The tunnel leading to the fourth floor was eerily silent as the larger group of adventurers, Wendren, and Lucy entered. Their footsteps echoed in the narrow passage, the usual damp stone walls glistening with moisture from the rain above.

At first, the changes were subtle—fleshy tendrils began to creep along the edges of the walls, coiling and twitching as if alive. The group exchanged uneasy glances but pressed forward. With each step, the air grew thicker, carrying the stench of rot and iron.

“It’s like walking into a slaughterhouse,” Ulrick muttered, gripping his sword tighter.

The tendrils grew denser, spreading along the walls in writhing patterns. Then, the pulsing began. Faint at first, a gentle thrum that matched their own heartbeats, but as they moved deeper, the walls themselves seemed to come alive.

“Light,” Marked Skull ordered, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. One of the adventurers raised a glowing torch closer to the wall.

What they saw made everyone freeze.

The stone was gone. The walls were now a grotesque tapestry of flesh, veins visible beneath the surface, pulsating with a sickening rhythm. Small rivulets of blood trickled down, pooling on the softening ground. Each step squelched now, the sound accompanied by faint shudders from the fleshy floor beneath their boots.

Lucy clung tightly to Oak’s shoulder, her usual cheer dimmed by the overwhelming sight. “It’s… alive,” she whispered, her voice tinged with awe and fear.

The group pushed on, their determination carrying them forward. The tunnel’s claustrophobic atmosphere deepened as the floor itself became spongy, sinking slightly under their weight. Tendrils slithered across their path, recoiling like wounded serpents when touched.

When they finally emerged into the chamber, nothing could have prepared them for the sight.

The ground was a hellish red, slick with a mixture of rain and blood that oozed from every surface. Puddles formed in divots and crevices, reflecting the constant barrage of lightning from the sky above. The air was thick with the metallic tang of iron, each breath tasting like the aftermath of a violent battle.

Towering, bone-like trees dotted the landscape, their grotesque, fleshy leaves swaying lazily in an unnatural breeze. Some were wrapped in writhing tentacles that coiled and uncoiled as if testing their strength. The grass underfoot was a nightmare—blades resembling skinless fingers reaching up from the ground, brushing against their boots.

The stormcloud above roiled and churned, black and oppressive. Lightning arced violently across the sky, a relentless cascade of light and sound. Hundreds of flashes illuminated the horrific scene, casting twisted shadows that danced across the fleshy terrain.

Nole stopped dead in her tracks, her face pale as a sheet. She took one look at the grotesque landscape, the writhing tendrils, the pulsing trees, and the slick, blood-soaked ground. Without a word, she turned on her heel and started marching back into the tunnel.

“Nope!” she declared loudly, her voice echoing in the cavern. “Nope! Nope! Nope! I’m out! Screw this place, screw those trees, screw this dungeon! Nope!”

The group stared after her, too stunned to react.

“She’s not wrong,” Ulrick muttered, his grip tightening on his weapon.

“Cowardice is unbefitting of a predator,” Marked Skull rumbled, his glowing eyes scanning the grotesque landscape.

Lucy, still perched on Oak’s shoulder, managed a weak laugh. “Well… it’s kind of… unique?” Her voice wavered as she clung to her tree friend, her usual enthusiasm struggling to resurface.

A guttural roar cut through the storm, low and deep, rumbling from somewhere within the crimson expanse. The ground beneath them shuddered, and the lightning above seemed to intensify, casting stark shadows over the bone-like trees.

Marked Skull stepped forward, his parasite armor gleaming faintly in the red light. “We move forward,” he said firmly. “The sacred tree demands answers.”

Lucy swallowed hard and nodded, gripping one of Oak’s branches for comfort. The group began their cautious descent into the nightmare before them, their unease growing with each step.

The fourth floor was alive, and it was hungry.

The group waited patiently at the edge of the tunnel, just outside the reach of the red rain. Drops pattered against the fleshy ground in a cacophony that sounded far too alive for anyone’s comfort. Lightning flashed, illuminating the grotesque landscape, and the occasional gust of wind drove the crimson rain sideways, forcing them to huddle closer to the tunnel’s relative safety.

Ulrick stood apart, attempting to coax Nole back from her retreat up the tunnel. Her voice echoed faintly, protesting loudly. “Nope! Not doing it! Nope, nope, nope!”

Meanwhile, the rest of the group made small observations as they scanned the eerie expanse before them. In the distance, strange shapes flitted through the air—too quick to identify, but enough to keep everyone on edge. Faint, bloodcurdling screams carried intermittently on the wind, blending with the endless rumble of thunder.

The hollow tree loomed in the distance, its massive form piercing through the storm-filled sky. Its once-pristine bark was now marred with what looked like pulsating, fleshy vines that crawled along its exterior.

“I saw nothing suspicious inside the hollow tree during our journey to the feast,” Marked Skull said, breaking the tense silence. His voice was steady, a grounding force amidst the chaos. “It seems this growth is restricted to the outside and has not breached its interior.”

