Once the warmth had returned to their limbs and their gear was dry, Viera and Janni stepped forward and pulled against the ancient doors.

  The stone parted easier than its size would suggest, revealing a massive chamber beyond.

  Dolen stepped forward, hand raised, a shimmering light floating ahead of him.

  No ambush came.

  Only silence.

  The space was larger than anything David had expected to find underground. The ceiling arched above, its apex outside the light. From the circular chamber radiated eight long tunnels, evenly spaced like spokes on a wheel. Nine, counting the one they’d just emerged from.

  Shards of chitin crunched faintly beneath their boots. Signs of combat were everywhere.

  Desiccated centipede corpses lay strewn across the floor. Most were clustered near a specific tunnel on the far side of the chamber, their limbs tangled and broken, some melted, others torn apart.

  David stepped lightly, eyes scanning the room.

  Statues lined the perimeter, many worn down by time; cracked, leaning, or broken in half. Some had humanoid features, vaguely familiar in form, but distorted. Too bulky. too many arms.

  Others were completely monstrous: beasts twisted into decorative poses. A few had fallen over, no doubt during the fighting. A massive centipede body lay draped across a few figures.

  Only their shallow breaths interrupted the silence.

  The group moved cautiously to the center of the room. Hiveo refused to go near the corpse pile. Dolen sniffed the air, frowning, but said nothing. Viera scanned the branching tunnels, then pointed to the one farthest from the carnage.

  “We’ll try this one,” she said.

  They entered the tunnel together.

  It was massive—easily large enough for a caravan to pass through—and immediately began to branch, with entrances every few steps. Some doorways were as grand as the main tunnel, others so narrow a person would have to crouch and crawl.

  Within the branchings, various carvings covered the walls, and sometimes even the ceilings. David slowed to read. He couldn't help it. His fingers traced faint indentations in the wall.

  “Come on,” Janni murmured as she passed. “You’ll have your fill of reading once we find something worthwhile.”

  He followed, but his eyes kept drifting. With every step, the carvings changed. The deeper they went, the cleaner the lines. Less wear. Sharper figures.

  It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing.

  The tunnel seemed incredibly old, and yet, the deeper they went, the newer it became.

  A history in reverse. Centuries of record, walked in minutes.

  At last, the tunnel opened into a small chamber where a massive side tunnel had been sealed off by an ornate door, flanked by narrow vertical slits in the walls. Its frame was lined with intricate metal inlays that shimmered faintly in the light.

  There were black marks around the door.

  Dolen raised a hand. “Stop.”

  Everyone froze.

  He whispered an incantation, and glowing blue lines appeared across the stone. Ambient mana, drawn like ink in air. A faint pulse glimmered beside the door.

  “There,” he said, pointing. “The doors are trapped.”

  Hiveo swore softly and took a step back.

  Dolen slowly walked up, a grin on his face. “Let’s start here.”

  He sat down in front of the doors and traced the edges of the runes with his finger.

  “We’ll continue on. You know what to look for, right?” Viera said as she and Janni started to walk away.

  “Better than you do.” Hiveo was growing more abrasive by the minute.

  Something was amiss. Yeah they were in an underground ruin, possibly full of monsters, but they were ready for that. Supposedly.

  Hiveo acted as if it was his first time in a risky situation. Did he know something the others didn’t? Is that why he didn’t want to come?

  David lingered a few steps behind, looking around.

  Everything about this place was fascinating to him.

  The scale. The beauty… And its purpose.

  Any and all words he could make out in passing were about family, tribe and everyday life.

  Why?

  His heart beat faster. Deep inside he already knew the answer.

  Monsters had a different side to them. Or at least they used to.

  He had suspected it earlier, but this… was definite proof.

  Suddenly, David wanted to know all about that. He moved closer to a smaller tunnel, only a bit taller than he was.

  The carvings here were shoddy and lacked ornamentation, but the text remained mostly legible. It seemed recent.

  Comparably recent.

  He traced the lines cut in stone with his finger, and slowly, word by word, started reading.

  The text was hard to translate, with David often having to boil down whole lines to one or two words. The grammar did not match what he had learned from Aura.

  It was a struggle. In the end, it turned out to be a series of separate entries. Almost like a journal.

  “Father passed. Tribe split. Brother keeps caves; Many follow me. Even to the outskirts. We will ascend.“

  A young, ambitious chief taking over half the tribe carved the beginning of this tunnel.

  Did they start a new tunnel for each mini-tribe? David thought of the amount of branching passages they saw earlier.

  No way.

  The script itself was simple, mostly using connected straight lines, painstakingly carved into solid stone.

  What did they look like? Were they humanoid in shape? Or completely different from us?

