The sky broke apart.
The fog wasn't clouds anymore; it was torn open by the descent of a colossal hand. Fingers longer than entire streets unfurled above Adam, blotting out the pale glow of the crystals. They moved slowly—agonizingly slowly—yet the sheer weight of their approach made the tower tremble like a reed in the wind.
The hand wasn't just reaching. It was choosing.
"Move!" The masked figure's voice sliced through Adam's paralysis.
The tower shook violently. Cracks shot down the spiral staircase, shards of glowing stone splintering outward.
Adam ran. His boots pounded the unstable surface, every step a gamble. Pieces of the tower sheared off into the abyss below, falling endlessly into the black oily pit.
The masked figure didn't stumble. They darted across the collapsing platform, cloak snapping behind them. "Left!"
Adam turned—just in time to avoid a massive chunk of stone that fell where he'd been standing seconds before. His lungs screamed, his back burned from the earlier wound, but he forced himself to keep pace.
The giant's hand came down, crushing the top of the tower. The impact reverberated through Adam's bones. Shards exploded outward, jagged as blades, one slicing across his forearm. He barely registered the sting.
The masked figure grabbed his sleeve and yanked him onto a bridge that extended away from the tower. The bridge swayed violently, suspended between two spires that bent toward each other like broken ribs.
Behind them, the tower gave way completely. It collapsed in on itself, falling into the pit below. The sound was a thunderclap, echoing endlessly.
The bridge itself began to sag, chains groaning.
"Don't look down!" the figure barked.
Adam looked down.
The oily surface churned restlessly beneath them, ripples spreading outward as if something vast and hidden swam beneath. The sight made his stomach lurch. He snapped his gaze back up, forcing his legs to keep moving.
The giant's fingers brushed the bridge. Just the faintest touch—and the entire structure shuddered like a leaf in a storm. Chains snapped. Sections of the walkway peeled away into the void.
"Jump!" the figure shouted.
Adam's eyes widened. The gap ahead was impossible. The bridge had broken clean in the middle, leaving a yawning space of at least twenty feet.
"I can't!" Adam's throat was raw, his voice cracking.
"You can!" The figure's masked face whipped toward him, voice cutting like steel. "Or you die here."
The giant's shadow loomed closer.
Adam's pulse thundered in his ears. He ran harder, every step a scream in his muscles. The broken edge of the bridge rushed up to meet him. He pushed off with everything he had.
For one heart-stopping instant, he was flying.
Below him yawned endless black. His arms pinwheeled. He wasn't going to make it—
A hand seized his wrist mid-air, wrenching his shoulder.
The masked figure hauled him forward, their strength almost inhuman. Adam slammed into the opposite edge, rolling hard against stone. His ribs burned, but he was alive.
The figure let go instantly, already scanning their surroundings. "Up. Quickly."
Adam staggered to his feet, gasping. The bridge behind them tore free and fell into the pit, vanishing into oily blackness. The giant's fingers closed over empty air where they'd stood moments before.
The hand withdrew slowly, disappearing back into the fog. But the tremors in the city didn't stop. The structures around them groaned, rearranging themselves with grinding shrieks of stone.
Adam pressed a bloody palm to the wall, steadying himself. "What the hell was that thing?"
The figure glanced back at him, mask unreadable. "Something you don't want to meet twice."
"That's not an answer!"
"It's the only one you'll get for now."
Before Adam could argue, the wall beside them pulsed—like a heartbeat. The surface shifted, stone sliding against stone, forming an opening that hadn't been there seconds ago. A corridor.
The masked figure strode toward it without hesitation.
Adam hesitated, staring at the dark opening. "We're just going inside? After—after that?!"
The figure didn't stop. "It's safer in the veins than out here."
Veins. Adam looked at the glowing cracks that lined the corridor, pulsing in rhythm with the shard still clutched in his hand. They reminded him disturbingly of arteries under skin.
The sound of movement behind them—skittering claws, distant shrieks—made the decision for him. Adam plunged after the figure into the corridor.
Inside, the walls closed around them, narrow and suffocating. The light from the crystals flickered, dimming with every step. Adam's breathing echoed too loud in the tight space.
After what felt like forever, the corridor widened into a chamber. Strange, jagged growths sprouted from the walls, each glowing faintly. They looked like eggs.
Adam slowed, unease prickling his skin. "Tell me those aren't—"
"They are," the masked figure cut in.
As if on cue, one of the egg-like structures shuddered. Cracks split its surface. Something inside shifted.
Adam's stomach dropped. "We need to get out of here."
But the chamber had already sealed behind them. The corridor they'd come through was gone, stone knitting itself closed.
The masked figure drew their blade in silence.
The first egg split open.
A creature unfolded itself—slender, too many joints, its skin translucent enough that Adam could see black liquid pumping through its veins. Its eyeless face turned toward him, nostrils flaring as if it could smell him.
Another egg cracked. Then another.
Dozens.
Adam's grip tightened on the shard. His pulse hammered against his ears.
"This is insane," he whispered.
The masked figure stepped forward, blade gleaming. "Welcome to the heart of the city."
The first creature lunged.
Adam swung wildly, the shard slicing across its chest. Black ichor sprayed, sizzling as it touched the stone. The creature shrieked, flailing, but more were already pouring out of their shells.
The chamber filled with sound—screeches, the crack of breaking shells, Adam's ragged breathing. The glowing veins on the walls pulsed faster, as though the city itself was excited by the violence.
The masked figure moved like a phantom, blade flashing, cutting down one creature after another. Adam struggled to keep up, barely dodging slashing claws. He drove the shard into one creature's skull, wrenching it free as another lunged from the side. He ducked just in time.
There were too many.
"Up!" the figure barked.
Adam glanced up—and saw a spiral of platforms winding along the chamber's walls, leading toward a faintly glowing archway high above.
They leapt for the first platform, Adam nearly missing the edge before pulling himself up. Creatures scrambled after them, claws clattering on stone.
They climbed higher, fighting off attacks as they went. Adam's muscles burned, but he forced himself onward, driven by pure survival instinct. Every time he slowed, the memory of the giant's hand reached into him, dragging him forward.
At last, they reached the archway. Beyond it stretched another corridor, this one glowing brighter.
Adam stumbled inside, collapsing against the wall. His chest heaved, sweat and blood mingling down his face.
The masked figure lowered their blade, breathing steady. "Not bad."
"Not bad?" Adam wheezed. "We were almost torn apart, crushed, eaten—and you call that not bad?"
The figure tilted their head. "You're still alive. That's all that matters."
Adam laughed once, bitter and hollow. "That's your philosophy? Just survive?"
The figure didn't answer. They were staring at the shard in his hand. The crystal pulsed brighter now, its rhythm steady and deliberate, like a heartbeat matching his own.
Before Adam could ask, the walls around them shifted again. The corridor ahead widened into a vast circular chamber.
And at its center stood something Adam hadn't expected.
A door.
Not stone. Not crystal.
Metal.
Its surface gleamed with symbols Adam almost recognized—human symbols. Letters.
He froze. His breath caught.
Because carved into the metal, clear as day, was a word.
PROJECT EVE.