What could be worse than a forest teeming with monsters and a constant barrage of bizarre anomalies?
It's the moment you realize you are tantalizingly close to the Core, only to find it buried within the skeletal remains of a gargantuan ancient city.
And now, you have to scavenge for that Core somewhere inside this massive graveyard.
This was the exact predicament Ash was facing.
His intuition had whispered that passing through the rat colony would lead him to the Core.
But it had neglected to mention that the "Place" was an entire civilization entombed in rock.
Thanks to the giant fireball above—a miniature sun—Ash could see everything with haunting clarity.
The entire abyss was encased by titanic earthen walls that seemed to press inward.
Ash couldn't tell exactly how vast the city was, but according to his vision, it stretched for over fifty kilometers into the amber haze.
'I have to find the Core in a place like this?'
'Well... I just have to try.'
To the right of the tunnel's edge, a stone staircase led downward in a sharp Z-shape.
Ash began his descent, his boots clicking rhythmically against the cold stone. As he walked, he gazed at the city below.
The atmosphere was suffocating. It wasn't just the lack of fresh air, but the weight of centuries of silence.
From his vantage point, the city looked like a sprawled corpse.
The buildings were shattered shells, their grand foundations now strangled by thick, emerald moss and parasitic vines that looked like frozen snakes.
One look was enough to know this place was once prosperous. It had been glorious.
'What happened here? Why is this city underground?'
Ash looked at the ceiling, where the massive flame illuminated the entire necropolis.
The light wasn't warm; it was a stagnant, artificial glow that made the shadows look like pools of ink.
'How can a giant fireball like that exist here? And it's still burning after all these years?'
He finally reached the bottom, his feet touching the cold, paved ground.
The air here was different. It smelled of wet stone, ancient dust, and a faint, metallic tang that made his skin crawl. He decided to check the nearest house.
It was made of heavy stone with a tiled roof, showing the high craftsmanship of the former residents.
Standing before a rotted wooden door, he pushed it gently.
Creeeeeak—
The long, piercing groan of the wood echoed through the vacant street, sounding like a dying gasp. Inside, the atmosphere was even heavier.
The furniture was a wreckage of splintered wood, covered in a layer of dust so thick it looked like grey snow.
He walked around to look for clues, his footsteps muffled by the grime.
He checked the second floor, but there was nothing but ruined domestic belongings and the hollow stare of empty windows.
He didn't stay long. He moved to other houses, hoping for a sign. But they were all the same. Everything was in ruins.
Desolation had swallowed every corner.
Ash stopped in the middle of a wide boulevard and noticed something.
'This doesn't look like natural decay. The way the stones are cracked... the broken glass...' 'No. This looks like war.'
'I see. A massive conflict happened here, leaving the city in ruins and abandoned.'
Understanding dawned on him, but it only brought more questions.
'If there was a war, where are the skeletons? Where are the bodies of the thousands who lived here?'
'And how are there so many people living on the island above? Is there a connection?'
Ash furrowed his brows, the mystery deepening with every step.
'It makes no sense. Whatever. I can't solve history right now.'
'Randomly searching like this is a waste of time. I should look for special buildings. Places of power.'
'Hmmm?'
Suddenly, his intuition picked up a ripple in the air. It was vague, a blurred sensation that tugged at the back of his mind.
He followed the feeling, his hand tightening around his silver spear.
'If I remember correctly, there was a building that looked like a church in this direction.'
After a short trek through the winding, moss-covered streets, he arrived.
It was indeed a cathedral. Its Gothic arches reached toward the earthen ceiling like pleading hands. But he didn't know which god it served.
There were no crosses, no icons, nothing.
The grand building was heavily scarred. One of its massive front doors was missing, torn from its hinges eons ago.
Ash entered easily.
The atmosphere inside the church was chilling.
It was a cold that didn't come from the temperature, but from an absolute lack of life.
Two long rows of stone pews flanked a central aisle, leading toward the front. But at the very end, where an altar or a statue should have been, there was...
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing. No statue. No image. Not even a symbol on the wall.
'How can there be nothing to worship? Did they pray to the void? Or was their god stolen?'
He stepped onto the wooden dais at the front. Creak—creak.
The old wooden floor groaned under his weight, the sound unnaturally loud in the hallowed silence.
He checked everything with clinical precision, but there was really nothing.
'No traces of a statue ever being here. No pedestal. No mountings.'
Ash turned back to look at the empty pews.
'What were they looking at? What were they worshiping?'
Finding nothing else, Ash decided to leave.
He thought his intuition was just playing tricks on him due to exhaustion and blood loss.
Thump—Thump.
'Wait.' Ash looked down at his feet.
