The hole inside the tree spiraled downward, gnarled roots forming twisted rungs for Adrian to grip. It widened as he went, becoming more tunnel than shaft. The walls pulsed faintly, damp and quiet, save for his slow breath and the scratch of his boots against soil and bark.
He climbed for minutes — or maybe longer.
Eventually, the vertical tunnel opened into a stone corridor.
Adrian dropped down silently, landing in a crouch.
The space was clearly man-made — even in its age and ruin. The walls were carved stone, lined with moss and strange, eroded murals. Long-dead sconces clung to the walls like brittle fingers. The floor beneath his boots was tiled, cracked, and ancient.
"This… doesn't belong to them."
His voice echoed softly.
These creatures — fleshy, twisted, primal — couldn't have built this.
The hallway stretched in both directions, devoured by darkness. Adrian tried to sense ahead…
Nothing.
No blood. No heat. Just dust and stone.
He chose a direction and walked, tomahawks swinging gently on his back. May's absence lingered for a few minutes — until the bats came.
They burst from a collapsed archway above, screeching and flapping past his face.
"Gah—!" Adrian stumbled back, axe half-drawn.
"Seriously?" May said flatly, her voice behind him. "Two-hundred fifty days of mutant murder and bats are what get you?"
"Shut up."
"You jumped like a grandma with arthritis."
The corridor widened with every step. Arched ceilings gave way to domes. Support columns like skeletal arms lined the sides, broken and leaning.
Then, it hit.
A wave of presence.
Blood. Movement. Mass.
Suddenly, Adrian could sense them. His vision flared red as the creatures poured into his awareness.
"They're here."
Hundreds. Maybe more. And he wasn't even close to all of them.
They had gathered here. All of them.
Adrian slowed his breath, taking it in. The sheer size… It was the largest concentration he'd ever felt. They scurried and writhed behind distant walls, hiding in crevices, climbing on ceilings, crawling through ducts.
And the structure itself… It still didn't make sense.
He'd found the occasional shipwreck, odd bits of armor or coins. But never a civilization. This place felt like it predated the monsters entirely.
"What the hell is this island?"
At the end of the corridor, the stone gave way to vastness.
A massive temple hall opened up before him — ruined and echoing, its black stone cracked and swallowed by time. Pillars, toppled and leaning. A collapsed altar. And shadowed recesses brimming with them.
Hundreds of the creatures.
Crawling. Perched. Sleeping. Lurking.
The darkness was absolute — until Adrian breathed out.
A thick, red mist began to seep from him — spiraling from his skin like smoke from an ember. It slid across the stone floor, covering a six-meter radius.
Force Dominion.
A radiant aura of red light pooled around him — like a glowing blood tide.
The mist was more than light. It pulled.
Any monster entering the radius would be dragged, slowed, anchored to his gravity. A trap and a lure. It moved with him — an extension of his will, swirling like a storm at his feet.
It also lit him up like a flare in a cave of wolves.
"Subtle," May muttered, materializing beside him.
"It's a challenge."
"Or a suicide note."
Adrian's lips curled into a bitter smile. "We'll see."
He adjusted the belt of teeth across his chest. Checked his axes. Felt the blood bags sloshing against his side. His heart slowed.
Breathe in.
Focus.
No running.
No backing down.
This was the nest. The final one. Every step, every scar, every burn had led here.