The morning started with a greasy breakfast at the inn. Roasted mystery meat, tough and oily, alongside unleavened bread. No one spoke much. It was a meal meant for survival, not comfort. Mitch chewed slowly, his thoughts descending deeper about what was to come. The crew's obvious nerves had him on edge. As did his notification.

Credits

Debts: -1,001,332* -> -1,001,998*

Assets: 127 Credits, 0 Souls*, 0 Flesh*Interest: -666/day

Cashflow: 0/day

Urgar belched loudly and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “A meal to remember, eh?” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but the nervousness in his voice didn’t escape Mitch.

“Let’s get moving, time to see what the rookie can do,” Sabe said, smirking at Mitch and adjusting her light gear. “Time to go down.”

The team gathered their belongings and headed out, deeper into the Depths.

The carved path wound downward, steeper and darker with every step. Narrow passageways that seemed to swallow them whole. The glowstones embedded into the walls grew dimmer, casting long shadows over uneven ground. There were no more shops, no more inhabitants.

The paths were carved out long ago, left rough and jagged by tools and claws. The deeper they went, the more the atmosphere shifted from dark to sinister.

Mitch heard his footsteps echo through the rocky corridors, no longer packed with thralls and miners–just empty tunnels where the weight of the Depths pressed down from every side. Stone walls dripped, and the air grew thick with the scent of damp earth and rot.

Sable led the way, her footfalls silent. Mitch followed close, Warrick just behind him. Urgar trailed, his shorter legs forcing him to keep up in a steady jog. As they descended, Mitch couldn’t help but feel excitement.

The deeper the squad ventured, the colder it became. Damp air clung to their skin, and the sound of their footsteps were replaced by a low, distant groan, as if the earth and rock itself was whining in protest around them.

Something about pushing forward ignited his heart.

Now this is real adventuring. Into the unknown!

But that spark of excitement flickered against the heavier truth pressing in around him. The Depths weren’t just dark—they were suffocating. The kind of place that swallowed people whole, leaving nothing but whispers behind. Was he ready for this? For the kind of strength it would take to keep moving forward?

He rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to keep stride with Sable.

Focus. Fear won’t help here.

“Remember, Mitch,” Sable repeated over her shoulder. She had reminded him several times throughout the morning of each Skill of the squad. It was starting to get annoying. He may be big, but Mitch was pretty sure he wasn’t an imbecile.

“Urgar has a berserker Skill. Warrick phases. I shoot metal wires and control them. You heal and…,” She paused, glancing at him briefly. For a split second, Mitch caught the hesitation in her eyes. “...hit really hard,” she finished with a smirk.

“Yeah, he does.” Warrick muttered and Urgar laughed at the remark.

Sable exhaled quietly, her smirk settling into a more confident expression as she continued leading the way. Mitch couldn’t tell if she was reassuring herself or them, but she didn’t break stride.

“This is it,” Sable announced, leading the group with sure, confident strides. “The point where the Depths and the Abyss start to intersect. Eyes open, everyone.”

Mitch felt the tension increase as the dark, rocky corridor widened into a massive chamber. The air was still, and veins of sickly green light ran through the stone, casting a glow over the open space. It was clearly an abandoned mining site, long forgotten. The tracks of old mine carts snaked through the stone like scars. Some led to offshoot passageways, some led to gaping chasms in the ground.

The chasms were bottomless black pits. Either leading to other sites, or descending endlessly.

Urgar gave a low whistle, leaning over the edge of one of the holes. His voice echoed down into the abyss. “Always wondered…how can these pits really be bottomless? There has to be a bottom somewhere, right?” His tone was light, but Mitch caught the uneasy glance he gave the endless drop.

“Careful,” Warrick grunted behind them. Mitch had pressed right up to the edge, and was staring down into the black hole. He stepped back, not even realizing that he had gotten so close, Warrick’s voice snapping him back to what he was doing. “You fall, you don’t come back.”

Mitch didn’t respond, but his muscles tensed as they continued. His eyes flicked back to the pit as they continued, unable to keep his eyes off of them.

The silence was oppressive. Only interrupted by the groans of the rock, improperly mined and buckling slowly. Something had Mitch’s hackles standing, but he couldn’t say what. He scanned the shadowy corners of the chamber. Some shadows played tricks on the eye, flickering in and out as if the darkness itself was watching them

As they approached a corridor, Mitch spotted something get up from what he thought was a dark crevice in the wall.

A man–no, not quite a man anymore–stumbled out of the shadows. Thin and gaunt, his body was a twisted, hunched form. But something was wrong with him. His skin was missing in chunks, replaced with black splotches that pulsed faintly. Like an infection that spread beneath the surface. His metal armor had been torn and fused into flesh in places, jagged pieces of rust digging into him. A curled and blackened right arm twitched at his side, overlarge and swollen.

