with Roger?"
Roger snorted. "Sleep before I rethink the whole family thing."
---
The next morning came without fanfare. Just a slow rise of pale light filtering through the skeletal canopy. Roger checked the perimeter while Aria tightened her armor straps. Kai stirred the embers into a weak breakfast brew.
Their silence wasn't heavy—it was comfortable. Earned.
As they walked through the final stretch, Roger spotted something half-buried in the ground: a broken talisman with a familiar marking. The Director's.
They froze.
"He came through here," Aria whispered.
Kai nodded, eyes scanning the surroundings. "And left this. A trail."
Further on, they reached a cliff overlooking a vast stretch of black sand—windswept and lifeless. At its center, a monolith rose. Black stone. Familiar etchings.
Kai ran forward and touched the runes.
They pulsed beneath his hand.
He read aloud:
**"This floor offered no challenge because I knew you couldn't survive it yet. So I erased it. Let the bones gnaw at me instead. But this was your last gift. The next floors will not bend. Survive by growing. Grow by changing. Remember that strength without growth is stagnation. Floor 25 will show you why. —D."**
Aria stared at the monolith for a long time. "He cleared this floor alone."
Roger clenched his fists. "We keep walking. We get stronger."
Kai exhaled. "We'll make it to him."
Together, they stepped onto the next lift.
The Bone Orchard vanished behind them.
And the Pit whispered again.