The First Offering

The path twisted downward, the air growing heavier with each step.

A thick, unnatural heat pulsed through the stone—not warmth, but hunger. The walls seemed alive, covered in fresh carvings, the same jagged runes the group had seen before.

Leila moved ahead of the others, her bow ready, scanning the passage for movement. "The air's different here."

Tomas nodded, his grip tightening on his sword. "This place isn't old. It's active."

Mira exhaled slowly, watching the shifting shadows. "Then let's move before it activates on us."

They pressed on.

Then they heard it.

A low, steady chant echoing from the chamber ahead.

Not in a language they understood.

But its meaning was clear.

A ritual.

Tomas raised a hand, signaling them to stop. "We go in together. Quietly. If they're doing what I think they are—"

Arlan stepped forward.

The others barely had time to react before he pushed ahead, eyes locked on the flickering torchlight beyond the passage.

Tomas hissed. "Arlan, wait—"

But it was too late.

They had arrived.

The Chamber of Chains

The vast cavern stretched before them, its ceiling lost in the gloom. Ancient chains, thick as tree trunks, descended from above, plunging into the depths of a massive pit. Some links were still intact—others lay shattered along the stone floor.

And at the center, the Vairlith.

Half a dozen of them, standing in a perfect circle around a bound, bleeding figure.

The last surviving scout.

His body was limp, barely clinging to life. His armor was stripped, his chest carved with glowing runes.

One of the Vairlith knelt beside him, a ritual dagger in its skeletal hands.

It lifted the blade—

Arlan moved.

A Shadow Bolt tore through the air.

The black magic collided with the Vairlith's side, sending the creature sprawling. Its flesh blackened and rotted instantly, its body convulsing as decay spread across its skin.

The others turned in eerie unison.

Tomas didn't hesitate. "Move! Stop the ritual—now!"

The Battle Begins

Beren charged first, his axe flashing in the dim torchlight.

The nearest Vairlith sidestepped with unnatural speed, its limbs bending at impossible angles. It lashed out with a bone-bladed weapon, but Beren caught the strike with his gauntlet, grinning.

"Yeah, no. Not today."

His axe came down.

The blade bit deep into its shoulder, dark blood spurting onto the stone.

Mira raised her staff. Fire roared to life.

A blast of flame shot toward the nearest enemy, forcing it to retreat. Leila loosed two arrows in quick succession, both striking true—one piercing a Vairlith's throat, the other slamming into its chest.

But they didn't scream.

Even as their bodies burned, even as they bled, they remained silent.

And they kept moving.

Arlan's Power Unleashed

Two Vairlith turned toward Arlan, their empty eyes locking onto him.

Not with fear.

With recognition.

One stepped forward, its bony fingers twitching. It spoke.

Not in words.

In thought.

"Defiler."

Arlan didn't flinch.

A wave of necrotic mist erupted from his hands, curling across the battlefield like a living thing. The moment it touched one of the Vairlith, their flesh withered, their movements faltering.

One tried to strike him.

He caught its wrist.

Rot spread instantly, flesh peeling away as if eaten by time itself. The creature jerked back, trembling, its fingers reduced to exposed bone.

For the first time, one of them hesitated.

The Sacrifice is Completed

Tomas drove his sword through a Vairlith's chest, slamming it against the stone before twisting the blade free. "We're winning! Push them back!"

But then—

A horrible, wet gasp.

The last scout shuddered violently, blood spilling from his lips.

Arlan turned in time to see the Vairlith's dagger embedded in his heart.

His eyes were wide, unfocused—his life already gone.

The runes on his skin flared, his body convulsing.

Then—silence.

A heartbeat later—

The ground shook.

Vorr'gol Stirs

The chains groaned.

The pit trembled.

The cavern filled with a deep, shuddering breath—the sound of something enormous inhaling for the first time in centuries.

A terrible hunger spread through the chamber.

Mira staggered. "Tell me that wasn't—"

Tomas's voice was grim. "The sacrifice worked."

Leila took a shaking breath. "It's waking up."

The remaining Vairlith staggered back, their wounds already beginning to close. They didn't look afraid.

They looked satisfied.

One of them turned toward Arlan.

Its lips barely moved.

"Not yet."

Then—they disappeared into the shadows.

Final Moments

Beren cursed. "Damn it! They're getting away!"

Tomas shook his head. "It doesn't matter." His gaze remained locked on the pit.

The chains trembled again.

Another heartbeat.

The air itself thickened.

Then—a sound.

A deep, bone-shaking growl, reverberating through the chamber.

It wasn't fully awake yet.

But it was aware.

Mira turned to Tomas. "Tell me we have a plan."

He exhaled sharply. "We stop them before they break the last chain."

Arlan's eyes lingered on the pit.

Something was stirring beneath the stone.

And for the first time…

It knew they were here.