The stairwell spiraled downward, stone groaning with each step. Ash sifted from cracks above, drifting like pale snow. Feyra padded close, fur brushing Draven's leg. Stonehide lumbered behind, tail scraping wall, claws clinking on stone.
The hum in the air had deepened, steady now, like a buried drumbeat.
Draven's knife was in his hand, palm slick with sweat. He did not expect silence to last.
He was right.
The growl came first — wrong, distorted. It echoed through the stairwell in doubled tones, as if two throats shared one voice. Then claws scratched stone. Shadows shifted ahead.
Draven froze. Feyra's hackles rose, Stonehide hissed low.
The beasts emerged.
They had once been wolves. Servitors, small and lean. But the Ruins had warped them. Extra limbs jutted from shoulders, mouths split wider than nature intended, eyes burning faint green. Slave marks glowed across their hides, not red like Dominion's brands, but etched in emerald fire.
Three of them. A pack.
They barred the stairwell, growling with doubled voices.
Draven's breath caught. His knife felt far too small.
Then his boot struck something in the dust. He glanced down — a rusted blade, snapped near the hilt. He stooped, snatched it up. The edge was jagged, almost useless. But it was steel, and in this place, he needed every scrap.
The first beast lunged.
Draven swung. The rusted blade met twisted bone — and snapped in half with a screech. Shards clattered against stone. He staggered back, cursing, knife flashing up in desperation.
Stonehide slammed forward, scales flaring faint green. The warped wolf struck its plated shoulder, teeth snapping against emerald shimmer. The impact rattled the hall, Stonehide's bulk holding firm.
Feyra darted in. A pulse of warmth burst from her, green light blooming across the corridor. The nearest beast faltered mid-leap, its doubled voice choking, limbs stiffening for an instant. Draven seized the chance — knife flashing, he slashed across its glowing mark.
The beast shrieked. Its body spasmed, chains of glyph-light tearing loose from its skin before it collapsed into ash and fragments.
But the others closed in.
One lunged low. Draven kicked at the floor, striking something hard — a broken spearhead half-buried in dust. He snatched it, drove it up in a desperate thrust. The warped wolf impaled itself on the jagged metal, snarling as green fire bled from its wound.
The last beast struck fast. It slammed Draven to the ground, claws raking his arm. Pain seared — glyphs crawled across his skin, trying to etch themselves in, a false mark burning into flesh.
Draven screamed.
Feyra's cry split the air. She leapt, jaws snapping on the glowing glyph, biting the mark itself. Green light shattered, scattering like glass. The beast howled, stunned.
Stonehide roared. Plates flaring, it lunged and slammed the creature against the wall. Glyphs cracked beneath the impact, bursting in sparks. The warped wolf convulsed — then dissolved into ash.
Silence fell.
Draven lay gasping, clutching his scorched arm. The false glyph faded, leaving only red burns. Feyra pressed close, her warmth seeping into the wound, easing the sting. Stonehide crouched beside them, scales dimming but steadier, its rumble protective.
Draven forced himself to his feet, chest heaving. His knife was bloodied, the scavenged spearhead bent. The rusted sword's shard lay broken at his feet.
The corridor around them pulsed. Glyphs in the walls flared bright green, light spilling like veins of fire. Not in anger. In acknowledgment.
Draven stared, sweat dripping down his face. He realized, slowly, what the Ruins had shown him.
It wasn't strength they measured. It was choice.
He tightened his grip on Feyra's fur, pressed a hand to Stonehide's plated neck. Both beasts looked up at him — not as tools, not as chained things, but as companions, standing with him in this place of chains.
Draven turned to the stairwell ahead. A spiral descended deeper, lit faint emerald. The hum below was louder now, steady as a heartbeat.
He whispered, voice rough but steady:
"Something waits below."
And he led them down.