"So now it's time to taste the guilt."
CW: Multiple panic attacks
Layla - Chance
Today 8:16 PM
Layla: Good morning~! ❤
Layla: Do you like that little heart? I learned that myself!
Layla: I think it's cute ❤
Chance: gm
Layla: Gm...?
Layla: Oh, good morning!
Layla: Have any sweet dreams~?
Chance: cant remember
Layla: Aw, that's a shame.
Chance: still dont know you
Layla: Oh? But I could've sworn we've met~
Layla: Well, maybe we can meet face-to-face later.
Layla: Have a good day, my love! ❤
Chance: ok
They split the leftovers of last night's dinner for breakfast. They didn't have tinfoil or a refrigerator, and it was left out overnight to grow cold and stale. The Tiktik carcass had crystallized over the surface, the meat felt dry, and the Some-shrooms felt slimy, but it was filling enough. Chance managed to heat it up a little bit, at least enough to be edible, but he didn't trust himself to make a better meal while Jeremy was still reeling.
The moth boy was sitting at the table, picking at his food, a distant look in his eyes that Chance decided he hated. Jeremy didn't deserve any of the bullshit that Chance was involved with. That empty gaze didn't belong on his face.
"Hey, uh…" He opened his mouth without thinking, and a distracted Jeremy blinked, snapping up to meet his gaze. Chance paused before continuing, "I'm, uh, worried about Deepnest."
Jeremy's antennae drooped as he frowned. "Oh… right. We're going there next, aren't we?"
"Well, that's the thing," Chance rubbed the back of his head, "I was wondering if, uh, you'd prefer to stay behind for this one."
Now his antennae shot up. "W-What? Y-You shouldn't go in there alone!"
"I mean, I'll still have Tusk," Chance said. The small knight was standing on the chair next to them, and he reached out to pat them on the head between their horns. "But I'm worried about you, Jay. Deepnest seems nothing like any of the other places we've been, and I don't want you to feel like you have to come along."
Jeremy opened his mouth to protest, but he sighed, looking down into his food as he poked at it some more. "Yeah… I guess you're right. I could barely handle myself in the City, and… I'm a lot weaker than you are, so…"
Chance felt something in his chest scrunch up. "Hey, I didn't mean it like that. It's just…" He pursed his lips, "I need to go in there. I don't have a choice, but you do. I don't want you to be dragged into that hellhole just because I'm going down there."
"Well…" Jeremy sighed through his nose, forcing a smile. "Alright. I-I'll watch the house for you, but promise to come back safely, okay?"
Chance smiled. "Once I'm out, I'll find a Stag Station and come right back up here, I promise."
As Chance approached the Village, he froze when the two Mantis guards straightened up in his presence, and he half expected them to arrest him for some crime. He almost would have preferred that to them bowing, of all things.
"U-Uh…" He looked back and forth between the two Mantises, feeling dumb. Was this a custom of theirs? Mimicking their movements, he tried to bow as politely as he could manage, leaning down and holding an arm over his chest. Next to him, he could see Tusk doing the same.
But… the Mantises hadn't stopped bowing. How long did they have to hold this pose? Did he have to do something first? No, if he moved now, that might be rude. He didn't know any real customs here, but acting out of turn seemed far more likely to be inappropriate than standing quietly and waiting for something to happen. He'd gone through so much to earn the Tribe's respect, he wasn't about to botch it all now
But he also couldn't just stand here all day! He had to get through Deepnest, he had to figure out what the hell the 'Grave in Ash' was, he was dying, for God's sake! Maybe if he rose up very, very slowly…
"Trickster."
Chance snapped upright to attention at Lightfoot's voice, before panicking as the two Mantis guards stood up as well. Were they upset with him now? Did he do something stupid?
But as Lightfoot approached, neither of the guards moved, nor did their demeanor change. Lightfoot himself seemed confused, though. "What are you doing?"
"I-I was, uh, bowing. To the… guards." He felt like he was supposed to know better than this.
Lightfoot sighed. "You are the one who bested the Lords in combat. You bowing back is… respectable, but unnecessary."
"Oh." Chance let his shoulders relax, glancing nervously between the two guards with pursed lips. Silently, he followed Lightfoot into the Village proper, shuffling past the guards who looked at him funny as his face burned.
