The Shadow Owl flew without sound, its wings slicing through the clouds as though air itself bent to avoid it.
The mountain loomed closer—tall, grey, jagged like the teeth of some sleeping titan. There was no visible opening. No visible entrance.
But the creature didn't slow.
It simply passed through.
Its body slipped into the stone as if the wall were made of smoke, and Noah with it.
There was no impact, no resistance—only a chilling sensation, like sinking into something cold and ancient. The Owl could phase through solid matter. And whatever it carried… phased too.
They emerged inside a cavern, vast and echoing, lit only by thin beams of light filtering through impossible cracks above. The air was heavy, cold, and still.
And Noah wasn't alone.
Two more Shadow Owls stood within the hollowed mountain chamber, their glowing eyes blinking slowly. Their feathers ruffled once at the intruder, then settled, as if they'd already known he would arrive.
At the center of the cave was a massive nest—an enormous structure of twisted tree branches, woven tightly like a throne of broken limbs. It dominated the chamber, pressing against the curved stone walls with its tangled sprawl.
Bones were scattered around the nest.
Human bones.
Some broken, some stripped bare. Skulls half-buried beneath feathers and ash.
And in the heart of the nest, resting among the remains, were three giant eggs.
Their surfaces were dark, nearly black, but faint pulses of violet shimmered beneath the shell—like something inside them breathed. Waiting.
Living.
The Shadow Owl didn't slow as it passed deeper into the mountain's cavernous interior.
It glided through a jagged arch of stone, where the walls curved inward like ribcages carved from ancient rock.
A section near the far end shimmered faintly—a cage, not barred by metal, but shaped directly into the wall itself. A seamless compartment of stone and shadow.
Without ceremony, the Owl phased forward—and dropped Noah inside.
He hit the ground hard, rolling once before the rough stone stopped his momentum.
"Hospitality's clearly not your strong suit"
He pushed himself upright with a wince, brushing soot and dirt from his clothes with a few stubborn swipes.
His shoulders ached, and his pride wasn't exactly unscathed either. But his eyes were already moving, scanning.
A soft glow illuminated the small enclosure—Eve's spherical form shimmered to life near his shoulder, casting faint, yellowish light that stretched across the cage.
Noah opened his mouth again, ready to throw out another one-liner—something biting, something to make the silence feel less tight around his throat.
But he stopped.
From the far corner of the cage came a sound. A soft, muffled cry. Not loud. Not panicked. Just… tired. Hollow.
Noah turned, his voice caught behind his teeth.
There, curled into the corner, was a girl—small, maybe five or six at most. She wore a simple, worn-out dress, its hem stained with dirt and dust.
Her black hair hung like a curtain over her face, hiding her expression as she kept her knees pulled tightly to her chest.
She didn't look up.
She didn't speak.
She just trembled. Alone. Quiet.
And somehow, even with everything he'd just seen… that sight chilled Noah more than the bones outside.
[NPC: Elena]
The name flashed in the corner of Noah's vision, and his eyes widened instantly.
"Elena"
The girl flinched at the sound—her body froze mid-shiver, like the name itself had momentarily broken through the haze surrounding her.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
Her brown eyes met his. Wide. Raw. Afraid, yes—but something else stirred beneath the fear. Something fragile.
Recognition.
Noah stepped closer, careful not to startle her. His boots made the faintest sound against the stone, and as he knelt beside her, he scanned her small form for wounds, for bruises, for anything that hinted at harm.
But there were none.
She was untouched—physically, at least. No cuts. No blood. Not even a scrape.
Just the weight of isolation.
"We came here to save you—well, I was supposed to be part of the rescue party until your oversized bird-chauffeur snatched me out of the sky."
He kept his voice low, measured, like trying not to crack glass.
"Your brother is with us. Luis. He led us all the way here."
Elena's eyes blinked once.
Then again.
And something warm sparked behind them, faint but unmistakable. Hope.
"My big brother is coming to save me?"
The words trembled out of her like a breath held too long.
Noah nodded, a soft smile breaking across his tired face.
"Yes. They're coming soon."
The light in Elena's eyes flickered—small, but steady now. The kind of spark that had been buried under fear for far too long.
Noah exhaled quietly, as if her hope had eased something inside his chest too.
He stood and moved toward a narrow hole in the stone wall—just wide enough to peer through.
Beyond it was the same vast cavern, filled with silence and looming shadows. The other Shadow Owls were still present, unmoving, their eyes dim and watching like statues carved from night.
Noah raised a hand.
His flintlocks appeared in a shimmer of blue light, one in each hand.
He aimed at the wall surrounding the narrow slit and pulled the triggers.
Twin bursts of energy cracked through the silence, echoing through the stone chamber.
When the smoke cleared, the wall remained untouched. Not a chip. Not a crack. Not even scorched.
He stared at the surface for a long moment, then lowered his weapons.
"Well… turns out, guns aren't the answer to every problem."
His voice was dry. Wry. But quieter than usual.
Noah scanned the cage again, this time slower, more thorough. Every inch of the stone. Every corner. Every seam.
Nothing.
No cracks. No hinges. No overlooked weak points or magical glyphs. Just solid, cold stone—airtight and unbreakable.
[Noah… this part of the quest, it wasn't designed with combat in mind. It's not about force. It's a measure of faith. Trust. You're isolated now, and I can't intervene—not directly. So I have to ask… do you truly believe they'll come for you? That you matter enough for them to risk everything to reach you?]
He didn't answer.
Didn't flinch.
Instead, he turned away from the walls and made his way back to Elena, each step calm and measured.
He lowered himself beside her, dropping into a relaxed sit like he was settling into a sunlit park bench instead of a monster's prison.
He leaned against the cold wall, resting the back of his head against the stone. Then he laced his fingers behind his head like it was just another slow day with nothing urgent to do.
