The air grew colder as they passed through the archway, the dim green glow of the glyphs behind them fading into an oppressive darkness. Erik followed in silence, his mimic body quivering with each step. The hunger, though faint, lingered in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of his tenuous grip on humanity.

The others weren’t much better. Kaelith’s distrust was palpable, her sharp eyes darting back to Erik every few steps. Davin walked closer to Edrin than before, as if the warrior’s presence could shield him from whatever he feared Erik might do. And Edrin... Edrin was calm, composed, but even he kept a hand near the hilt of his sword.

No one spoke.

The corridor stretched on, its walls narrowing and twisting in unnatural angles. Erik could feel the dungeon shifting around them, alive in a way that defied explanation. It wasn’t just stone and magic it was aware.

As they walked, faint whispers began to echo through the passage. They were soft at first, barely more than a murmur, but they grew louder with each step.

“Do you hear that?” Davin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kaelith scowled. “More dungeon tricks. Ignore it.”

But Erik couldn’t ignore it. The whispers weren’t random they were words. And though they were faint and fragmented, he could understand them.

“...the fracture... the hunger... the key...”

He stopped in his tracks, his mimic form rippling involuntarily. The whispers seemed to gather around him, swirling in his mind like a thousand voices speaking at once.

“Erik?” Edrin’s voice snapped him out of it. The warrior had turned back, his expression tense. “What is it?”

“The whispers,” Erik said, his voice low. “They’re... talking to me.”

Kaelith spun around, her daggers flashing in the dim light. “Of course they are. Let me guess, they’re telling you you’re the chosen one, or some other nonsense to make us trust you.”

“No,” Erik said, his mimic voice rasping. “They’re not saying anything I want to hear.”

Kaelith didn’t lower her daggers. “Convenient.”

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“We don’t have time for this,” Edrin said, his tone firm. “Whatever the whispers are, they’re part of the dungeon. If Erik can hear them, maybe that’s a good thing. He might be able to warn us about what’s ahead.”

“Or lead us straight into a trap,” Kaelith muttered, but she turned and kept walking.

The whispers grew louder as they moved deeper, and the corridor widened into another chamber. This one was smaller than the last, its walls covered in the same glowing glyphs. But instead of a pedestal, the room’s centerpiece was a massive door, its surface carved with intricate symbols that seemed to writhe and shift when Erik looked at them.

“What do you think’s behind Door Number Two?” Kaelith said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Davin stepped closer, running his fingers along the carvings. “These symbols... they’re ancient. Older than anything else in the Dungeon of Sorrow.” He glanced back at Erik. “Does this mean anything to you?”

Erik hesitated. The symbols didn’t just mean something they felt familiar, like fragments of a half-remembered dream. “It’s connected to the orb,” he said finally. “To what the Arbiter showed me.”

Edrin stepped forward, examining the door. “If it’s connected to the orb, then this might be the way forward. How do we open it?”

Before Erik could answer, the whispers surged, their voices overlapping into a cacophony. He stumbled, clutching his mimic body as the hunger flared again, sharper this time.

“...the key... the fracture must open the way...”

“What’s wrong with him now?” Kaelith snapped, stepping back as Erik writhed.

“It’s the door,” Erik managed, his voice strained. “It wants me to open it.”

Kaelith’s eyes narrowed. “And let me guess you’re just dying to oblige?”

“I don’t want to,” Erik said, forcing himself upright. “But if this is the only way forward ”

“It’s not,” Kaelith cut in. “We can find another way. We don’t need to trust whatever this thing says.”

Edrin frowned, glancing between Erik and the door. “If the dungeon’s guiding him, it might be because he’s the only one who can open it. And if this is the only path forward, we don’t have a choice.”

Kaelith didn’t look convinced, but before she could argue, the door began to shift.

The symbols on its surface glowed brighter, and the carvings rearranged themselves into a new pattern. The whispers grew deafening, their voices forming a single, unified word:

“Enter.”

The door creaked open, revealing a swirling void of darkness beyond. A chill wind blew through the chamber, carrying with it the faint scent of decay.

Davin took a cautious step back. “This feels like a really bad idea.”

“Agreed,” Kaelith said. She turned to Edrin. “We’re not seriously going in there, are we?”

Edrin’s grip tightened on his sword. “We’ve come this far. We can’t turn back now.”

Kaelith let out a frustrated sigh but said nothing.

Erik stared at the void, his mimic body trembling. The hunger was stronger now, clawing at him with every breath, but he forced himself to step forward.

“I’ll go first,” he said, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. “If this is a trap, it’s better I spring it than you.”

Kaelith snorted. “How noble.”

Edrin placed a hand on Erik’s shoulder or at least, where a shoulder would be if Erik were still human. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Erik nodded and stepped through the door.

The darkness swallowed him whole.