Hill pressed himself against the tunnel wall, barely breathing. His eyes locked on the thing ahead.
A massive worm-like creature slithered through the passage not twenty feet away. Ten feet long at least, maybe more.
It had a thick layer of glistening wet skin that caught what little light filtered through the tunnel, slick with some kind of mucus that left a trail behind it. Its mouth was a horrible thing to look at, just a pulsing, toothless ring that seemed to vacuum everything in its path.
That's so disgusting.
Hill's stomach turned. The beast was bus-length, tree-trunk thick. The sounds that this thing made as it dragged itself forward was awful and uncomfortable to listen to, and he could smell its rank musk filling the cramped space. If he had to describe it, it smelled like rotting vegetation.
A week ago, he would have passed out cold at the sight. Now, after everything he'd seen, this monster barely registered as a shocker.
It was somewhat safe to say that Hill had begun to grow accustomed to the horrors of this world. The horrors of Igashia.
He waited, trying not to breathe, as the creature's sluggish body disappeared around a bend. Only when the squelching sounds faded did he decide to peel himself off the wall.
He couldn't risk getting into a fight with these mysterious monsters. Not right now, anyway.
He was all alone. That's what bothered him most. Unfortunately, Phoebe wasn't able to remain floating beside him, pointing out the dangers up ahead or listening to his stupid ramblings.
Apparently, even the phantom hand needed some downtime. When she'd first disappeared, he thought she'd gone off on her own to do some exploring.
Then, after she hadn't returned for a few minutes, he thought that maybe Phoebe had abandoned him. Perhaps she was annoyed at reading the thoughts of his mind or listening to his words. He began searching for her.
After several minutes of frantic searching, he decided to look inward in an attempt to see if there was anything in the soul art's description that could tell him what exactly was going on.
And there it was.
Strange runes had formed in his mind's eye right beneath the description of his soul art, shifting and rearranging until they spelled out words he somehow understood:
[Phantom Hand Recovery: 2%]
Great. Another problem.
He couldn't summon her in this state, and she seemed to only recover one lousy percent every ten minutes. At this rate, he'd be alone for hours.
At least she'd done enough reconnaissance before vanishing. The rock layer between his tunnel and where the cocooned woman was trapped formed a horseshoe shape. He just needed to follow this passage, round the bend, and double back down the other side. Simple enough in theory.
It's alright, I can do this, he told himself as he clenched his fists. I have the Frost Sentinel. I've got two good hands. No problem.
He kept walking, the moss-light casting his shadow long against the wall. At the turn, he paused, listening. Nothing but the soft drip of water somewhere in the darkness ahead. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and rounded the corner.
----
Adelaide's leg burned. It was as if someone had poured gasoline on it and struck a match, lighting it on fire.
The creature's bite had torn through the muscles and tendons of her right leg, venom flooding the wound. Even with her Queen of Serpents blessing, working hard to neutralize the poison, the damage was done.
Blood soaked her shredded pants leg. She'd never felt pain like this—not even when she'd broken her arm in three places falling from a tree when she was twelve. This was different. A sharper pain that was much more insistent.
The creature wasn't doing so hot either. Adelaide's poisonous blood had messed it up real good.
It huddled in the corner, legs twitching, mandibles clicking spasmodically. Its many eyes kept darting toward her, filled with what looked like hatred.
Occasionally, it would spit out blood.
But she knew it was temporary. This creature wouldn't die from her venom, not that easily. She was as good as dead.
The thing would crush her skull like an egg using one of its legs. She twisted against the webbing again, muscles straining, but it didn't give. Not even an inch.
Nobody was coming. Nobody knew she was here. She was going to die in this hole.
She groaned inwardly as another wave of pain overwhelmed her body, her condition getting worse as time ticked onwards.
I'm sorry, father...
----
Hill squeezed through the crevice, the rough stone scraping his shoulders. The space beyond was darker, tighter. The air smelled weird though—mustier, with a strange metal undertone that reminded him of blood.
His eyes struggled to adjust. The glowing moss wasn't as populous here, with just a few pathetic patches offering barely enough green light to see by. But he did hear something—movement in the shadows of the space, and a strange nasally breathing sound.
"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone there?"
The movement stopped instantly. The breathing also paused, before suddenly accelerating.
Hill squinted into the darkness, inching forward. He couldn't see too clearly, his exhaustion taking its toll.
Sweat began to accumulate on his forehead despite the coolness of the air. His heart hammered against his ribs.
Is that the woman breathing like that? Or something else?
Suddenly, a shape staggered out from the shadows—massive and alien in composition.
It had six legs. A body that looked like someone had taken parts from a scorpion, an ant, and a spider and mashed them together into some unholy creation.
It had a black carapace that somehow both absorbed and reflected the weak light of the moss.
It also had mandibles that looked like they could snip his arm off clean as well as a segmented tail that ended in a dripping stinger.
But something was wrong with it. Bloody foam was bubbling out from its mouth, dripping onto the floor in short intervals. Its movements were jerky and shaky. From his perspective, it looked like the creature was having a seizure.
What in Igashia had happened to this thing?
Despite its sorry state, the monster was definitely still dangerous.
Acknowledging Hill's presence, It hissed loudly, a sound like steam escaping a pressure valve of a cooker, and lunged at him.