“Good observation. Flesh growth strange. Need to examine slain enemies. More discoveries there,” Vin said, his monotonous voice cutting through the thunder with unnerving calm.

All the Wendren turned to look at him, their glowing eyes narrowing in collective confusion. Even Marked Skull seemed taken aback.

“You… you are learning our language?” Marked Skull asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. “Some of the words you just spoke were understandable to my people.”

Brill frowned. “What do you mean? Vin didn’t make the same sounds your people do when they converse with each other. How could you understand him?”

Marked Skull tilted his head, considering the question carefully. “The Wendren language is not rooted in sound. It is based on pure meaning and intention. The sounds we make simply carry that meaning and intention. Your predator friend speaks in a way that resonates with our language.”

The group exchanged startled glances, and even Vin’s usual impassive expression seemed to falter slightly.

“Interesting. Meaning and intention. Understand some words Wendren say, too,” Vin replied, his tone as even as ever.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Brill and Gale both gaped at him. “Vin!” Gale exclaimed, stepping closer. “You should have said something! That’s incredible! If you can understand and communicate with the Wendren, you could be an invaluable asset for diplomacy!”

Vin shrugged. “Didn’t seem important. Now seems important.”

Marked Skull’s glowing eyes focused on Vin, his expression unreadable. “Perhaps you underestimate your own importance, predator. If you speak with meaning and intention, perhaps you understand the soul of the Wendren more than you realize.”

The silence that followed was broken only by the faint hum of the storm, leaving everyone to ponder the implications of this unexpected revelation.

After a few minutes of quiet deliberation, Lucy suddenly leapt down from Oak’s shoulder, landing lightly on the fleshy ground. Without a word, she dashed back up the tunnel, leaving the group staring after her in confusion.

“What now?” Ulrick muttered, shaking his head.

Moments later, Lucy returned, dragging Nole and Ulrick behind her. Nole, wrapped head to toe in layers of cloth, blankets, and even a rope to secure her makeshift armor against the blood rain, looked utterly miserable.

“I am NOT taking this off until we’re out of this nightmare,” Nole grumbled, her voice muffled through the thick fabric. Only her eyes were visible, peeking out from beneath the layers like a suspicious cocoon.

Lucy beamed as she presented her handiwork. “Now we’re all ready! Right, Marky?”

Marked Skull let out a low rumble of approval. “So we can begin our exploration, it seems.” He turned to the rest of the group, his glowing eyes scanning them with measured intensity. “Check your equipment one last time. We proceed now.”

The group moved with care, giving their gear a final once-over while Nole muttered grumpily about the indignity of being swaddled like a newborn. Her complaints brought a few suppressed chuckles, but the tension remained palpable. Everyone knew what lay ahead wasn’t going to be simple.

With a final glance back at the relative safety of the tunnel, the group stepped out into the open.

The ground squelched underfoot, the sickening wetness squishing into their boots and claws alike. The grass-like growths bent and swayed unnaturally, some even reaching out as if to grab at them. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood, and the persistent sound of distant screams grew louder with each passing moment.

“This floor is wrong,” Gale murmured, his voice low but carrying the shared unease of the group.

The group trudged on, choosing a random direction as there was no discernible path. Tension remained high as they moved cautiously through the red swamp, their senses on edge with every unnatural noise or movement. Occasionally, they paused, weapons raised, as if expecting an attack. Yet, nothing came.

On their journey, they encountered strange plants that might have been herbs—if not for their sickly coloration and grotesque appearances. Some oozed a foul liquid, while others gave off the stench of rotting flesh. The group avoided them entirely, none willing to take the risk of touching the tainted flora.

The fauna was no less disturbing. They passed what looked like an alligator, except its legs had been replaced with writhing tentacles, and its flesh seemed raw and exposed. Snakes slithered through the muck, their scales replaced with malformed, finger-like growths. And then there was the rabbit.

At first glance, Nole thought it was cute. A bright red bunny, hopping innocently through the muck. But as they approached, it became horrifyingly clear that this creature wasn’t as harmless as it appeared. Its mouth, filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth, tore savagely into the remains of another creature, its tiny paws soaked in blood.

“I take it back. That’s not cute,” Nole muttered, clutching her blanket protectively as the group dispatched the creature with little effort.

Vin, as always, was quick to investigate. Kneeling in the mud, he began dissecting the rabbit-like monster with calm precision, much to the discomfort of the others. His monotone commentary only worsened the mood.

“Digestive tract mutated. Possible higher efficiency,” he began, cutting further. “Muscle strands, enhanced strength. Claws sharper than standard. Tumors—multiple, purpose unclear. Liquid secretion… likely venomous.”

“That’s great, Vin. Super comforting,” Gale muttered, shaking his head as the group moved on.

Nearly an hour passed as they trudged through the twisted swamp. Despite the ever-present unease, they encountered no true monsters. But then, something caught their attention.

Ahead of them loomed a hill. Its surface writhed with activity—tentacles and eyestalks emerging from its flesh-like surface, swaying lazily but with an unsettling purpose. The hill was riddled with large holes, each easily wide enough for most of the group to crawl through. Marked Skull, however, would have to remain outside.

