Feed Me More
The corridor beyond the Hollowed Sentinel's chamber stretched into an abyss of silence and shadow. Walls, once smooth stone, now bore jagged veins of black crystal, pulsing faintly like arteries beneath diseased skin. They throbbed with an unseen rhythm—slow, methodical, and alive.
Mephisto walked forward, each step echoing like a death toll.
Hollowfang rested across his back, its jagged edge wrapped in coils of sleep. Yet even dormant, the weapon hummed like something dreaming of slaughter. Like a beast waiting for blood.
His boots crunched over gravel and bone.
[System Update: You have entered a New Zone — The Forgotten Depths]
[Threat Level: Moderate to High]
[Void Saturation: 48%]
[Warning: Prolonged exposure may accelerate Corruption]
He paused, eyes narrowing. The air here tasted bitter, heavy with unseen rot.
"Void saturation..." he muttered, voice barely a whisper. "So it's not just the enemies that can kill me."
The system didn't reply.
It never did.
But the walls did.
Whispers slid over the stone like wet fingers—soft, hissing things that coiled around his mind. They said nothing discernible, only echoes of meaning long forgotten. Still, they were cold, colder than death, and sharp enough to raise the hairs along his neck.
He pressed onward.
The path narrowed, framed by stone pillars that bore the scars of battle—gouges, black scorch marks, and the occasional skeletal hand fused into the walls. Along one curve, a crumbling mural caught his eye. Etched in aged gold and soot-stained marble, it depicted a radiant knight—haloed and defiant—impaled upon a spear of black fire.
All around him, shadows knelt.
Not in defeat.
In worship.
Or worse… submission.
Mephisto's jaw clenched.
The sound came then—low and guttural. Not human. Not beast. Something in-between, something that shouldn't be.
[New Objective: Survive]
[Warning: Unknown Entity Detected]
[Estimated Level: ???]
His hand reached for Hollowfang.
The blade pulsed beneath his grip—Void runes flaring faintly along the edge. It welcomed his touch, as if waking from slumber, as if eager.
The hallway ahead darkened, light fading unnaturally. Stone twisted, and then—
A flicker.
A blur of movement down the corridor, too fast to track. Low to the ground. Silent.
Mephisto froze, eyes scanning the dark.
Nothing.
No sound. No breath. Just silence.
Then—
CLANG!
A claw the size of a man's arm exploded from the shadows, slamming into the wall beside him. Cracks spiderwebbed through the stone. Dust burst outward like a shroud.
Mephisto darted back, boot skidding against the floor just as a second strike carved the space where he had stood.
A shape emerged.
Lumbering, hunched. Wrong.
Its limbs were long—too long—and jointed in ways that defied nature. Its skin was ash-gray and stretched thin, veins bulging with sickly black Void. A shattered porcelain mask was stitched into its flesh, fused with metal wire and bone. From beneath it, a gurgle escaped—thick with Void ichor dripping like venom from its gaping maw.
[Voidspawn: Masked Wretch]
[Level: 6]
[Status: Aggressive | Rabid | Corrupted]
It shrieked, the sound scraping across Mephisto's skull like rusted steel.
Then it lunged.
Mephisto moved, faster.
He met the charge with Hollowfang drawn in a single, fluid motion. The greatsword shrieked through the air as it slammed into the creature's shoulder—crack—severing sinew and snapping bone. Black blood splashed across the ground.
The Wretch didn't stop.
It snarled, clawing at his chest. Mephisto ducked under the blow, twisted his torso, and countered—Hollowfang slicing a ragged arc through its ribcage. Chunks of flesh flew free.
He stepped in, driving his heel into the creature's knee. There was a sickening pop.
It dropped.
Mephisto didn't hesitate.
He seized the Wretch's head with one hand, ignoring the writhing claws scraping his armor, and drove Hollowfang down—through mask, bone, and skull.
The beast twitched once, then fell still.
[Enemy Defeated: Void Essence +2]
[EXP Gained: 54]
He exhaled slowly, breath misting in the frigid air. Around him, silence returned—but it was watching. Listening.
"So it's not just the big ones I have to worry about…"
He looked down at his hand—coated in that thick, black ichor. It was warm. It pulsed faintly, as if alive.
And somewhere deep inside, the Void… stirred.
A voice—barely audible—slithered through his mind.
"You liked that... didn't you?"
He didn't flinch.
Didn't deny it.
[System Alert: Minor Corruption Increase]
A faint hum echoed in his chest. The Corruption hadn't just grown—it had evolved, learned the shape of him. And he could feel it now, wrapping tendrils around his thoughts like a second skin.
He stared at Hollowfang—still dripping with black blood.
"Feed me more," he whispered, echoing the blade's silent hunger.
Something in the weapon pulsed.
The air shifted.
The catacombs creaked around him, old bones stirring. From the darkness ahead, a dozen eyes opened—glowing faintly, blinking in unison.
Movement.
Shambling.
Lurching.
And Mephisto…
He smiled.
Not out of joy.
Not out of arrogance.
But because something inside him—something deep and cruel—had begun to wake.
And it wanted this.
It craved the slaughter.
[Multiple Hostiles Detected]
[Voidspawn: Masked Wretch ×3 | Shadowborn Feral ×2]
[Void Saturation Rising — 51%]
[System Suggestion: Retreat Recommended]
[Override Option: Engage Regardless?]
Mephisto answered with steel.
He stepped forward, slow and steady, dragging Hollowfang behind him. The edge scraped against stone, singing a low dirge. Shadows writhed ahead.
And then—
He ran.
Straight into them.
And the dark ran with him.