The Emberheart's carcass was long behind them now, its heat fading into the cooled basalt underfoot. The chamber ahead opened wide — a maze of jagged rock spires and shallow pools where faint bioluminescence shimmered on the water's surface.
Ezra was the first to break away from the group, stepping lightly into the shadowed alcoves where pale-leafed plants clung to the rock. She crouched low, gloved hands careful as she clipped a handful of thin-stemmed stalks whose petals pulsed faintly in alternating blue and green. The scent that rose from them was sharp — medicinal, yet faintly metallic.
"These aren't common," she said softly to herself, tucking them into a sealed pouch.
Across the chamber, Gideon worked at a different task. The walls here were streaked with veins of deep crimson ore, and his pickaxe rang with a solid, satisfying note each time it bit into the stone. His haul so far was respectable — several fist-sized chunks of glimmering mineral stacked neatly in a satchel.
But he wasn't the only one interested in them.
Kaelvryn padded silently up beside him, its massive frame brushing the cavern wall. Gideon's grip tightened on his pickaxe as the Riftborn beast sniffed at the pile, then, without hesitation, crunched one of the glowing stones between its jagged crystal teeth.
"…You can't just—" Gideon began, then stopped himself. Kaelvryn stared at him with mismatched ember-blue eyes, chewing slowly. Gideon sighed. "…Fine. But leave me at least half."
Kaelvryn ignored the request entirely, tail flicking lazily as it reached for another.
At the center of the chamber, Skyling perched motionless on a basalt pillar, her eyes closed, wings slightly outstretched. Threads of pale aura drifted toward her from every direction, drawn from minerals, plants, and the faint residual traces of defeated monsters. The air around her shimmered faintly, a quiet whirlpool of absorbed essence.
Eliakim remained at the edge of the light, Codex of Imreth open in his hands. His eyes darted between the shifting map overlay and the gathered samples of ore and flora laid out beside him. Every few moments he glanced toward the shadows at the far ends of the chamber, as though marking invisible hazard zones on a mental blueprint.
"The mineral seams run in a spiral pattern," he murmured. "And the herb clusters… they're following the same curve. This floor's not random."
Near the rear wall, Caleb sat cross-legged on a flat slab of rock, his attention fixed on a spread of arrowheads before him. He worked a whetstone along the edge of each, the sound crisp and even. One by one, he checked their balance, then set them aside in neat rows.
For a long while, the chamber was filled only with the soft sounds of gathering, grinding stone, and Skyling's low, steady hum as she drew in more energy. The Codex's shifting runes showed no immediate danger.
Then, without warning, the stillness broke.
A sound — faint, deliberate — echoed from beyond the far corridor. Slow footsteps, heavy, descending stone steps in the dark. The temperature seemed to drop by a fraction, the air sharpening.
Ezra froze mid-movement. Gideon straightened. Kaelvryn's head lifted, a low growl building in its throat.
From the black mouth of the stairway above, a shadow stretched slowly across the floor.
The figure — or thing — was still out of sight. But it was coming.