  Too many questions and no one to ask them.

  The next entry had a different ‘handwriting’. The lines were thinner, more precise and bendy, but the meaning itself was still a mess to be unraveled.

  “King approved. Tribe ascended. Smaller. Stronger. Many new broods. Many offers. Brother angry.”

  David nearly whistled. However many years had passed between entries, the chief had earned the king’s favor.

  There was a fairly ornate symbol under the bulk of the entry. Did they become some kind of nobility? Then why would he keep writing in such a poor tunnel?

  Supposedly, their bodies changed with it–so much that even their cursive had a different shape.

  Was it something like when he absorbed the golden strands?

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  He went back and tried to re-read the relevant passages a few times, but there simply wasn’t any deeper information about the process of ascension.

  David decided to keep an eye out for mentions of it and shelved the idea.

  “King proud. New matriarch come. Many assets. Alluring presence. Brother attacked. Lost. Not finished.”

  David let out a small sigh.

  Of all the things… Over half the entry focused on how attractive the matriarch was.

  Maybe they were similar to us, after all? David chuckled.

  He stepped forward, looking for more. There had to be more.

  And then—

  The next section of wall was… destroyed.

  No text or meaningful carvings. Just deep, rough slashes across the surface, clustered together.

  They looked almost like they were pressed into the stone, as if something melted it.

  At first, David recoiled, thinking that someone was trying to destroy the records, but the longer he stared at them, the marks gave off an uncanny feeling

  He stared for a long moment, then raised his hand—and pressed it gently to the smallest mark.

  He remembered seeing similar things many times in his education back on Earth. He understood.

  Hand prints. Or, claw prints, I guess.

  These weren’t meant to erase anything or destroy.

  David’s heart pounded as he knelt before the markings.

  There were three sets, all quite distinct.

  One large, with three deep grooves. The second one was shallower but with many more grooves. Some of the lines between the two intersected.

  And between them, barely a handspan wide, a third set. The one David was pressing against right now.

  A family?

  The ones who had left those markings behind were probably sure they needed no explanation or context.

  He started to move forward, eyes scanning for further entries, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

  David jolted, instinctively pulling back.

  Hiveo stood behind him, bent in two, struggling to fit into the smaller tunnel.

  “Are you deaf?” he snapped. “We don’t have time to waste.”

  David blinked, still lost in the moment. “I was just—”

  “Who cares,” Hiveo said. “The doors are open.”

  He wasn’t ready to leave this story behind, but he knew he had to.

  David straightened slowly, something burning in his chest. He pushed it down and swallowed it. “Yes, mister Hiveo.”

  “Better.” Hiveo nodded, his face scrunched up as he awkwardly tried to leave the tunnel.

  David bit back his anger. Obviously, he was here for work, and so work took precedence… But were they in such a rush that a minute or two would kill him?

  David walked out of the narrow tunnel, still absorbed in what he’d seen.

  Was it kinship? Melancholy?

  Hiveo gave him no time to linger and settle his thoughts.

  Armed men and women, around a dozen in total, stood at intervals along the walls now. They must have followed in after the initial group made it deeper.

  They watched the darkness, making idle chatter, however stiffly.

  Hiveo tapped his cane by the ornate doors. No sign of Dolen.

  The air in the ruin was shifting, growing heavier with each passing moment. David immediately recognized the way his skin started to prickle.

  The eclipse was starting, and it was probably already dark outside.

  David glanced at the worn stone walls, wondering if they really were safe here. There were half a thousand people between him and the monsters… But if the worst came, would that be enough? He hoped he wouldn’t find out.

  Soon, Janni returned. “Dolen stayed back with Viera. They’re still working on the second set of doors.” She eyed the gaudy entrance. “We should go ahead without them.”

  She gave David a quick glance before falling in beside them, one hand resting on her sword hilt.

  The three of them moved into the decorated corridor.

  Immediately, the difference was stark.

  Where the side passages had been rough, like personal journals, this tunnel was grand.

  The walls shimmered with embedded magic, flickers of illusory light playing across their surfaces like veins of color.

  The carvings were cleaner, more refined. In some places, faint pigments still clung to the lines—reds, golds, and dusky blues.

  It was beautiful as it was haunting.

  David slowed instinctively, eyes darting across the mural-like walls.

  Figures with wings carved from curling vines. Beasts captured in battles long forgotten. Sprawling encampments immortalized as imagery. Below it all, text ran in elegant sweeps, looping through each panel like a guiding thread.

  He wanted to read everything.

  But Hiveo’s voice snapped him out of it.

  “Scan for keywords. Spell. Artifact. Vault. Hoard. There’s no time for dallying.”