"Tr- Er, Chance," Lightfoot corrected himself, speaking up after a few moments of silent walking. "I trust you remember that I had a request to ask of you the other day?"
Lightfoot let go, stepping back. "There is… something I would like to ask of you, when you return. I did not offer that Geo to bribe or coerce you; this would be a separate favor."
Chance blinked. He did remember that, but he had no idea what Lightfoot could possibly want from him. The Mantis knew that Chance was gonna hurry along to find a cure for his Infection and couldn't afford to make pit-stops on a whim, so what could he do for him? "Y-Yeah? How can I help?"
"I will be blunt. I wish to join you on your quest to end the Infection."
Chance's jaw parted, stepping away from Lightfoot in surprise. "Y-You wanna join me?!" This was basically a suicide mission, do-or-die. He was delving into Deepnest, one of the worst hells he had seen in Hallownest so far, chasing after even the slightest possibility of survival.
And since when was he 'ending the Infection'?! It sounded selfish, sure, but right now he was trying to cure himself, not completely wipe the disease from existence! That was impossible, right? Don't ancient diseases from hundreds of years ago still linger in modern times? He wasn't a virologist, but a disease going extinct seemed damn near impossible.
Lightfoot looked down. "Mother… her disease grows worse by the day. Surely, you've seen it yourself; although she may seem physically spry for her age, her mind is eroding under the Infection."
Chance grimaced, looking at his feet as they walked. It felt rude to admit, but Rio had been acting funny for a while now. He wondered how much of her personality was her true self, and how much of it was influenced by the Infection. Hell, how much of himself was his 'true self' at this point? He had no base to compare from; there was no way to gauge how far gone he already was. He felt fine, but maybe he was already going insane.
Like how Rio was slowly going insane.
"To see her wither away… is a hell I can endure no longer. I was a coward for so long, and all I could do was try to confine her to a bed. What kind of son am I to deprive my mother of what life she has left? Every night, when she falls asleep, I feel sick to my stomach, knowing the dream's nectar will make every day worse than the one before."
Lightfoot turned to Chance. "I can't do this anymore, Chance. I'm still skeptical that curing the Infection is even possible, but if there's even the faintest hope of saving my mother's life, then I cannot be a coward any longer."
Chance stared dumbly back at Lightfoot, his mind spinning. It sent shivers across his skin, knowing that his desperate bid for survival wasn't just about him anymore; others were depending on him.
Lightfoot gave a low, bitter laugh. "Chance… What a funny name you have, Trickster. You are the only chance I have to save my mother's life… Quite the coincidence."
His smile fell, and he looked away. "No… perhaps it is fate."
The Throne Room was quiet. Chance and Tusk had both stopped to bow to a few Mantises along the way, much to Lightfoot's chagrin. It was almost startling, how easily he was allowed to waltz into the heart of the Village after how badly the Tribe had wanted his blood just the other day.
"We're here."
The only Lord present in the Throne Room was Rosanna, not sitting on her throne but leaning her back on its towering base. The Lord's sheer height was something Chance might never be able to get over; Rosanna had to be, oh God, at least twice his entire height. Trying to match her gaze only gave him vertigo.
The Lord pushed herself off of her throne, and wordlessly waved her hand towards the giant stone door next to the thrones. It quaked, rumbled, and began to rise, making way for the black web-infested cavern that seemed to stretch on endlessly into the darkness. Chance felt like he was staring through the very gates of Hell itself.
This was Deepnest. This was his next hurdle.
He almost would've preferred going back through the Sanctum again.
"Deepnest is widely uncharted. There's no telling where you are going or what you will encounter. We cannot even be certain if you will be able to find an exit once you enter. Are you sure you wish to proceed, Trickster?"
Chance didn't even look back at Rosanna as he responded. "We'll find an exit."
The Mantis Lord was silent for a moment. Chance couldn't see her expression. "And Lightfoot, you insist on following him?"
"I do."
"...Very well." She turned away from them. "Deepnest is wild and hostile land. For our Tribe's security, we cannot hold this door open for long. Once you enter, we will need to close it behind you, and I doubt we will be able to hear you from the other side. You'll be locked in until you find your own exit - if you find one, that is."
Chance's fists clenched and unclenched as he shuddered, trying to keep his breathing steady. "We'll find one," he repeated.
"...I see I won't be changing your minds." Rosanna sighed. "If there are no other matters you have to settle in this life, then I ask that you proceed quickly, so that I may close the door behind you."
