Chapter 8: The Web of Memories

With a final look at the remains of the Stonehide Rhino, Cruz turned and ventured deeper into the cave, ready to confront whatever awaited him. As he walked, inching cautiously into the cave's darkened depths, he began to acclimate to the shadows. His senses tingled with newfound sensitivity, the effects of the Quakehorn Titan bloodline enhancing his awareness of the environment. The darkness no longer felt like a shroud; instead, it pulsed around him, whispering secrets of the cave.

Cruz pondered how powerful the Quakehorn Titan must have been for even a sliver of its blood to grant him such remarkable changes. The connection he felt to the ground deepened, almost as if he could sense the vibrations of life and movement beneath him. He took slow, measured steps, savoring the subtle tremors and shifts in the earth.

Then, he felt it: small, light footsteps. His instincts flared, and his heart raced as he strained to listen. The cave remained shrouded in darkness, making it difficult to discern the source. As he pressed on, the footsteps drew closer, echoing ominously through the cavern.

Just as he reached a wide passage, a sticky, flimsy cloth-like film caught him off guard. It clung to him, a bizarre sensation that made him pause. A chill ran down his spine as an eerie wind rushed past, filling the air with an unsettling whisper. With a rush of intuition, he activated his [Identify] skill.

[Silkweaver Spider – lvl 9]

Vitality: 7

Strength: 6

Agility: 7

Endurance: 8

Mana Capacity: 6

Fear Aura: 6

Cruz gasped, the realization crashing over him like a tidal wave. The cave was home to Silkweaver Spiders—numerous and deadly. A grim look crossed his face as he sensed their many eyes watching him, hidden in the shadows. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he instinctively took a step back.

Then, a high-pitched squeak echoed through the chamber, and all hell broke loose.

Before he could react, a sticky web shot out, ensnaring him in its clutches. Panic surged through him as he struggled to break free, but the silk clung tightly, wrapping around his limbs like a constricting snake. He felt woozy and dizzy as the web began to exert a trance-like grip on him.

As he fought against it, memories flooded his mind—heartbreaking and vivid. He saw the face of his father, a warm smile on his lips, then the horror of that fateful day—the gates opening, the chaos, the loss. Each memory replayed endlessly, sharpening his despair. The more he fought, the more entangled he became, the web spinning higher and higher above him, enclosing him like a mummy.

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"No… no!" Cruz shouted, but the words came out as a mere whisper, drowned by the swirling emotions and the web's intoxicating hold. The spiders had used the skill [Silken Threads: the Silkweaver creates webs infused with a mild psychic aura that causes confusion in those who become trapped, slowing their reaction times and dulling their senses.]

He struggled against the silk, trying to claw his way back to reality, but each frantic movement only ensnared him further. The memories were relentless—his sister's scarred face, his mother's frail form, the pain and guilt of having survived when they hadn't.

Then the eyes of the spiders flickered as they activated their skill, [Creep of Doubt: when near a Silkweaver, enemies may begin to feel subtle waves of paranoia, making it harder for them to focus during combat.]

The fear aura of the spiders intensified, wrapping around him like a fog, suffocating his willpower. Cruz felt the darkness close in, shadows wrapping around his mind, drowning out the last flickers of his resolve. He drifted into the abyss of horror and paranoia, the flickers of memories making him dizzy, until finally, he succumbed to sleep. The spiders shrieked in excitement as they glided their new prey deeper into the amalgamations of the cave.

In the depths of his tortured memories, he saw a vision that shook him to the core. His father stood before him, eyes filled with blame, accusing him of failures he could hardly comprehend. His mother's illness loomed large in his mind, and his sister's scars haunted him, each a reminder of the chaos he had unwittingly brought into their lives. Then, like a flickering candle, a deep-seated memory began to surface.

He felt the heartbeat of the small sliver of the bloodline struggling within him. It pulsed with life, a beacon of power fighting against the darkness that threatened to consume him. Within this battle, he glimpsed a memory long buried—an image of a colossal being, a creature so immense that its very steps quaked the stars. He saw it crying out, its voice reverberating through space, each cry sending waves that dimmed distant galaxies.

The memory shattered, revealing the being's fierce gaze fixing upon him. Yes, it was looking at the small human boy. Then, with a rush of energy, Cruz felt his consciousness shift, the threads of memory weaving into something new.

Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and he found himself suspended in darkness, wrapped tightly in the webbing of the Silkweaver Spiders. The cave was eerily silent now, the spiders waiting patiently, their gleaming eyes watching for any sign of weakness.

But Cruz was not the same. He felt the Quakehorn Titan bloodline coursing through him, feeding off the memories of power that had awakened within. A deep connection to the earth surged through him, and with it came a profound understanding of his surroundings.

Summoning every ounce of strength, he focused on the energy surrounding him. The vibrations of the cave filled him with resolve, and he tapped into [Earth Sense], guiding his movements as he maneuvered against the sticky silk.

With a sharp movement, he drew his dagger, slicing through the web that bound his arms. The moment the silk gave way, adrenaline surged through his veins, igniting a fire within. He rolled free from the web, the echoes of the spiders' chatter fading as he found his footing once again.

Cruz's heart raced as he stood, fully aware of his surroundings now. The cave felt alive, each tremor whispering secrets of paths yet to be traveled. The Silkweaver Spiders regrouped, their movements quickening, but Cruz was ready.

With renewed determination, he lunged forward, the energy of the earth flowing through him, giving him strength. He was no longer a mere victim; he was a warrior, emboldened by the spirit of the Quakehorn Titan. The spiders may have thought they could ensnare him, but they would soon learn the truth of his power.

As he faced down the advancing swarm, a notification flashed before him, momentarily catching his attention:

[Skill Evolution: Descent of Primus ???]

The connection to the ancient bloodline has strengthened. Evolving