The watchtower was even more dilapidated up close. Its stone walls were scarred with deep gouges, and the top half had crumbled away, leaving a jagged silhouette against the bruised sky. The open doorway was a maw of absolute darkness, promising little comfort.
Lucian paused at the threshold, his new talon held ready. The air flowing out of the tower was stale and heavy with the smell of dust and something else… something faintly sweet, like rot. He glanced back at the illusions. The veteran met his gaze with a grim nod, while the other two huddled behind him, their eyes wide with fear. They wouldn't enter without him.
"Stay close. Don't touch anything unless I say so," Lucian commanded before stepping into the gloom.
Inside, the darkness was almost total. The only light filtered in through the doorway and a few narrow arrow slits high up on the walls. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The ground floor was a single, circular room, empty save for a thick layer of dust and rubble. A crumbling stone staircase, missing several steps, spiraled up one wall into the shadows above.
The burly man, the "foolhardy soldier," shivered, rubbing his arms. "I don't like this place. It feels… wrong."
"It's a tomb," the veteran added, his voice a low whisper.
Lucian ignored their scripted commentary. His attention was drawn to the walls. Faint markings were carved into the stone, almost obscured by time and grime. He ran his fingers over the surface, brushing away the dust. They were pictograms, a crude story carved by a desperate hand.
The first carving showed stick figures with spears standing on the tower, facing a massive, swirling vortex in the sky—a Gate. From the Gate, monstrous shapes, vaguely insectoid with too many limbs, were pouring out.
The second carving depicted a brutal battle. The stick figures were fighting the insectoid monsters. Many were falling.
The third showed the survivors, a handful of figures, barricading the door of the tower.
The final carving was the most chilling. It was a single, massive creature, much larger than the others. It had a vaguely humanoid torso, but its lower body was a monstrous, centipede-like tangle of legs, and it brandished four scythe-like arms. The stick figures were all lying dead at its feet. Below the carving was a single, deeply etched word in a language Lucian didn't know, yet somehow understood through the Spell's translation.
Hive-Scythe.
"So that's it," Lucian murmured to himself. This wasn't just a random battlefield. It was the site of a last stand. A small garrison of soldiers had been overwhelmed by a swarm of monsters from a Gate, and they had made their final defense in this very tower, only to be slaughtered by the swarm's leader. The central conflict of his Nightmare.
His trial wasn't just to "survive." It was to succeed where these soldiers had failed. He had to kill the Hive-Scythe.
A low groan echoed from the floor above.
The illusions froze, their heads snapping upwards. The sound was a pained, guttural noise, followed by a wet, dragging sound.
"What was that?" the numb man whispered, his voice trembling.
"Probably just the wind," the burly man said, though his voice lacked any conviction.
Lucian knew better. The script was moving forward. "I'm going up," he said, moving towards the treacherous staircase. "You three, stay here. Barricade the door. If anything tries to get in, shout."
The veteran nodded, understanding the logic. He and the burly man began dragging a large, fallen stone towards the doorway. It was a futile gesture against a real threat, but it gave the illusions something to do, a sense of purpose that would keep them from panicking.
Lucian ascended the stairs cautiously, using the vulture talon to test each step before putting his weight on it. The dragging sound grew louder as he climbed, accompanied by a low, rhythmic clicking.
He reached the second floor. It was in even worse shape than the first. The roof had collapsed entirely, leaving the level open to the sky. In the center of the room lay the source of the noise.
It was a soldier, or what was left of one. He was still alive, barely. His armor was shattered, and his legs were mangled beyond recognition, leaving a trail of blood as he dragged himself across the floor with his arms. He was one of the stick figures from the carving, a living echo of the tower's last defender.
As Lucian watched from the shadows of the stairwell, the soldier reached the far wall and began to claw at the stone, his fingers bloody. He was trying to add to the carvings, to leave a final warning. His movements were weak, agonized.
The clicking sound came again, sharp and close. From a collapsed section of the wall, a creature emerged. It was one of the insectoid monsters from the carvings, a Drone. It was about the size of a large dog, with a segmented, chitinous body, six spindly legs, and two razor-sharp mandibles that clicked together hungrily.
The Drone ignored Lucian. Its multifaceted eyes were fixed on the dying soldier. It was here to finish the job.
Lucian weighed his options. He could let the Drone kill the soldier and hope it went away. But the soldier's presence felt important, like he held a key piece of information. And more importantly, the Drone was another source of soul fragments.
He had the element of surprise.
As the Drone scuttled towards the soldier, Lucian pushed off from the top step, his shackled feet hitting the stone floor with a soft thud. The creature whirled around, its mandibles snapping.
Lucian didn't give it time to react. He lunged forward, bringing the vulture talon down in a vicious, stabbing arc. He didn't aim for the hard carapace of its head or back. He aimed for the softer, more vulnerable joint where one of its legs met its body.
The talon sank deep. The Drone let out a high-pitched chitter of pain and fury, twisting around to slash at him with its mandibles. Lucian was already moving, yanking the talon free and sidestepping. The creature's attack missed by an inch.
It was faster than the vulture, more agile. It scuttled sideways, trying to flank him. But Lucian was faster, his mind processing the creature's movements, predicting its path. He was a scavenger from the Outskirts; he had spent a decade dodging violent gangers and crazed junk-hounds. This was just another dance.
He feinted to the left, and as the Drone moved to cut him off, he reversed direction, darting in close and driving the talon into the creature's eye. The multifaceted lens shattered, and green ichor sprayed out.
The Drone shrieked and reared back in agony, its movements becoming frantic and uncoordinated. It was the opening Lucian needed. He ducked under its flailing limbs, grabbed the chain of his shackles with both hands, and swung the heavy iron links like a club, putting all his weight behind the blow.
The shackles crashed against the Drone's wounded head with a sickening crack. The creature collapsed in a heap, its legs twitching for a few seconds before going still.
Another mote of light, larger and brighter than the one from the vulture, drifted from the corpse and into his chest. The warmth in his soul core intensified, a pleasant, empowering sensation.
He stood breathing heavily, turning his attention to the dying soldier. The man's eyes were glazed over, but they were fixed on him. His lips moved, and a single, rasping word escaped.
"...Key..."
His hand, slick with his own blood, pointed weakly towards a loose stone near the wall where he had been carving. Then, with a final, shuddering sigh, the echo faded, his body dissolving into motes of grey light that dissipated on the wind.
Lucian stared at the spot where the soldier had vanished, then walked over to the loose stone. He pried it free. In the small cavity behind it, nestled on a bed of rotting cloth, was a small, ornate key made of blackened iron.
It was the key to ending this Nightmare.
But as his fingers closed around it, a deep, resonant chittering sound echoed from outside the tower. It was a sound of command, of rage. It was answered by dozens of other, higher-pitched clicks from all around the desolate field.
The Hive-Scythe knew its Drone was dead. And it was calling its swarm.