Chance gulped, and with shaking hands, pulled out the Lumafly Lantern he had bought from Sly in Dirtmouth. The eighteen hundred Geo was a steep price, but right now, he'd pay twice that for any security he could get.
With a nod to Tusk and Lightfoot, the trio embarked into the bowels of Deepnest.
And as soon as the lantern's light was subsumed by the shadows, Rosanna waved her hand, and the heavy stone door slammed down, sealing them in the spider's labyrinth.
…
…
"Don't lie to me, Rosa. You're impressed by him."
"Pfft, a hopeless suicide mission is hardly impressive, Cici. We'll open this gate again in a few days and find his corpse leaning up against it, I'll bet."
"And if he survives?"
"In that scenario, 'Impressed' might still be a strong word for how I would feel. More of a strange miracle than any actual testament to skill. He is still Infected, after all."
"And if he does the impossible and finds a cure?"
"...Well. Perhaps then, I will be impressed."
The slam of the heavy stone gate made them all jump. It echoed through the pitch-black tunnel, reverberating throughout their bones. Chance's muscles felt so tight, he thought he was going to get cramps all over his body from the stress alone. Only a small area around him, Lightfoot, and Tusk were still visible, illuminated by the light of the Lumafly Lantern. God, what he wouldn't give for a proper flashlight; even with the lantern, he could barely see a foot in front of his face.
He forced a nervous chuckle, more to reassure himself than anything. "L-Let's keep going. Maybe it won't be so bad," he thought out loud. Lightfoot looked at him funny, and Chance had to turn away to hide the grimace on his face.
But now he was staring deeper into the dark cavern. Realizing he had to actually back up his words, he gulped and took a few tentative steps forward.
Eventually, he settled into a rhythm. Five steps forward, breathe in, Five steps forward, breathe out. It… wasn't that bad! There were a few glowing weeds here and there that didn't light up the room but at least made the path easier to see. He hadn't even seen any hostile-looking bugs yet.
If he thought hard enough, he could almost pretend he was back in the Crossroads, venturing into Hallownest's depths for the first time…
"...Chance, do you know what we are looking for-"
Just as Lightfoot tried speaking to break the awkward silence, something shuffled past them in the dark. Chance spun around, trying to light up whatever animal was stalking them. Tusk drew their nail, stepping threateningly in the direction of the noise.
Lightfoot's hands transformed back into long, serrated blades, and he leapt at the creature like a pouncing lion. The Lantern didn't go far enough to illuminate the quarrel, so Chance and Tusk could only stare in the dark as they heard Lightfoot subdue their enemy.
"O-Ow! W-W-Wait, sir, I- Ahh!"
Chance recognized that voice. He ran over with the lantern, peeking over a round rock to see Lightfoot pinning the one stalking them to the floor, his blade just inches from his neck. Chance pulled the lantern up to see…
"C… Cornifer?!"
It had taken a minute to convince Lightfoot that no, the cartographer quaking in terror under him was not a beast of the Deep, nor a shapeshifting demon. After that, they got up and sat around the lantern to figure out how the hell Cornifer got here.
"I-I fell through an opening higher up by accident while mapping out a different area. I-I-I've tried to map this place as best as I could, b-but…" He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. "This p-place gives me the creeps. Vicious little creatures burst out all o-over the place and the passages are a dark, twisting maze. I-I can sell you what I have so far, b-but it isn't much."
Chance nodded. He wasn't sure how brave of a person Cornifer was - you probably need a fair bit of guts to map out this hellhole of a Kingdom - but his current terrified shaking didn't say anything good about what they would encounter further on. "That's alright. We'll take all the help we can get."
He only asked for 38 Geo, which Lightfoot tried to argue against but Chance insisted on paying. The map had almost nothing, only a winding upward path, probably how Cornifer ended up here from whatever area was above them. But there was one thing he wanted to find in particular before Tusk yoinked away the map.
"Cornifer, do you know if Deepnest's Tram Station is near where you fell in?"
Lightfoot gave him a weird look. Cornifer blinked, his fear momentarily forgotten in place of confusion. "A-... A Tram? N-No, I believe not. There may have been a Stag Station nearby, but certainly no Tram."
Damn. Chance grunted, pursing his lips as he glared back down at the map. It was only a single pathway, but there were several openings marked that presumably led deeper into this hellhole. Deepnest was a sprawling cavern; where the hell was he supposed to be looking for this Tram at?
