The deeper they went, the more the dungeon lost its shape. Natural stone gave way to hallways etched in strange silver sigils. The air changed too—heavier, humming with something that didn't belong in a place of beasts and decay. Arlen's fingertips tingled with soul resonance. Kian walked ahead, silent and burning.
"This isn't just another layer," Arlen murmured. "This is... ancient."
Kian didn't slow. "Something's down here. Something that remembers me."
Arlen frowned. "What do you mean?"
He didn't answer. His grip on the sword tightened. The pulse had grown clearer, and now it carried something more—a thread of memory laced into it. Not Nyla's, but...
A door emerged from the dark. Tall, arched, engraved in crescent moons and symbols Kian hadn't seen since childhood. He paused.
"My mother used to draw these."
Arlen stepped up beside him. "Are you saying—"
He pushed the door. It creaked open, not resisting. A circular chamber lay beyond, aglow with green runes. And in the center, suspended in a prism of crystal, a figure.
A woman.
Kian's heart stopped. "No…"
She hadn't aged. Her hair, black and braided with silver threads, flowed around her weightlessly. Eyes shut. Hands crossed. Her presence radiated a soul-bound stillness, like she had become part of the dungeon itself.
"It's her," he whispered. "It's my mother."
Arlen moved slowly, scanning the runes. "She's alive. In stasis. And this spell... it wasn't cast by monsters. This was human-crafted."
Kian took a step forward—and alarms blared in the runes. Magic flared. Arlen yanked him back just as a projection shimmered into the air. A voice, warped with age and arcane distortion, echoed through the chamber.
"Subject 17B—classified: Soulweaver. Status: Stabilized. Observation ongoing. Purpose: Ascendance Protocol."
Kian stared, numb. "What did they do to her?"
Arlen swallowed. "She was right. They were experimenting. On her. On others like her."
"She went missing fifteen years ago," Kian said, voice cracking. "And they buried her here?"
Arlen approached the base of the crystal. "These sigils... they're siphoning her soul energy. Fueling the dungeon."
Kian's rage surged. "She became part of it. They built this hell on her back."
The chamber trembled, reacting to his fury. Runes flickered, and a secondary projection activated. A recording—grainy, but real.
His mother's voice.
"If anyone finds this—Kian, Nyla—I'm sorry. I failed to protect you. But they can't have your souls. The dungeon's core—they need bloodline resonance to awaken it. That's why they need you."
The image flickered and vanished.
Kian staggered back. Arlen caught him.
"They're still watching. They might know we're here now," she said. "You and Nyla—your blood could unlock something they've sealed."
Kian turned to his mother, his face pale but resolute. "Then I'll destroy it before they get the chance."
He raised his sword.
"No," Arlen said quickly. "We can't break the crystal. Not without killing her. There has to be a way to reverse the stasis."
Silence. Then a slow clap echoed from the shadows.
A new voice. Male. Mocking.
"You really think you'll get that far?"
A man stepped into the light. Tall, armored in black, with a serpent insignia on his chest. His eyes glowed faint green—soulbound.
"You must be Kian. I've waited a long time to meet you. And your mother... has served her purpose well."
Kian lunged, blade flashing—but the man vanished into smoke, reappearing at the far end of the room.
"She's your key, boy. And soon, your sister will be next."
Kian growled, "If you touch her—"
"Oh, I won't," the man said, smiling. "You will. Willingly. When the time comes."
The chamber exploded in light as a summoning gate flared to life. The enemy vanished into it.
Kian turned to Arlen. "We need to find the core. Now."
She nodded. "And your mother?"
"I'll come back for her. When I've torn every last one of them down."
Together, they ran. The war wasn't coming.
It had already begun.
End of Chapter 8