The ledge shuddered beneath us, water clawing at our boots as the red-eyed beast’s roar split the cavern, a sound that burned through the dark like molten steel. I pressed Aya against the wall, her fingers digging into my arm, her breath a frantic gasp against the flood’s icy grip. The shard in my pocket pulsed hotter, a relentless beat that matched the tremor shaking the stone—a rhythm older than us, older than the drowned world above. The lattice was gone, shattered by that monstrous claw, but its echo lingered in the hum, now a jagged pulse that rattled my bones.
“Lin Ze, it’s coming!” Aya’s voice cracked, her eyes wide, reflecting the red glow piercing the water. The beast’s claws scraped below, tearing at the cavern floor, each strike sending cracks spiderwebbing up the walls. Stalactites plunged like spears, one shattering inches from us, spraying shards that stung my face. I yanked her along the ledge, searching for a way up, out—any escape from the flood and the thing rising with it. The water surged to our waists, black and thick, pulling at us with a hunger I could feel.
The ledge sloped upward, narrowing into a shelf barely wide enough for one. “Climb!” I shouted, boosting Aya as she scrambled, her hands slipping on the slick stone. She reached a higher lip, turning to haul me up, her grip trembling but fierce. I swung my leg over, the shard searing my thigh, and for a moment we crouched there, breathless, the cavern groaning around us. Below, the red eyes burned brighter, the beast’s bulk heaving through the flood, its scales glinting like oil in the faint green light still pulsing from the broken lattice’s remnants.
“We can’t outrun it,” Aya panted, her voice barely audible over the roar. I didn’t answer—couldn’t—my gaze locked on a fracture in the wall ahead, a dark gash splitting the stone. It wasn’t a way out, not really, but it was something. “There,” I said, pointing, and we stumbled toward it, the ledge cracking beneath our weight. The beast’s claw slammed again, a shockwave throwing us forward, and I shoved Aya into the gash just as the shelf buckled, collapsing into the water behind us.
The fracture was tight, its jagged edges tearing at my sleeves as we crawled, the water seeping in behind us, cold and relentless. My chest scraped stone, the shard’s heat a cruel contrast to the chill, and Aya’s ragged breaths echoed ahead. The passage twisted downward—this wasn’t escape, it was deeper, but we had no choice. The roar faded, muffled by layers of rock, but the hum grew sharper, a needle in my skull, syncing with the shard’s pulse until I couldn’t tell them apart.
The fracture opened into a chamber, its walls smooth and curved, not natural but carved—metal and stone fused into a seamless arc, glowing faintly with veins of green light that pulsed like a heartbeat. The floor slanted toward a pool at the center, its surface still, reflecting the glow in a mirror of sickly hues. I pulled Aya to her feet, her legs shaking, her eyes darting around the space. “This… it’s like the last one,” she whispered, her voice tight with dread.
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I nodded, stepping toward the pool. The shard flared in my pocket, its heat spreading up my arm, and I yanked it out, its symbols catching the light. The pool rippled—a single wave, then another—and a low whine rose from its depths, sharp and piercing. A shape emerged, not a creature but a mechanism—metal, rusted and skeletal, rising on spindly legs like a spider, its core glowing with the same green as the lattice. Tendrils of wire snaked from its frame, sparking faintly, and its whine synced with the shard, a call that tugged at my mind.
“Lin Ze, get back!” Aya grabbed my sleeve, pulling me as the thing’s tendrils lashed out, arcing toward the shard. I stumbled, dropping it, and the mechanism lunged, tendrils wrapping the metal fragment, lifting it toward its core. The hum spiked, a roar that shook the chamber, and the walls flared—green light pulsing faster, brighter, illuminating cracks that hadn’t been there before. The shard glowed white-hot, and the mechanism whirred, its legs trembling as if awakening.
The water behind us surged, a black tide breaking through the fracture, and the red-eyed beast’s roar followed, closer now, its claws tearing at the stone. The mechanism turned, tendrils releasing the shard—it clattered to the floor, still burning—and faced the flood, its whine rising to a shriek. Light arced from its core, striking the water, and the beast bellowed, its claws thrashing as the energy burned its scales. Aya darted forward, snatching the shard before it sank into the rising pool, her hands shaking as she shoved it into my grasp.
“It’s fighting for us,” she gasped, but I shook my head, the shard scalding my palm. “No—it’s fighting for itself.” The mechanism’s legs buckled, cracks spreading through its frame, and the beast’s claw broke through the wall—a massive, tar-black limb that dwarfed the guardian’s, slashing the machine apart in one blow. Sparks flew, the green light died, and the hum faltered, replaced by the beast’s guttural snarl.
The water rose to our chests, the chamber collapsing as the beast tore through, its red eyes locking on us. I pulled Aya toward a ledge on the far wall, the only high ground left, her strength fading as the cold sapped her. “Up!” I shouted, lifting her as she climbed, her fingers clawing at the stone. She reached it, turning to drag me after her, and we pressed against the wall, the flood lapping at our knees. The beast heaved itself through the breach, its maw a cavern of serrated fangs, exhaling sulfur that choked the air.
The shard pulsed again, weaker now, its heat fading, and I gripped it, staring at the beast. Its eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition—or something worse—passing through them. It lunged, claws raking the ledge, and the stone cracked, tilting us toward the water. Aya screamed, grabbing my arm, and I swung the shard like a blade, its edge slicing into the beast’s claw. Black blood sprayed, sizzling where it hit, and the beast recoiled, roaring with a fury that shook the deep.
The ledge held—for now—but the water climbed, the chamber fracturing around us. The beast circled below, its red eyes burning through the flood, waiting. I clutched the shard, its pulse faint, almost gone, and Aya’s voice broke through the roar: “What does it want?” I didn’t know—couldn’t know—but the fractures in the deep were widening, and we were running out of time.