Elena blinked at him, puzzled. Her lips parted, but no words came. Just silence and confusion.
He looked completely at ease.
Like the nest of monsters, the eerie cave, and the threat of death didn't weigh on him at all.
"Charming little getaway, isn't it? Low lighting, natural ambiance… and absolutely no way out."
He stretched his legs a bit, glancing lazily toward the ceiling.
"Five-star accommodations. I might never leave."
And yet, beneath the sarcasm… patience.
Quiet, unwavering patience.
•••••
Time passed, though it was hard to measure how long.
There was no sun in this place, no ticking clock, only the steady hum of stillness and the occasional rustle of feathers beyond the stone.
But within the cage, something quiet and unexpected bloomed.
Noah talked.
Not about the mission. Not about the Shadow Owl. Not even about escaping.
He simply… spoke.
Stories, mostly. Ridiculous ones. Tales about vending machines that stole your money and never gave back the soda.
About haunted elevators that only stopped at the 13th floor even when buildings swore they didn't have one.
About battles in video games that took ten hours and ended with a pixelated loot drop he didn't even want.
Entire rants about side quests, overpowered characters, and how pineapple pizza wasn't a crime against humanity despite what some people believed.
Elena listened, wide-eyed.
She didn't understand half of what he was saying. His words were strange—"loot box," "DLC," "speedrun," "patch notes."
They meant nothing to her. But his voice, the way he told them, the way he gestured like the fate of the world hinged on a soda machine… that made sense.
It made her laugh.
At first, only a smile. Small. Hesitant. But it grew—until the sound of her giggles echoed softly off the cold stone walls, light and warm, filling the space with something it hadn't held in a long time.
For a while, the cage didn't feel like a prison.
For a while, it felt like a room with a story.
Then...
Without warning, the walls behind them stirred—not with sound, but with a shifting of air, a pressure that prickled the skin before motion even began.
From the stone, as if it were water instead of solid matter, two pairs of massive talons phased through.
Black as pitch, cold as steel, they gripped both Noah and Elena in one swift motion. There was no struggle. No time. The moment they appeared, they had already taken hold.
The Shadow Owls emerged from the rock like wraiths unfurling from the deep, and with terrifying grace, they lifted them out of the cage and into open air.
Elena screamed, a cry torn from her throat as the world below dropped away in an instant.
The wind howled around them—then just as abruptly as it began, it stopped.
The talons released.
Noah hit the ground hard, breath knocked from his chest, stone scraping against his side.
But his arms didn't fail.
Elena fell just a heartbeat later—right into his grasp.
He caught her, pulling her close, shielding her as they slid across the cold floor. His back took the brunt of it.
She trembled, still clinging to him when the sound reached them.
A low, pulsing crackle.
Noah's head turned toward the nest.
The eggs were moving.
Their dark shells quivered, thin webs of light tracing beneath the surface like veins pulsing with energy. One of them gave a sharp twitch, then another, and then a dull thump echoed across the cave as the largest egg cracked down its center.
Golden light bled from the fracture, flickering like fire trapped in glass.
Elena's voice shook as she pointed toward them.
"The chicks are coming out… and they're going to eat us."
Noah gently set Elena down, his movements steady despite the tremor rolling through the chamber. The light from the hatching eggs pulsed across his face, casting deep shadows over his eyes—but his voice remained calm. Grounded.
He reached out and patted her head, his hand lingering just a moment longer than needed. A quiet promise in the gesture.
"It's not going to happen. I don't care what's coming out of those eggs. We're walking out of here alive. You hear me?"
His tone didn't waver. Not even when the air grew heavier. Not even as the stone beneath them began to quake.
"I'll protect you. Even if it means turning a bunch of overgrown, feathered nightmares into roast chicken."
Elena looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted.
She didn't say a word.
She didn't need to.
Because in that moment, all she saw was his smile—soft, stubborn, full of reckless defiance.
A crooked grin that made no promises of being a hero, only of standing between her and whatever came next.
A sudden gust swept the chamber as the three Shadow Owls landed in a wide circle around him—silent, vast, motionless sentinels perched on the surrounding stone ledges.
Their obsidian feathers ruffled with the stillness of a brewing storm.
The nest behind them trembled.
Then it cracked.
The eggs began to shake violently—deep fractures glowing like molten veins beneath dark shells. And one by one, jagged beaks pierced through. Sharp. Eager. Hungry.
The sound of splintering echoed like bones breaking open.
[Be prepared, Noah. The moment those newly hatched come out, the cutscene ends. They aren't chicks. They'll emerge fully grown—faster, stronger, and already aggressive. You'll be able to fight back, but whether it's with your party or alone… you'll have to survive.]
Noah exhaled, steady and calm.
His smirk slowly curved across his face like the edge of a blade unsheathed.
With a flash of light, his flintlocks materialized in his hands, humming faintly with stored mana.
On his shoulder, Robocrab began twitching violently, limbs jerking with anticipation, its single red eye burning brighter.
"Alright then. Let's skip the dramatic monologue and get straight to the part where I ask for intel."
He raised one brow, eyes flicking upward.
"Tell me their cheat codes, Eve. I know they've got some."
[These owls can phase through walls, terrain, and any physical object that lacks magical infusion. While phasing, they're completely immune to non-magical attacks—including melee and standard bullets.]
Noah's smirk widened, his teeth catching the glow of the pulsing eggs.
"Well, that's unfortunate… for them."
He rotated his flintlocks in his palms with ease, both weapons humming as Robocrab arched upward, targeting systems aligning.
"Because I don't shoot basic bullets."
He stepped forward as the cracks deepened in the shells behind him, the room trembling with the power of what was about to rise.
"Let's give these birthday birds a welcome party they'll never forget."