The stone underfoot was too smooth.
Not worn—flattened. Like something had pressed down hard, again and again, grinding imperfections into a polish that didn’t belong underground.
Cain kept his steps light, but every footfall echoed louder than it should have. He hated that. He hated a lot of things right now. Mostly the quiet.
The tunnel stretched ahead in a long curve, walls narrowing just enough to feel intentional. It wasn’t shaped like a mine or ruin. The walls didn’t feel natural, but they also weren’t carved by humans.
The air smelled dry—dust and old silk. It clung to the back of his throat like guilt.
Behind him, Lexi moved without a word. She hadn’t asked where they were going. She just followed, eyes sharp, fingers curled a little tighter around her chains every time the walls pinched closer.
He didn’t blame her. He didn’t like the walls either.
“‘There’s a door at the bottom,’ she said,” he muttered. “‘You’ll find someone who can break her contract.’”
She wouldn’t tell him what kind of monsters lived in this pseudo-dungeon.
Apparently it was all part of the hazing ritual.
Cain dragged a hand through his hair, more habit than anything. He didn’t like walking into places blind—not anymore. But he’d asked the question, and Lila had given her answer.
Now here he was. Underground. Surrounded by silence.
His boot nudged something soft.
He looked down.
A web. Stretched thin across the floor, nearly invisible. It was flat, symmetrical, laid out with purpose. He hadn’t seen it before stepping in, but now that he was looking…
There were more.
Over the walls. Across the ceiling. Threaded through the corners like veins.
His pulse jumped.
The air felt too thin.
He didn’t hear anything. No movement. No skittering.
But the hairs on his arms rose anyway.
Cain slid his hand to the grip of his gun, thumb brushing the safety.
“Fuck…” he cursed.
No one answered.
He took one more step.
The ceiling moved.
The legs came first.
Long. Jointed. Too many. They unfurled from the web like someone peeling apart fingers at a funeral—slow, deliberate, reverent. The body followed, smooth and bloated, its black carapace catching the light in warped, oily reflections.
Cain didn’t breathe.
The spider crawled. One leg at a time, it made its way along the ceiling—silent, effortless, like gravity was optional. Eight eyes gleamed faintly in the dark.
“FUCK NO!”
The spider stopped.
It heard him.
Then it moved.
Fast.
Cain threw himself backward on instinct, heart slamming into his ribs as the spider dropped—not where he was, but where he would’ve been if he hadn’t moved. Its legs scraped stone. A puff of dust kicked up where the impact landed.
Lexi’s chains rattled behind him, but she didn’t scream.
He hit the ground hard, palms scraping against the tunnel floor. He rolled, teeth clenched, every nerve in his body screaming get up, get up, get up, get up—
The spider turned with impossible grace, legs folding in to reset its posture.
It made no sound. No hissing. No shrieking.
Just that slow, dry scrape.
Cain drew his gun.
His fingers felt clumsy on the grip, slick with sweat. He didn’t aim—there wasn’t time. He just pointed and pulled the trigger.
The shot cracked like thunder in a sealed tomb.
The force slammed through his arm, jarring his shoulder. The recoil was sharper than he remembered—like the weapon was punishing him for using it. His wrist twisted under the kick, but the shot flew true.
One of the spider’s front legs snapped; the chitin shattered in a brittle explosion of black fluid. A chunk of carapace spiraled through the air, smacking wetly against the wall.
The spider reeled sideways, legs jerking to catch its balance. The broken limb dragged along the ground, useless, twitching spasmodically.
Cain tried to force himself to refocus. He brought the gun back up with both trembling hands this time, lining up the next shot.
He fired.
He missed.
The round sparked off a stone somewhere behind the creature. The muzzle flash illuminated eight gleaming eyes that locked onto him.
It lunged.
Cain tried to dive aside, but one jagged leg caught his shoulder mid-motion and slammed him sideways into the tunnel wall.
The impact knocked the wind from his lungs. His vision blurred. Pain bloomed down his right side.
He stumbled, knees buckling, barely catching himself on one hand. The gun sagged in his grip—but he didn’t let it go.
