Prologue – Chapter 0: The Dungeon's Whisper
They said the dungeon was eternal.
Older than kingdoms. Older than gods.
Before men learned to wield steel, the abyss had already opened its jaws.
An endless labyrinth of stone and shadow, alive and breathing.
The dungeon devoured everything. Heroes, armies, empires—none returned from its depths. Yet still, humans came.
They always came. For treasure, for glory, for power.
But one day, the dungeon did not devour a warrior.
It did not feast on a king.
It took something else.
A child.
—
A blood-red moon hung over the broken ruins above the abyss.
A cloaked figure descended the jagged steps, a bundle in their arms.
The cries of an infant pierced the silence.
The figure stopped at the dungeon's edge, staring into the blackness below. Then, without hesitation, they lowered the bundle onto the cold stone floor.
The infant wailed, reaching with tiny hands. The figure turned, vanishing into the mist.
The dungeon stirred.
Monsters crept from the shadows—rats with bloodshot eyes, worms with fangs, bats with wings of bone. They surrounded the child, drooling with hunger.
And then… the dungeon's core pulsed.
Black runes flared to life across the baby's chest. An otherworldly force surged outward, making the creatures hiss and recoil. The dungeon… had claimed him.
In the darkness, a voice whispered:
—My child. Grow. Feed. Become mine—
The baby's cries softened into quiet breaths.
The abyss swallowed him whole.
From that day forward, the dungeon had a child.
And one day, the world would learn what that meant.