His movements were erratic. Twitchy, as though he was trying to fight something inside him. He muttered under his breath, incoherent. Raw words slipping through cracked, bloodless lips.

“They took them…they took all of them…,” His voice was raw, hoarse from what seemed like years of madness. “But not me…No, not me.”

He dragged his feet as he shuffled forward, his eyes wide and unblinking. Within a twenty foot perimeter of the squad, his head jerked up. Suddenly, those listless eyes were fully aware as they locked onto the group.

Sable tensed, her hand creeping upwards as she prepared a shot of metal wiring. “The Abyss has taken him,” she said in a low voice. “We should–”

The man’s twitching stopped abruptly as something inside him snapped audibly. Mitch smelt foul rot permeating the air. His head tilted sharply to the side as the man’s cracked lips split into a toothless smile. “You’ll never find it,” he rasped, staring at Sable with a twisted grin. “You’ll never find what you seek, little Scrapling. It’s already theirs…they don’t need your body to have their fun.”

His gaze then snapped to Mitch, something predatory and dark as bones cracked in the man, seeking to flex themselves. The dark sparkled in his eyes, his face distorted as dried skin split on his cheeks. “And you…” His voice dipped to a cruel whisper. “You should know your place.”

The change happened in an instant.

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The man’s body convulsed violently, bones cracking further and shifting beneath weathered skin. His limbs elongated grotesquely, spindly and covered in black spots, like a disease. His rusted armor split, fusing completely with his flesh. It stretched and tore as his muscles bulged unnaturally. His skin and face split open. Revealing raw, oozing flesh beneath.

Mitch watched the glint of metal spiraling towards the Abyssal Man, and wrap around his torso. Sable had launched her Skill. He was enraptured by the transformation, his battle senses firing at their enemy. The Shadowshroud pulled him forward, and the Souls in his chest screamed at him to charge.

She fired another measure of metal again, this time at the man’s legs. Squeezing her hand, the metal dug into the man’s flesh, and reached bone. But what use is slicing flesh of the damned?

“Urgar, get at him!” Sable yelled, only to be interrupted as the man continued to transform.

A guttural growl escaped his throat as his face contorted, warping into something with too-large a mouth. His once human features were gone. Replaced by a jagged, tooth-filled maw that roared. The ground shook from the sound, the scent of putrid meat filling the unmoving air. As the scream ended, Mitch heard something. Patters in the background. Hundreds of small steps that quickly approached.

From the pit, from the passageways. From the depths of the pits around them, the faint sounds of claws scraping against stone began to echo.

“What’s that…” Urgar’s voice trembled as he backed away from the monster, wide eyed and fearful.

“Urgar, stop running circles and charge already! Forgeheart’s not just for show, you coward!”” Sable yelled again as she fired another metal strand towards the monster.

This one caught the approaching monster by the wrist, and the remaining steel wrapped around a rock spiking out of the ground.

Mitch wanted to rush forward. To fight this hellspawn. His heart pounded in symphony along the roars of the Souls within him. They wanted him to take it head on.

Gazing down into a pit, he saw them. Dark shapes moved below, crawling up the walls with terrifying speed.

The man–no, the monster–threw back its head and roared, tearing Sable’s wire with his newly formed teeth. Sable looked back at the group angrily, before firing another metal wire towards him. She yelled for Urgar to charge the monster again, but the dwarf faltered. His black beard whipped the air as Urgar glanced frantically at the edges of the room, towards the sounds of the approaching horde.

Mitch had had enough of Urgar’s cowardice. With a ring, he ripped his empty Soul Sword from the scabbard against his back, and held it in front of him towards the monster.

Fear melted away. It was replaced by the cold detachment of his Devoid Skill as he shoved unwanted emotions into it. It was like cutting the tether to everything human. No hesitation, no doubt. Only focus. Intoxicating clarity surged through him, but Mitch knew the cost. He couldn’t push his emotions down forever. When they came back, they would come with a reckoning.

If Urgar didn’t get his act together, they’d all be overrun. Mitch couldn’t let that happen—not here, not like this.

When the upgrade hit, he grinned darkly and continued on. He felt like nothing could stop him in his state.

Affliction Skill Upgraded

Devoid

Level 2

Lock away undesired emotions and thoughts. Feel only what you wish.

+ Your drive demands sacrifices.

All emotions and thoughts must be addressed eventually.

“Mitch! No!” Sable and Warrick both shouted behind him as he took off.

No? Such fear.