The spider was already turning, limbs scratching against stone, head lowered, mandibles flexing silently.
Then Lexi moved.
She stepped forward and let her chains drag across the stone.
The sound was faint—metal over rock—but the spider twitched, attention flicking toward her for a split second.
That was all Cain needed.
He brought the gun up again, teeth clenched, breath ragged.
He fired.
The round punched through the spider’s face—right between the cluster of eyes.
There was no screech. No blood-curdling cry. Just a twitch—an almost confused shudder that rippled through its limbs.
Then it collapsed.
Its legs curled in as it hit the floor, folding around its body like it was tucking itself in for sleep.
=You have defeated (1) Juvenile Giant Spider=
=You gain 0.03 skill points=
=Current skill points: 0.17=
Cain staggered upright, bracing a hand against the wall, panting.
Lexi watched him carefully, her chains resting still against her palms.
“You okay?” she asked, voice even.
He looked at the corpse and shuddered violently.
Then he laughed.
Short. Bitter. Cold.
“I fucking hate spiders.”
She didn’t respond. She just stared at the curled remains of the thing, head tilted slightly.
He noticed.
“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” he muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Most people don’t see hellspawn like these and think, ‘Wow, what a fascinating corpse.’”
“It didn’t make any sound,” she said. “Not when it moved. Or when it died.”
Cain blinked. He looked back at the body, shuddering again as it almost seemed to move.
But it didn’t.
It was still silent. Still twisted. Still… wrong.
“Let’s keep moving,” he said finally, voice low. “The faster we get through this, the sooner we can free you.”
“How do you think they do it?” she asked, ignoring his statement.
“…Do what?”
“Die silently. Why don’t they scream when it hurts?”
Cain paused.
“I don’t know.”
They didn’t speak after that.
Cain adjusted the grip on his gun and stepped past the body. The spider’s legs were still curled, tucked beneath it like it had died mid-cower. The eyes had gone dim. They looked less like glass now and more like vacant holes.
He didn’t look back again.
The tunnel beyond stretched in gentle, unnatural curves. The webbing grew denser—not tangled, but arranged. Anchors in the same place, threads pulled taut at regular intervals, forming soft, silent barriers.
A path.
They ducked through the lines one by one, the silk brushing Cain’s jacket with every pass.
Lexi’s eyes stayed fixed forward, dark and still.
Cain was starting to wonder how deep this place went when they found the first body.
Humanoid.
Webbed to the wall at shoulder height, head slumped, arms pinned by silk so tight it looked fused with skin. A rotting sword was still strapped to the figure’s hip, untouched.
Cain didn’t move right away. His breath caught in his throat.
Lexi stepped closer. She reached toward the silk but didn’t touch it. Her hands brushed the chains wrapped around the corpse’s wrists.
“So that’s how it ends,” she muttered, entranced.
Her voice was calm.
Cain stared at her.
Not at the body, or the chains.
Her.
The way she looked at it—like she wasn’t seeing a corpse, but a blueprint.
“Not for you,” he said quietly.
She paused. Her fingers curled away from the webbing, back to the cold iron shackles on her own wrists.
“Everybody dies someday,” he said. “But you? You’re going to die free.”
Lexi sighed. “We’ll see.”
She didn’t look at him as she stepped past the corpse and kept walking.
The tunnel bent once more—and then opened.
Light spilled out ahead of them. Clean, brass-framed lanterns were spaced in perfect intervals, each flame burning with the same low amber glow.
Cain slowed.
The webbing was gone. The stone underfoot had been covered in wooden slats, sanded smooth and freshly laid. They formed a narrow path across a wide, open space—like a bridge laid across a pit.
His Trap Detection activated, highlighting the entire bridge in a crimson hue.
=Level up! Trap Perception is now Rank 3/100=
-Increased chance of perceiving traps-
A plaque gleamed above the arched doorway at the far end of the path.
Prove Yourself — Step Lightly
He sighed. “What is this, a frat house?”
He stepped forward and began to cross.
Halfway across the path, Lexi stopped.