Lightfoot leaned closer, glaring at him. "Chance… how do you know Deepnest has a Tram system?"
Chance blinked. "Oh, uh… A friend told me about it, but she didn't say where exactly. It's what we're looking for, actually."
Lightfoot seemed to consider this, closing his eyes as he crossed his arms in thought. "So even Deepnest is but another stepping stone… I'm not sure what you expect to find beyond this place, but I understand." He huffed, "I suppose I can trust you on this much."
Deciding to take that as banter, Chance gave a nervous laugh. On the inside, though, he was starting to freak out. Cornifer's map could only tell them where the tram wasn't, so they'd have to be exploring uncharted territory. And they didn't even have a clue where to look.
Assuming Hornet wasn't lying about there being a Tram, could they even find it before they died in this pit?
...
"Oh, uh, Cornifer, are you gonna need any help getting out of here? You can follow us, if you'd like."
"Y-You intend to go deeper, do you not? It's going to take a whole lot of effort to climb out of this dark pit. I think I-I'll hide here a little longer."
"If… If you insist…"
Some people are afraid of the dark. Some say that you're not afraid of the dark, you're afraid of what's in it. In Deepnest, both the darkness itself and the horrors within surround you. It was a new kind of hell, a haunted wasteland in the already apocalyptic Hallownest.
Chance felt like he was a kid. He felt like a kid in a house where everyone else had gone to bed for the night, and he was the last one downstairs. He felt terrified, like he had just turned the lights off and was trying to get upstairs to his bed as fast as he could. He wasn't sure exactly what he was running from, but he was absolutely certain that the dark living room was no longer a safe place.
Except with Deepnest, he couldn't just sprint up the stairs to safety. There were no warm blankets for him to dive under, no nightlights to comfort him into a deep sleep. The whole house had gone dark, and there was nobody there. Just him, and the house.
It really did feel like he was walking through a child's nightmare. Impossibly thick spiderwebs covered almost every surface, and the darkness was too dense for his pale Lumafly Lantern to cut through. The endless skittering of bugs in the walls around them was ceaseless; even abandoned to the wild, Deepnest was alive and breathing.
The worst part of all was that it wasn't just suspense. They must have finally walked into Deepnest proper, because they couldn't even go a full two minutes without something lurching out of the shadows and attacking them.
A round spider with six glowing orange eyes climbed down from the walls towards them, and with the Lantern only going such a small distance, they didn't see the thing until it was right on top of them. Chance screamed, reaching for his gun, only for Lightfoot to shoot forward and slice the thing in two without even flinching.
Lightfoot turned to look at Chance. "Are you alri-"
In a fit of nervous frustration, Chance jolted, grabbing his lantern and throwing it to the ground. He wanted to scream through gritted teeth. He hated this. He hated this feeling of helplessness.
The lantern didn't break thanks to the webbing on the floor, but bounced on the ground and rolled to a stop near Tusk, who calmly picked it up. Chance ripped his phone out of his pocket, muscles tense, and he fiddled with the settings until a blinding beam of light shot out of the front and cut through the darkness.
"There," Chance's voice was haggard. "N-Now we can fuckin' see. Let's go."
He stormed off into the darkness. Lightfoot and Tusk shared a look of concern; Chance might've looked determined, but neither of them missed the way his hands kept shaking, or how he jumped every time they heard something move close to them.
They kept walking, trying to keep close to their new light source. The endless sound of skittering bugs around them was deafening.
They found themselves climbing an upward slope in the tunnels, dancing along the edges of Cornifer's map but not wanting to waste time in areas they knew not to look in. Chance was so wound up at this point that every movement in his limbs felt like pulling teeth.
He climbed up another small ledge with his Claws, a rock slipping under his grip and tumbling to the floor. The noise echoed up into the larger cavern above them, and someone nearby heard it.
"Hm? Is someone there? Do you need help?"
Lightfoot glared upwards, waiting for someone to jump out and attack them again/ "Who goes there?! Show yourself!"
On the ledge not far above, a figure appeared, wearing a burlap hood and wielding a massive club. "Oh! I know you! Let me help you up, friend!"
She hopped down, ignoring the hissing Lightfoot, and grabbed at Chance's jacket, pulling him up. He didn't resist as he was carried up into the larger cavern just above them, swinging limply in Cloth's arms before she plopped him down on a metal bench.