'The resonance... why does the sound of the wood feel different here?'
His eyes widened as a realization hit him.
He stomped on the spot again, listening to the echo.
Thump—Thump.
'No doubt about it. This is the sound of a hollow space. There's a secret passage below.'
Knowing there was a hidden path, he quickly searched the nearby pillars for a switch or a hidden lever. But then an idea struck him.
Why waste time playing their games when he could be more direct? He was tired. His shoulder was throbbing.
He wanted this over with.
He confirmed the exact spot where the echo was the hollowest.
'Yeah, this is it.'
'Let's do it.'
Ash jumped as high as he could toward the dark rafters, holding his silver spear vertically.
With the tip pointing down, he used the momentum of his fall and all the strength left in his arms to slam the spear into the floor.
BOOM—
A loud, thunderous noise erupted, shaking the silent church. Dust and splinters flew everywhere, making Ash cough violently.
"Cough... cough..."
'Did it work?'
He looked at the impact site.
The thick wooden planks were shattered, revealing a dark, jagged gap.
'I was right. A hidden way.'
BOOM— BOOM— BOOM—
Ash repeated the process, slamming his weight down until the hole was large enough for a man to pass through.
'That should do it.'
After the dust finally settled, the secret path appeared—a narrow, spiral stone staircase winding down into a pitch-black abyss.
Without hesitation, Ash stepped inside.
...
'It's incredibly deep.'
Ash descended for what felt like an eternity.
The air here was freezing and thin. He could no longer see the amber light from the city above.
It was pitch black, a darkness so thick it felt like it was trying to crawl into his eyes.
But his enhanced vision allowed him to see the cramped walls and the jagged edges of the steps.
The staircase was so narrow he could feel the cold stone pressing against his shoulders. Every step echoed upward, a lonely sound in the dark.
Finally, his boots touched level ground.
'Phew... finally. This place is deeper than I imagined.'
Fwoosh!--Fwoosh!--Fwoosh!
Suddenly, a line of red braziers burst to life, the flames blooming like blood-red flowers. The light revealed a straight, narrow corridor leading to a massive chamber.
Ash immediately shifted his spear into a defensive stance, his eyes darting around for movement. He advanced slowly, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He entered the vast chamber and stopped dead.
The walls were completely covered in intricate, haunting carvings.
He saw long lines of people kneeling in total submission. There were elderly people with walking sticks, small children, armored warriors, farmers with their tools, and even kings with their crowns. Every age, every profession, and every social class was represented in this eternal prayer.
But there was a terrifying detail that made Ash's blood run cold.
Their faces were completely flat.
No eyes. No nose. No mouth.
They were a civilization of the faceless, identifiable only by the clothes they wore.
In the center of this mural, where every faceless figure was kneeling, Ash saw a massive stone wall.
It was split down the middle by a deep, pitch-black fissure.
It was a jagged, obsidian crack that seemed to absorb the light of the torches.
It looked ordinary, yet profoundly bizarre.
As he stared into the dark void of the crack, Ash felt a sickening sensation.
It felt as if his soul were being stretched, pulled toward that black hole like a moth to a flame.
Ash shook his head hard, his vision swimming.
'What the hell just happened? My mind... it almost slipped.'
But he didn't realize that looking at that statue had slightly changed his gaze; it became more frightening and deeper.
Unaware of the invisible change in his eyes, Ash looked down.
At its base was a simple stone pedestal, and on it sat a small, ornate chest.
He quickly approached it, keeping his gaze away from the dark crack.
'Hmm, a lock? Is it locked?' Ash reached out his hand to open it.
Fwoosh!
Suddenly, the Key Mark on his right hand flared with a blinding, white-hot intensity. It felt like a branding iron was being pressed into his flesh, scorching through his glove.
"AH! It hurts!" Ash recoiled, his hand trembling from the sudden agony.
Click—
The sound of a heavy lock opening echoed through the silent chamber.
The lid of the chest suddenly sat slightly ajar.
'It opened? Why did the mark react like that?'
He stared at his hand, the mark still pulsing with a dull, angry heat.
Then he looked back at the box, unable to understand the connection between his "License" and this ancient relic.
Ash stepped closer and touched the chest again, his movements slow and cautious. This time, the mark remained silent.
He slowly lifted the lid. Inside, resting on a bed of dark fabric, was a black stone.
Carved onto its surface was a crescent moon made of dull, ashen silver. Inside the curve of the moon was a hollow, pupil-less eye. And inside that eye was a delicate, hypnotic spiral—a miniature abyss that seemed to swirl when he looked at it.
'What is this thing?' Ash picked it up.
The stone was unnaturally cold, as if it didn't belong to the world of the living.