They ran.
No plan. No pause. Just raw instinct—the kind that lived in the bones and screamed move.
Behind them, the dark howled.
Claws scraped stone. Snarls echoed. Dozens of Witherspawn poured from the tunnels, a tide of rotting limbs and gnashing teeth. The Phantom didn't speak. She didn't have to. Her sword flashed like lightning in the gloom, cutting down anything that got close.
Riven stumbled after her, breathing hard. His broken wrist throbbed like it had its own heartbeat. Each step sent agony up his arm, but he clenched his jaw and ran.
The walls were too close. The ceiling too low. It felt like the dark itself was pressing in, hungry.
He looked back once.
Just once.
Big mistake.
A Witherspawn was gaining—fast. Its limbs spidered across the stone like it was part of the tunnel, claws scraping sparks. Riven nearly tripped.
"Don't stop," the Phantom snapped, voice sharp.
He didn't answer. Couldn't. His lungs were on fire.
The corridor forked.
She veered left. Riven followed—barely. The new tunnel was tighter. Cramped. He slammed into a wall, shoulder-first, gritting his teeth as the pain exploded.
A hiss behind him.
Then—
Silence.
No growl. No claw scrape. Just... nothing.
That scared him more.
The Phantom slowed.
Then stopped.
Riven leaned against the wall, gasping. "Why... why did they stop?"
Her head tilted. Listening. "They didn't stop," she murmured. "They're waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
That was when the air changed.
The tunnel cooled. Like something was breathing down their necks—but not close. Just near enough to feel.
A shape moved in the shadows ahead.
No footsteps. No sound.
Just motion.
Like gravity itself bent for it.
Riven's skin went cold.
Something was coming. Not another pack. Not more Witherspawn.
Something worse.
The Phantom whispered it, low and breathless:
"Dreadspawn."
The word hung in the air like a curse.
Then it stepped into view.
Too tall for the tunnel. Its spine bent and cracked to fit. Limbs like dead branches. Skin stretched so tight it looked torn. A skull for a face—blank, smooth, and too long. Black slits where eyes should be. No mouth, but it made a sound anyway—a rattling breath that wasn't a breath, like wind scraping bone.
It just stood there.
Watching.
Then it moved.
Not fast. Not at first. Just a step forward. But something in that motion made Riven's gut twist. That thing shouldn't move. It shouldn't exist. It looked drawn, like some half-finished thing from a fever dream. It creaked like old wood as it walked.
And the tunnel behind them screamed alive again.
The pack was moving. Chasing. Driving them toward it.
The Phantom turned sharply. "Run."
"But"
"Run!"
They sprinted the other way, deeper into the unknown. Stone blurred past. The howls were everywhere now. Behind. Ahead. Like they were being herded.
Riven's vision blurred.
His legs burned.
He stumbled again.... caught himself.
The Phantom was ahead, sword glowing faint in the dark.
Then she stopped.
Riven skidded beside her.
A dead end.
No stairs. No ladder. Just a drop into black nothing.
He turned back. Heard them coming. Dozens.
And the Dreadspawn behind them… was still walking.
Still slow.
But it didn't have to be fast. It just was.
"What now?" he gasped.
The Phantom glanced at him. Her mask was cracked. Blood on her jaw.
She looked down.
Then back at him.
"We jump."
"You're kidding."
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
And without waiting, she leapt.
Riven stared after her, chest heaving.
Then he heard it. The Dreadspawn's breath, close now.
The Witherspawn right behind.
He didn't think.
He jumped.
---
The Darkness swallowed him whole.
He fell into nothing, pain and fear and cold air. His broken wrist screamed. His body twisted mid-air. The world spun.
And then—
Impact.
Stone.
Rough.
Unforgiving.
He rolled.
He lay there. Breathing. Shaking. The sound of claws above.
But no one followed.
Not yet.
The Phantom stood nearby, breathing hard. She didn't look at him.
Didn't speak.
Just waited.
Above them, the Dreadspawn stared down the hole.
Silent.
Watching.
Then it backed away.
Like it wasn't done yet.
Like it knew where they were going.
Riven didn't speak.
Couldn't.
The Phantom finally looked at him. Eyes narrow.
"You don't get it yet, do you?" she said. "That wasn't a monster."
He swallowed.
"What was it?"
She turned, walking deeper into the dark.
"We'll talk when we stop bleeding."