Andy stayed close behind Morwen as she opened the creaking door. Black dust and soot fell as she pried it open; apparently one of the hinges had been badly damaged and resisted opening.

Morwen peered to the right, so Andy looked left. He saw a dark, shallow hallway. Sunlight barely penetrated the dark, soot-covered glass, illuminating the faint outline of a doorframe at the end of the hall.

"Look," Morwen said.

Andy turned his head to the right: a similar hallway, but brighter. The glass had been shattered, and so sunlight poured in freely, reflecting columns of light off the smoke and dust that still circulated.

At the end of the hall was a room. The door had been blown off, its splintered remains scattering the hall floor. Through the doorway there was only blackness.

"What is it?" Andy asked.

"I'm not sure," Morwen said. "We need to take a closer look. Be on your guard."

Andy drew his long, slender dagger. He had picked this up precisely so that he could maneuver swiftly in close quarters.

Morewen drew her katana and crouched. Her movement was remarkably smooth and elegant, lunging slowly, remaining close to the floor as she approached the black room.

Andy crouched too, though not nearly as elegantly. He mustered all the muscle memory he had from crawling under pianos and scrambled silently behind her.

As they approached the room, Andy could make out some details. It seemed to be pitch black largely because of some dark, gooey substance coating the entire room, floor to ceiling. No light poured in from the outside.

On the floor, several markings glowed in a faint green light.

"What are those?" Andy asked.

"I couldn't tell you, exactly," Morwen said, "but if I had to bet, I'd say they're summoning glyphs.

Andy had to let his eyes adjust as he reached the room. Standing inside of it, the overwhelming sour smell of the dark goop set in.

Andy covered his nose; it was unbearable.

"Smells like shit," Andy said.

"Indeed," said Morwen. She paced around a few steps, easing her posture before sheathing her katana. "I don't see any clear danger. But remain vigilant, because that could change at any moment."

Andy sheathed his dagger, keeping his hand over his nose.

Then, from a dark corner of the room, a low, long groan began.

Andy jumped back and unsheathed his dagger again.

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Morwen drew her katana and brandished her Energy Blade in her left hand, casting a faint blue glow.

Andy could barely see the suggestion of the outline of a figure squirming on the ground. Perhaps he was making it up with his mind. It appeared to be some kind of large worm. But it's vocalizations were weirdly human. What kind of eldritch madness had Natham been cooking up? What sort of monstrosity lay waiting for him in those shadows?

As they approached the form with their weapons in defensive posture, Morwen's Energy Blade cast a brighter glow on the figure.

It was a cocoon-like mass of veiny flesh, continuous with the mucus membrane coating the walls. And it sounded like a human groaning inside.

"What is this black sorcery…" Morwen muttered under her breath.

Andy came closer, the mass breathed in and out, clearly respirating, but it sounded as if it were breathing from many holes all over its surface. The echo of the groaning reverberated all over the thing.

Then, at the end of the cocoon, Andy saw what looked like an umbilical cord attached to another eldritch creature, like the one that they had seen outside, the one Andy had assumed was Natham himself… but this cocoon seemed to be growing an identical one… and at a rapid rate at that. It looked nearly identical to the one they had faced.

"That wasn't Natham, that thing out there," Morwen said. "That wasn't him."

"What do you mean?" Andy asked.

"I think Natham is in there…" she said, pointing to the cocoon mass. "See, it's growing another one…"

"Oh my god," Andy said, hearing the groaning again. "We've got to get him out of there!"

Andy drew his dagger again.

"First," Morwen said as she slid her energy blade through the creature's face. It fell detached from it's umbilical support.

The groaning intensified.

Andy took his blade and pressed it gently into the membrane, searching for a place to cut.

"Natham?" Andy said. Can you hear me?

Then came a whispered reply, from the entire surface of the cocoon all at once: "Kill me."

Andy gasped. Natham's fate had been worse than he had originally thought. He wasn't transformed into an eldritch copy of himself, forced to die in battle… he was being liquified in a cocoon, his genetic material slowly siphoned off to nourish these hellspawns. It was a fate worse than death.

"We've got to–" Andy began.

Morwen interrupted him with her katana, slicing deftly into the cocoon wall and exposing Natham's goo-covered face without injuring him.

Natham gasped for air. "Oh my god," he said, sobbing.

Andy reached through the opening and grabbed under natham's armpit, hoisting him out. Natham rolled onto the ground, a mass of black goop following him.

He still had tattered remains of his robes. Much of his hair was missing, and he seemed incapable of opening his eyes.

His right leg tapered off into a gooey, partially digested mass where his foot should have been. Admittedly, it was a horrifying sight to behold, but all things considered, Natham seemed remarkably intact.

"We can save him," Andy said.

"Get Kermit," said Morwen. "But don't let Verin see you. He can't see Natham like this."

***

Andy sprinted out of the slimy room and into the soot covered hall. He rounded the corner out the front door.

Kermit was still with PL and Sven, not too far away. Andy took a deep breath and approached them. He'd have to be careful about how he phrased things. Kermit was just a kid, and they needed him to heal somebody in a very scary situation.

Then came a call from the hill.

"Andy, my lad."

It was Verin.