Mitch’s muscles tensed as he propelled himself forward, feet pounding against the rough stone floor. His eyes locked onto the monster’s grotesque body, disgust forming in his mind as every step brought him closer towards his prize–it’s twisted trapped arm. The souls inside him roared in unison.

Mitch’s legs coiled, launching him into the air. He soared and swung. The blade met no resistance as it was thrown forward by his powerful arm. It cut cleanly through flesh and bone, severing the limb in a shower of blood. The creature’s howl split the air. A scream of pure agony that emboldened his battlelust.

His body's memories clearly included fighting with a sword.

Knew it. Thank you body.

Before he could land, the monster’s remaining arm slammed into his chest with bone-crushing force. The wind left his body as Mitch felt ribs crack, the impact sending him flying across the chamber.

“Warrick! Distract it, anything!” Sable’s voice was sharp, commanding over the chaos.

Mitch’s flight ended abruptly as he slammed into something cold. The tight mass of a Grimmer. Their first guest had arrived. Mitch picked himself up off the body that smelled sweet from Grimlace. Its legs were broken from his impact, and Mitch pried himself away from its reaching hands.

Its face was twisted in a mockery of life. Its body was frail, and its shattered legs scrambled desperately beneath it, cracking further as it reached for him.

The impact left him winded, but his Agony’s Embrace surged in response to the pain. He felt his body harden, the energy coursing through him.

Mitch gritted his teeth, and without hesitation, brought his sword down, slicing cleanly through the creature’s neck. Its gurgling cut off as the Grimmer’s head rolled. The scrambling body slumped.

His chest ached, but the pain only fueled him.

There were more footsteps approaching, he could hear them down the tunnel. Turning around, he spotted the fight with the monster ensuing.

Warrick phased in and out between spaces. His massive frame appeared and disappeared like a ghost around the thrashing monster. Each time he appeared, he struck with spiked knuckle dusters, driving them into the creature’s bulging flesh.

At least someone knows that they’re doing.

Sable stayed further back, trying to pin down the monster with her wires. But the beast howled and fought, its rage overpowering their attacks.

Mitch wiped blood from his face and turned toward the growing sounds. Scraping of hands, feet meeting rock. The gurgles and chittering of Grimmers turned to frothing monsters. People turned into animals.

They were coming straight for them, and Mitch felt the fire in his belly from the thought. They would be here any moment. The one he had slain had just been early.

Mitch noticed Urgar. The dwarf wasn’t joining the fight. Instead, he was running in frantic circles around the chamber, his head darting left and right, searching for any way out. He stumbled toward one passage, only to freeze and recoil as the sound of scraping painted panic on his face.

“Grimmers…” Mitch heard the dwarf over all the noise. Urgar had backed into a wall, his eyes darting between the encroaching darkness and the fight. “We’re surrounded! They’re everywhere!”

Mitch’s mind raced as he stared into the darkness, where hundreds of malformed people clawed their way up from the pits. Grimmers, rushing in from every corner, scuttling like insects. Broken bodies dragging themselves towards him with terrifying speed.

His Devoid skill made him smirk.

If this thing is infected by the Abyss and it’s calling Grimmers…Mitch’s thoughts flickered, cold humor filling him.

Are all Grimmers Abyssal beings?

Mitch shook off the distraction of Urgar yelling. “We’re not going to make it! We can’t fight them all” The dwarf yelled, as Sable and Warrick took the monstrous man head on.

No time to waste.

Mitch flexed his Abyssal Vault, a mental tug pulling flesh and soul from the Grimmer he had slain. Drawing its power into his own.

Settlement Amount: 15(+1) Souls, 0 Credits, 2(+1) Flesh

Pulling a single flesh out, and spreading it through his body, his wounds knit back together. Ribs solidified from fragments as strength surged back into him. The hum of power throbbed in his veins, the Souls howling at the approaching horde.

Settlement Amount: 15(+1) Souls, 0 Credits, 1(-1) Flesh

There’s going to be a lot of bodies here. Plenty of souls to harvest.

The Shadowshroud growled. A deep, hungry grumble at the back of his mind. It tugged at him again, demanding to be let loose.

Not yet. You’ll get yours, boy.

The ground trembled beneath him as the Grimmers scuttled closer, their twisted forms clawing up the stone walls of the pit. Mitch tightened his grip on the Soul Sword, the blade gleaming faintly in the green light.

Let them come.

The first wave of Grimmers had finally arrived. It was time to test his mettle.

“Any time you’re done staring, rookie! Care to actually help before we're all Grimmer food?” Sable yelled at Mitch, Urgar forgotten.

This was the beginning. The Abyss had never met someone like him. And soon, it would learn.

Mitch launched himself at the horde coming from the nearest tunnel.