The legends told of monsters sealed beneath the earth.
Most had forgotten. Others never believed at all.
But Hero… Hero was different.
He had always felt it—that distant hum beneath his feet when he walked alone in the forest, the way his dreams flickered with shadowy creatures and ancient voices. The other children laughed at him. Even the village elders dismissed his questions.
But Hero knew. Something was down there.
He was twelve winters old, with messy dark hair, a stitched-up coat two sizes too big, and a wooden sword always strapped to his back. He wasn't the strongest, or the fastest. But he was curious—burningly, dangerously curious.
One morning, drawn by a dream he couldn't remember, Hero wandered deeper into the forest than ever before. The trees grew old and twisted, their roots thick like claws. Birds no longer sang. And then, he found it.
A crack in the ground.
It wasn't wide, just enough for a child to slip through. A cold wind whispered from it, carrying a scent of dust, magic… and sorrow.
His heart pounded. Every instinct screamed for him to turn back.
But Hero wasn't the turning-back kind.
With a deep breath, he gripped his wooden sword, crouched low—and dropped into the darkness.
The fall seemed to last forever.
Then—he landed.
He rose, groaning, brushing dirt from his coat. Glowing mushrooms lit the cavern walls. Crystals pulsed faintly in the stone. And in the distance… something moved.
Hero had entered the Underground.
And the monsters were waiting.