(Cloth - He thought he would've forgotten her name by now. It was such a brief meeting and so much has happened since then, but something in his Soul didn't let him forget names anymore, it seemed. Handy.)
Chance looked thoroughly frazzled; any progress he had made in looking healthier after visiting the hot springs yesterday had been completely undone. His hair was frayed and dirty, and his skin was covered in scratches, both from spider bites and getting scrapped on rocks. His clothes were torn and tattered in several places, and he didn't have the energy to fix them with magic. His breathing was shaky, his hands couldn't keep still, and his orange eyes were wide and bloodshot, darting all over the place.
Lightfoot frowned, being able to see him now in the more acceptable lighting of this larger room. From a strictly physical standpoint, Deepnest wasn't as much of a challenge as he expected, and so far they've managed to get away with light bruises and scratches.
But Chance's state highlighted the fact that there was a psychological aspect to Deepnest as well. It wasn't a gauntlet, it was a house of horrors. Humans, like most bugs, simply weren't made for this darkness, this primal fear.
This place just… rejected them.
At the very least, Chance finally seemed to be calming down, realizing that he was in a safe place, at least for now. His hands snaked up his arms, clutching himself tight as he tried to steady his breathing. Tusk hopped up into his lap, and Chance wrapped his arms around them and held the little knight close, like a teddy bear.
He looked around at their surroundings; they were sitting on some kind of metal platform. This kind of structure didn't seem to exist normally in Deepnest. The curled-up corpses of a few bugs were on the ground around them, and there were old shelves and tables around the place. On the far end of the cavern was a giant opening into a longer tunnel, with wooden support beams around it.
"W-What… Where are we?" Chance asked, still catching his breath. It almost looked like some kind of construction area. Had the old kingdom tried to expand into this area before?
Cloth plopped down on the ground next to them, sighing. "I'm not sure. Some old Tram site, I'd wager, though it's been long abandoned."
"A Tram site?" Lightfoot stood next to the bench; there was more than enough room for him to sit down, but he chose not to. "Isn't this what you were looking for, Chance?"
"I-I…" Chance furrowed his brow, closing his eyes as he tried to remember Hornet's words. "I'm not sure. I mean… it sounded like I should be looking for a functional Tram, if… if that's here."
Cloth hummed. She held her club in her lap, propping her arms upon it as she rested her head in her hands. "A functional Deepnest Tram…? Well, I recall there being a Tram down in the Ancient Basin that seemed like it might stretch into Deepnest. Maybe that's what you're looking for?"
He blinked. "Ancient Basin?" Hornet hadn't mentioned anything like that. But then again…
Cloth sat up. "A dusty old pit at the very bottom of Hallownest. It's supposedly some important historical site, but it seems like nothing but a bunch of rock to me…"
"Deepnest is one end of the tramway, and the Ashen Edge is the other end. Do not waste your time stopping in-between."
Chance perked up with a tight smile.
"Say, Cloth, what else can you tell me about these Trams? Do you think I could use one?"
The cicada warrior hummed, crossing her arms as she leaned her back up against the bench. "The Tram down below seemed ancient, but I don't recall it looking broken by any means. If you had a Pass with you, then you might be able to get it active."
"A Pass?" Damn, this might be more complicated than he expected.
"Aye. You need some kind of Tram Pass to even activate things. Won't let you get on without one. It must've been ages since these things were last in use, but maybe you can find a Pass somewhere lying around?"
Chance leaned back, his voice flat. "You mean take one off of a corpse."
Cloth smiled, snapping her fingers with enthusiasm. "Yep! You've gotten better at this since I last saw you!"
Lightfoot walked a few paces away from them. "Well, we are in an abandoned Tramway right now, are we not? What better place to begin searching for one of these Passes than here?" The Mantis was right, this was a convenient spot to look. Chance didn't feel like standing up in a hundred years, but he was glad that he found out he needed a Pass here, of all places.
Chance hovered his hand over himself, using his last bits of Soul to heal up whatever he could, which wasn't much. At least he could actually see around here, so this was much better than going back down into that hellhole.
He, Lightfoot, Tusk, and Cloth got to work searching for any Tram Passes. Lightfoot was rummaging through the corpses' belongings, and so far, only found some random trinkets and loose Geo, which he let Chance pocket. Cloth was pushing aside and breaking rocks to see if a Pass fell behind one. Tusk was jumping around impatiently around the bench.
