We shouldn't be doing this.
That's the first thought I have as I stand at the edge of the tunnel. Not some deep philosophical musing. Not awe. Just pure, flat "nope."
Splitjaw is stretching like he's about to wrestle a cave. Embergleam's checking the tightness of her shoulder wrappings like she's going to burn the air itself. The Kid's already fifteen steps in, staring at the wall and humming like it's a song only he can hear.
Me? I'm the idiot following them into a space that the system called "null."
Which means either it's blank, or so important the system refuses to explain it.
[Subnode: Null Space – First Entry Triggered]
[Warning: Trial of Echo Initiated – Completion Required for Exit]
[Lock Engaged Upon Group Entry]
Splitjaw turns to look at me. "Did it just say we can't leave?"
"Yes."
"I don't like that."
"Neither do I," I mutter, and follow the Kid down into the dark.
The stone changes almost immediately.
No cracks. No moss. The floor is too smooth. Like it was cut on purpose, then forgotten. Our claws don't click. They hum. Every step sounds like it belongs to someone else.
The walls shift.
Not move. Shift.
We walk forward and the hallway stretches, narrows, widens again. No sound. No transition. Just sudden difference.
Splitjaw tries to mark the wall with his claw.
It closes around the scratch and flattens itself back to perfect.
He looks at me. "I don't like that either."
"Add it to the list."
Behind us, the path we entered from… is gone. Just a smooth wall.
The Kid points up.
Glyphs have started glowing on the ceiling. Soft white. They flicker as we pass.
System pings.
[Subnode of Shape – Echo Trial 1 of 3]
[Environmental Response Active – Symbolic Movement Registered]
[Party Sync Initiated]
I hate when the system pretends like this is normal.
We take a left that wasn't there before. There's no reason it should've been a left. We were walking in a straight line. But suddenly there's a corridor, and we're in it.
The air grows colder. Embergleam lights her palm and holds it out. Her flame is steady but doesn't reach the walls. The light folds inward. Like the dark is denser than it should be.
The Kid stops walking.
"They're here."
"Who's they?" I ask.
He points.
From the floor, shadows rise.
Not like monsters. Not like beasts. Like memories that forgot who they belonged to. Thin, long-limbed echoes of movement. Not kobold. Not human. Not anything that exists anymore.
Splitjaw draws his spear.
Embergleam steps forward.
The Kid draws on the floor with soot from his sleeve.
I'm still staring.
Because the shadows have no eyes.
System pings.
[Echo Manifestation – Wraith Shells]
[Behavior: Territory Defense]
[Weakness: Unstable Identity – Break Their Movement, Break Their Form]
The first one lunges.
Splitjaw meets it mid-step. There's a crack—metal against nothing. He curses, spins, drives the shaft through the echo's chest.
It does nothing.
Embergleam whips a lash of fire that scorches it in half. That does something.
More rise. Six. Eight. Ten.
The Kid draws a spiral, and slams his hand against the floor. The shadows slow.
I feel a shift.
The ground wants to help me.
That's not comforting.
The ground should not want anything.
The last time a place had opinions, we had to relocate our bone storage due to cave spiders with territorial grudges.
System pings.
[Tactical Geometry Active – Terrain Reorientation Available]
[Predictive Movement Enabled – Bonus: Echo Break Chance +15%]
I gesture to the right. Splitjaw moves without asking.
He blocks one. Embergleam torches two. The Kid hums louder.
The floor shifts under them—tilts just enough to make the echoes falter.
I sprint past and jab a stone from the wall into one. It explodes like mist.
We win in two minutes. Maybe less.
When it ends, we're breathing hard. No injuries. But we all look at each other the same way.
System pings again.
[Echo Trial 1/3 Complete]
[Party Sync: 78% – Adaptive Coordination Trait Emerging]
[Environment Recognizing Identity Pattern: Flame-Kin Thread]
The Kid stands.
"The walls are whispering," he says softly.
"About what?"
He points toward the darkness.
"They're whispering about a crown."
I don't like crowns.
Crowns mean thrones.
Thrones mean responsibility.
Responsibility means more system notifications.
I am one ping away from becoming a cave administrator, and I would rather eat moss.
---
We find a resting point. Or maybe it finds us.
One hallway bleeds into another, and suddenly we're in a square chamber that feels… still. Not peaceful, not threatening. Just still. The way caves get when even the echoes have run out of things to say.
The walls are clean. Polished. No carvings. No moss. Like something meant to live here never showed up.
We sit.
Splitjaw drops with a huff, rolling his shoulder like it insulted him.
Embergleam takes a post near the far end, flame-light flickering low from her palm. She hasn't said anything since the fight, but she hasn't stopped watching the Kid, either.
The Kid is drawing again.
Lines and curves and strange looping script, all in soot and dust. His eyes are too focused, tongue sticking out in concentration.
"What is that?" I ask, finally.
He shrugs. "Don't know. Feels right."
"Do you… understand it?"
"Nope," he says. "But my fingers do."
Okay. That's not terrifying at all.
Splitjaw scoffs. "Long as it doesn't explode, I don't care."
"It might explode," the Kid says brightly.
Splitjaw shifts slightly farther away.
I chew on dried root. It tastes like burnt regret and mushrooms, but it's warm. Embergleam passes me a little bundle of roasted beetle legs. I don't ask where she got them.
I take one. Crunch.
She gives the Kid the biggest piece. No words. Just hands it to him and nods once. He beams.
Splitjaw grumbles about favoritism and then tears a strip of jerky in half to give the Kid his share anyway.
It's quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… quiet.
The fire hums.
The system's silent.
I lean back against the wall and close my eyes.
It doesn't feel like an adventure.
It feels like rest.
Like the kind of moment people forget to write about between monster attacks and heroic speeches. Where nobody says anything important but somehow everything gets said anyway.
"Why are you here?" I ask, eventually.
Splitjaw grunts. "You gave me something to do. That counts for a lot."
I blink. "That's the worst reason I've ever heard."
"Didn't say it was a smart one."
The Kid pipes up, "I joined because you gave me chalk."
Of course.
Embergleam's voice comes last. Low, thoughtful.
"You gave us names before we earned them. Thought that was kinda dumb. Still do. But I guess it worked."
I stare at her.
Then I nod.
Then she nods.
And that's all either of us says.
The fire dims.
The Kid curls up beside my leg. Splitjaw's snoring already. Embergleam doesn't sleep—she sits with her back to the wall, flame pulsing slow, like a heartbeat.
System pings one last time.
[Party Affinity Increased – Emotional Threading Detected]
[Flame-Kin Bond Active – Minor Sync Bonus Granted]
[You are no longer considered a provisional unit]
That one gets me.
I stare at the system window until it fades.
I'm not provisional anymore.
Still don't know what I am.
But they're here.
And somehow, that's enough.
For now.