I wake up on the floor.
No bed. No room. Just a slab of living stone in a dimly lit corridor that smells like copper and mold.
"Rise and shine," Scribe says.
"Ugh," I groan, sitting up. My glowing palm itches like it's trying to burrow into my skin. "Did I get knocked out or…?"
"You were transported," Scribe says. "Standard post-registration disorientation. Try not to vomit."
"Thanks for the warning."
I look around. The corridor stretches endlessly in both directions. Fleshy walls. Vein-like lights. In the distance, shadowy shapes twitch and writhe.
And then my head throbs.
Not like a headache. Like someone is inside my skull.
"Kael Idiran."
The Heart's voice.
"Your first task: Retrieve a fragment."
I freeze. "A fragment of what?"
"A piece of a lost soul. Take it to the Hall of Veins. Do not fail."
"Sounds easy enough," I mutter.
Scribe chuckles. "It always does."
---
The "fragment" isn't far. That's the good news.
The bad news? It's in the middle of a place called The Maw.
"The Maw?" I ask as we walk.
Scribe floats ahead. "Yes. It's a reclamation zone. An unstable sector where the City feeds."
"Feeds," I echo.
"Yes. Don't touch the walls."
"Why?"
"They'll touch back."
---
When we reach it, I understand.
The corridor opens into a cavern. The walls pulse violently, lined with jagged teeth-like protrusions. The floor shifts like it's breathing. And in the center, floating above a pool of black ichor, is a glowing shard — the fragment.
It looks harmless.
That's how I know it isn't.
"Grab it and go," Scribe says.
"That's it?"
"Technically."
I take a cautious step forward. The floor twitches.
And then I hear it.
A low growl.
From the walls.
---
The teeth-like protrusions twist, revealing themselves to be limbs — skeletal arms with too many joints, reaching for me.
"Oh, hell no," I mutter, backing up.
The fragment glows brighter. The arms jerk toward it.
Scribe sighs. "They're guardians. They'll tear you apart if you hesitate."
"Great. Any advice?"
"Run fast. Don't miss."
I groan. "Why couldn't my first mission be… I don't know… delivering mail?"
"Consider this express delivery," Scribe says.
---
I bolt.
The floor ripples under me like water. The arms lash out, clawing, scraping. One nearly grabs my leg — I twist, almost falling.
The fragment is so close.
I dive for it. My glowing palm touches the shard.
And then the cavern screams.
The walls convulse, the arms thrash violently, and something enormous stirs beneath the ichor.
"Oh," Scribe says casually. "You woke it up."
"Woke what up?!" I shout.
The pool bubbles. A massive shape rises — too many eyes, too many mouths, all stitched together into one writhing mass.
My brain short-circuits. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"
Scribe taps its clipboard. "A Mouthling. They eat intruders."
"Of course they do!"
---
The Mouthling roars, its many mouths snapping in unison. The arms close in.
I clutch the fragment tight. "Scribe. Exit. Now."
"Good idea," it says. "Run."