Chapter 108: Inside the Tower Part 4
The corridor ahead narrowed into a throat-like tunnel, slick with the same pulsing organic tissue that lined the walls. Every step was squelch and suction, as if the tower itself resisted their passage. The air grew hotter, more humid, and every breath tasted like old blood and rot.
"Feels like we’re walking into something’s stomach," Korrik muttered, sword at the ready, his armor still smeared with black ichor from the last fight.
Inigo walked at point, M4 Carbine raised, scanning ahead. The corridor twisted left, then right, then dropped slightly into a widening chamber. His boots stuck slightly with each step, as if the floor wanted to drag him down and keep him there. Lyra and Arienne followed silently, the latter casting faint barrier pulses as they moved.
As they entered the new chamber, it became clear this wasn’t just another passage—it was a lair.
The room opened up into a hollow dome with rib-like structures arching overhead, meeting at a central fleshy knot that dripped viscous fluid. Platforms made of bone and metal jutted from the walls, while dozens of hanging cocoons swung slowly from the ceiling, each faintly glowing from within. The air buzzed with power—dark, throbbing magic that coiled around them like invisible smoke.
"We’re not alone," Lyra whispered, eyes on the ceiling.
She was right.
One of the cocoons ruptured with a sickening wet tear, and something dropped to the ground with a thud.
It stood on four reverse-jointed legs, its elongated arms tipped with scythe-like blades that clacked against the floor. Its head was like a horned skull, with rows of tiny violet eyes along the jawline. Muscles pulsed visibly under exposed skin. Another dropped. Then another. Soon, half a dozen of them surrounded the adventurers, circling slowly.
"They’re not like the others," Arienne said, stepping back. "No rot. No decay. These things are... fresh."
"They were bred for this," Inigo said grimly. He flicked his rifle to full auto. "Weapons free."