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Grimnor gripped his battle hammers, their weight grounding him as he limped through the dark, twisting caves. His armor bore dents and scorch marks, and his blood left a faint trail on the stone floor.

He’d come with a party of five—now, he was the only one left.

“Grimnor,” a soft voice called from the shadows, drifting on an unnatural breeze. “Grimmy, it’s too dark. Help me light the way, will you?”

He clenched his jaw, tightening his grip. It was Edri’s voice, his fallen mage companion, and he knew it was a lie. The lynch beast had taken her first, her scream swallowed by the void. Grimnor watched her fall, yet here was her voice, soft and sweet as honey.

“Come on, Grimmy,” another voice chimed in, low and steady. Orin, his brother-in-arms. “Don’t leave me down here. Just a few steps back, aye?”

A shiver ran up his spine, but Grimnor pressed on, ignoring the familiar pull of Orin’s voice. Orin, who’d charged the beast first, who’d bought Grimnor the chance to run. But Orin was gone—he had to remember that.

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A different voice now, softer, pleading. “Please, Grimnor… I’m scared.”

Lyra. She’d been the youngest, all bright eyes and quick wit, her laughter echoing through the caverns. Grimnor felt his chest tighten, a dull ache threatening to break his resolve. His instinct screamed to turn, to help her.

“No,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Ye don’t fool me, beast.”

The darkness responded with laughter—low, guttural, and layered with the voices of his lost friends. Shadows twisted at the edges of his vision, the beast lurking, savoring his torment. It had taken the rest of his party with deceptive ease, one by one, leaving Grimnor to stagger alone.

But he wouldn’t give it the satisfaction.

The path sloped upward, and Grimnor felt a slight breeze. The exit was near. As he moved forward, the voices grew louder, pleading and screaming, desperate for him to turn back, to join them. His steps quickened, each stride echoing in the darkness as the beast taunted him with their cries.

Finally, he broke into the open air, the cool night wind hitting his face. He staggered forward, out of the reach of the creature lurking in the caves. But as he looked back, the last echoes of his fallen friends faded into silence, leaving him alone with the memory of their voices.

Grimnor took a breath, raised his hammers to the dark cave mouth, and whispered, “I’ll come back for ye.”