“Above,” she said.
Cain didn’t hesitate. He dropped to one knee, gun already coming up. A shape dropped.
Not one. Three.
They landed behind.
Cain twisted—one spider slammed into the wood where he’d been standing a heartbeat earlier. Its legs scraped the planks, sharp as sickles. Another clambered along the ceiling, shifting toward Lexi.
The third… didn’t move.
“They’re flanking,” he muttered.
Lexi stepped back, chains loose in her hands, eyes narrowed. “They’re herding.”
Cain fired.
The first spider’s thorax exploded in black gore.
=You have defeated (1) Juvenile Giant Spider=
=You gain 0.03 skill points=
=Current skill points: 0.20=
The one on the ceiling dropped low, then launched at Lexi.
She ducked in, her chains whipping up in an arc. She slammed the metal links into the spider’s legs mid-lunge. The creature spiraled, struck the floor, and skittered into the wall, legs folding awkwardly.
It didn’t die.
But it stopped moving.
Cain grinned despite himself. “Nice.”
He fired a shot into the head of the second spider.
=You have defeated (1) Juvenile Giant Spider=
=You gain 0.03 skill points=
=Current skill points: 0.23=
They turned toward the third spider.
It still hadn’t moved.
Cain raised his gun and fired.
The shot stopped inches short of its face, suspended in midair.
The air rippled. A shimmering heat haze spread from the spider’s body.
The spider stepped back into the wall and vanished.
Cain swore under his breath.
“Fuck frat house hazing rituals…”
They didn’t speak for a while after the spider vanished.
The heat shimmer where the bullet stopped was gone, but the cold it left behind wasn’t.
Cain stepped past the spot where it had stood, fingers tense on the grip of his gun. The webbing was thinner here, like the spiders didn’t nest this close to the manmade path.
They crossed into a wider chamber. The light from the lanterns didn’t follow them. Here, the darkness was deeper, soaked into the stone like mold.
Cain paused. His boots scuffed against the floor—stone again, not wood. Cracked, chipped in some places, like someone had tried to claw their way back out.
The chamber had a raised edge along the wall—a half-formed bench or dais. Lexi moved past him and sat down. The bench was wide enough for her to perch on with her knees pulled to her chest. She set her chains in her lap like a child holding a favorite toy.
Cain didn’t like how natural it looked.
He sighed and sat on the floor across from her, gun still in hand, elbows on his knees.
A minute passed.
Then another.
“That third one…” Lexi began, voice low.
Cain looked up. “The spider that vanished?”
She nodded. “It didn’t want to kill us. I didn’t feel any bloodlust.”
He ran a hand down his face. “No, I’m sure it just wanted to see what we’d do.”
Cain ejected the spent rounds from his gun. The soft clinks echoed loudly against the stone. He reloaded with fingers practiced by years of repetition.
“This place,” he muttered. “It’s not just a dungeon. It’s a test.”
He rose to his feet, dusted his cloak off, and turned toward the far end of the room.
There, half-covered by debris, just beyond the reach of the dark, was a smear of blood. Faint and dragged, like someone had crawled, maybe even been pulled. It led toward a narrow side tunnel, its mouth veiled with a curtain of half-torn silk.
He stepped closer. The blood trail wasn’t fresh. But it wasn’t ancient either.
Someone had gone this way.
“Trail picks up again,” he said.
Lexi didn’t answer.
He glanced back.
She was staring at her wrists. At the metal rings that defined her. Her fingers hovered just above the cuffs, not touching—like she was afraid of waking something if she did.
“Hey.”
She blinked and looked up at him.
“That corpse back there,” he said, nodding behind them. “That’s not your ending.”
She lowered her hands into her lap.
“I’m not scared of dying.”
“I know,” he replied. “You’re scared it won’t mean anything.”
That made her flinch.
He waited a beat longer, then turned back to the tunnel.
“Come on. We should be getting close.”
She stood without a word and followed.
The curtain of silk parted around them like it had been waiting.
They stepped into the dark.
Behind them, the chamber stayed quiet.
Still.
Watching.
Project Knightfall 