  David clenched his jaw. He gave no reply, only nodded and kept walking. He skipped vast sections of intricate prose, catching only fragmented sentences as he passed.

  His heart ached at every one. This was a culture lost to time, and he was just passing through.

  They moved deeper into the tunnel. Every few meters, David caught something of importance, but Hiveo discarded all of it.

  Not important enough.

  Only when he reached the halfway point did something truly stand out.

  A wall-sized relief showed a layout of nearby terrain. A map. Ancient and weathered, but with multiple places marked.

  David stopped and tapped it with his knuckles, eager to get the older man off his back. “Here. This shows where their tribe lived and marks some vaults. Or storerooms. The words are too similar.”

  Hiveo was beside him in moments. “Go on.”

  David read out the accompanying script—landmarks, boundaries, warnings—and Hiveo began transcribing quickly, charcoal scratching over parchment. When he was done, Hiveo stepped back and waved him on. “Keep moving. I’ll sketch the map.”

  David continued on.

  Not ten meters further, he saw a familiar symbol carved low into the stone.

  It was the mark of the chief from the small tunnel.

  His breath caught. He crouched to read.

  “Third ascendance. Empty promises. Strengthened bodies. Weakened minds. Keep watch: [unknown], [unknown], [chief’s mark].”

  David frowned.

  Whoever carved this tunnel was not a fan of others’ ascensions. Jealousy? Or was there some darker truth to the whole endeavour. He couldn’t tell.

  There were no further mentions of either the chief or anything valuable for a few more meters.

  Until he stood face to face with a giant list. Of names. Well, marks, but they seemed to fulfil the same function.

  He read on, faster now.

  Dozens.

  Hundreds.

  He had almost reached the bottom before he saw it again. The chief’s mark.

  David stared. What’s this about?

  The bottom of the list thankfully had an inscription. David read it once. Then a second time. Something was wrong.

  “Fallen defenders in the first contact.”

  His throat dried. His fingers curled into fists.

  They were killed in the first battle. Wiped out.

  By the invaders. It can’t be, right?

  His eyes followed a wall to a nearby image, half-faded and smeared with time. But it was clear enough.

  A group of tall, bipedal figures wielding metal weapons and wrapped in segmented armor.

  He staggered backward, chest tight.

  Humans.

  In hindsight, it was obvious how the story had to end, especially if it was even remotely recent.

  He didn’t hear Hiveo return until the older man’s voice hissed beside him. “You done wasting time?”

  David didn’t reply.

  Hiveo scowled. “We’re paying you a veritable mountain of silver and gold, and yet you insist on playing around?”

  David hung his head, but his mind was still with the deceased monster chief. “No.. I…”

  Hiveo’s cane hit David’s thigh with incredible force, eliciting a loud whimper. “If you don’t start doing your job properly, I’ll get you thrown out of the city.”

  David’s knee buckled as streams tore from his face. He looked toward Janni, who stood by the wall. The woman was completely uninterested in their conflict, looking away.

  Finding no support, David forced himself to nod. “I’ll do better, sir.”

  “Get on with it.” Hiveo said, scowling. “You need to get better for future jobs.”

  David’s head burned. He wasn’t even sure why. Too many emotions and thoughts to keep track of. “But this is my last job here.”

  “And what makes you think that?” Hiveo raised his brow. “Nevermind. We’ll talk in the city. Focus.”

  It was a random comment, probably just some miscommunication between the rebel leaders… but it made the ground feel unsteady under David’s feet.

  Everything boiled within his head, fighting for his attention: The lost legacy of the monster civilization. The pain. Hiveo’s abuse and sinnister comment.

  He turned, trying to refocus. He found another set of carvings and pushed himself to read. A description of a spell, maybe. Something about bloodlines and thresholds.

  Who cares? He would inspect it back in the city, he had no space for it now.

  He pointed it out, and Hiveo returned to copy it.

  David slowly moved his finger along the wall, jaw tight, pretending to read.

  He could barely concentrate.

  Hiveo’s voice echoed in his ears: “thrown out of the city.”

  Like what almost happened to Sophie.

  David had carried so many doubts about the rebels but had ignored them along the way.

  Sophie’s arrest.

  Viera’s ‘offers’.

  “randomly” stumbling upon age-old ruins.

  But if they were all connected…

  The world around him spun as all the puzzle pieces started to click together.

  Was I manipulated from the start?

  A scream tore through the air.

  Then another. Or was it an echo?

  Janni was on her feet instantly, blade drawn. Hiveo’s eyes widened as he tightened his grip on the cane. David’s breath caught, his heart thumping in his ears.

  He stared down the winding tunnel. Half of his mind listened to the terrifying sounds–Other was half drowned in paranoid thoughts.