The reptilian eyes on the stalks fixed on them the moment they stepped closer. The group froze.

And that’s when they saw the first monsters of the floor.

The group paused, their collective unease reaching a crescendo as the hill came into view. It loomed ahead, a grotesque mound pulsating faintly with a life of its own. The surface was writhing with tentacles, their slick, fleshy forms curling and coiling like restless serpents. Interspersed among them were eyestalks, each ending in a massive reptilian eye that swiveled toward the group as one, locking onto them with unsettling precision.

The ground around the hill squelched ominously with each step closer, and the bloody rain intensified, creating rivulets of crimson that flowed toward the base of the hill, as if drawn by some unseen force. The atmosphere thickened, the iron tang of blood overpowering, as if the very air rebelled against their presence.

Lucy, perched on Oak's shoulder again, tilted her head in childlike curiosity. "So... um, Marky? That looks... alive. Are hills supposed to be alive?"

Marked Skull grunted, his glowing eyes narrowing. "Not normally. This is no hill. It is something... unnatural."

"Fascinating," Vin said, stepping closer despite the clear warnings etched into the landscape before him. He knelt by a particularly large eyestalk and reached out with his dagger to prod at its base. "Eyestalk attached directly to nerve clusters. Rapid movement response. Possible sentience."

"Vin!" Ulrick snapped, his sword already drawn. "Maybe don’t poke the creepy living hill of tentacles and eyeballs?"

But it was too late.

The hill quivered violently, as if Vin’s curiosity had triggered some primal defense mechanism. The eyestalks darted in their sockets, their unblinking gazes focusing on the group with an almost predatory intensity. The tentacles lashed out, writhing faster, their movements no longer aimless but deliberate.

From the largest hole at the hill’s peak came a sound—a deep, guttural roar that shook the ground beneath their feet. The eyestalks retracted slightly, vanishing into their fleshy stalks, and the tentacles whipped into a frenzy.

And then they saw them.

Monsters began to emerge from the hill's many openings. The first was a quadrupedal creature, its body a grotesque amalgamation of scales, flesh, and exposed sinew. Its elongated snout was lined with jagged teeth, and its many eyes glowed faintly with a malevolent light. Behind it, more creatures spilled forth—each one a twisted reflection of natural predators, reshaped and reformed into horrors that should not exist.

"Defensive positions!" Marked Skull barked, his voice steady despite the chaos unfolding before them. The Wendren warriors moved with practiced precision, forming a protective line in front of Lucy and the adventurers. The shaman began muttering under his breath, his hands glowing faintly as he prepared a defensive spell.

Lucy clung tightly to Oak's branch as the Treant moved forward, its massive limbs raised in readiness. Shroomy stood beside him, releasing a cloud of glowing spores that drifted toward the encroaching monsters, slowing their movements and forcing them to pause.

Nole, still wrapped tightly in her makeshift cocoon, peeked out just enough to glare at the nearest creature. "This floor sucks!" she muttered, her voice muffled.

Ulrick gritted his teeth, stepping forward to join the line with Gale and Brill flanking him. "Everyone, stay sharp! These things don’t look like they’ll go down easy."

Marked Skull raised his massive parasite-forged blade, his glowing eyes scanning the advancing monsters. "Hold the line. We do not retreat."

The first clash came quickly. The quadrupedal beast lunged, its jaws snapping with terrifying speed, but one of the Wendren warriors met it head-on, their blade slicing into the creature’s exposed flesh. Acidic blood sprayed from the wound, sizzling as it hit the wet ground.

Lucy’s eyes widened as the scene unfolded. “Whoa! Shroomy, help them out!” The shroomwood Treant moved forward, its massive arm swinging down to crush another monster that tried to flank the group. The impact sent a shockwave through the ground, momentarily staggering the advancing horrors.

"Focus on the ones coming from the side!" Ulrick shouted, blocking a swipe from a tentacle-like appendage that lashed toward him. Nole fired off a shot with her bow, the arrow finding its mark in the eye of a smaller creature, causing it to shriek and writhe in pain.

Vin, unshaken even in the midst of chaos, crouched by a fallen monster and began dissecting it with quick, precise movements. "Acidic blood—potent. Internal organs... redundant systems detected. Likely to survive critical injuries. Interesting..."

"Vin! For the love of—stop dissecting and start fighting!" Gale yelled, pulling Vin back just as another creature lunged for him.

Marked Skull stepped forward, his blade glowing faintly as he charged into the fray. His strikes were powerful and deliberate, each one cutting through the monsters with ease. The Wendren warriors followed his lead, their parasite armor absorbing blows that would have otherwise been fatal.

The battle raged on, the group slowly gaining the upper hand. But the hill continued to quiver, and from its largest opening, a shadow began to emerge—a creature far larger and more imposing than the rest.

Lucy’s smile faltered as she pointed toward it. “Uh... guys? I think the boss just showed up.”