As Chance was searching through the shelves, a thought struck him. "Hey, how come it's easier to see in here than in the rest of Deepnest? It's all just in a cave, right?" It should've been equally pitch-black throughout all of Hallownest, and yet, they hadn't even needed a light source before now.
Lightfoot stood up, confused. "Are you asking why the rest of Hallownest is relatively well-lit, despite being underground?"
"Uh… Yeah."
Lightfoot barked a bitter laugh. "You have the Pale Wyrm to thank for that." He went back to searching the bodies, as if that alone somehow answered all of Chance's questions.
Cloth sat up, excitement in her voice. "Ooh, I know this story! It's an old legend for how Hallownest came to be!"
Chance couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. He supposed that in a dead kingdom, every little question had its answer hidden in some kind of ancient legend or whatever. Clear and direct answers were for losers. "Legend?"
"My mum always told me this legend when I was just a grub, so I know it by heart. You oughta sit down for this one, it's one of my favorites!"
…
Long ago, this land was only a dream.
A heavy mountain, home to savages and beasts. Mindless slaves to their desires.
Until a blinding Pale Light bore through our mountain, creating tunnels that would turn into our homes.
The Light of the Wyrm echoed across the ground He tread, imbuing the very stone with His eternal brilliance.
That Light would grant us lesser beasts a self, a mind. Our base selves evolved into something greater, so long as we devoted ourselves to His Pale Light.
Our Souls grew, our Minds swelled. We created. We abandoned the peaks of our savage mountain, of our older gods, to live deeper below in the Wyrm's tunnels.
We created a society. We created a World.
And to live in our World, Wyrm became King, shedding His greater form in favor of a new one, which he made in His people's image.
Our King gave a world to bug and beast as we had never dreamed.
...
"...And… that's 'Wyrm' with… with a 'y', right? As in, a dragon."
Cloth tilted her head in confusion. "A 'dragon'? Is that an outsider expression? ...Well, the point is, this guy was giant, and he dug all through this rock to create the tunnels we're in now!"
"And as he did it," Lightfoot continued for her, "He imbued these tunnels with some kind of magic that keeps them illuminated. Supposedly, that magic granted us our minds, too."
Chance paused to consider this. Every society has its creation story, I suppose… Though, a lot of things about Cloth's story stuck out as odd to him. He didn't think anything meaningful would come of nitpicking at an old children's story, but he was the idiot here. He may as well ask questions.
"So… he 'shed his form'? What does that mean?"
"It's as your friend here says," Lightfoot said. He stood up from the last corpse, looking frustrated at not having found anything. "He was giant. Apparently, he chose to reduce his physical form for something more… bug-sized, so he could better interact with his subjects."
"Nobody knows what happened to his old form," Cloth said. "In fact, nobody's even sure what happened to him!"
Chance pursed his lips. "...Is that so." So Hallownest was without a King… Did it collapse because of his absence, or did he vanish because the Kingdom was failing? Another mystery to throw into the pile, he guessed. He had more important things to do than speculate about the fate of Hallownest's late god-king.
With a groan, he rose to his feet. He was still sore and felt like shit, but at least he managed to get a short break by listening to Cloth's story. "Well, to change the subject, I don't think that Tram Pass is here. Hey Tusk, anywhere else we should-"
A heavy silence had blanketed over them. The three of them.
"...look…?"
Deeper in the Tram tunnel, far in the distance, Chance could faintly hear the sound of a blade hitting stone, and the squelching of a dying beast. He, Lightfoot, and Cloth all perked up at the sound, staring in the direction of the massive tunnel.
"...Shit." Chance took off running, and Lightfoot and Cloth wordlessly followed him.
Chance tucked and rolled into a small stone brick fort in the middle of the tunnel they had run into. Lightfoot and Cloth were still outside, currently fighting the strange, flying worm-things with too many teeth. Having managed to land a blow or two himself, Chance used his Soul to heal a few more of the cuts along his body, listening for the hissing and gnashing of teeth and blades just outside of his hidey-hole.
He turned around, pulling out his revolver and taking a quick potshot at one of the flying bugs that made Lightfoot and Cloth jump. He managed to hit his target on the wing, causing it to fall to the ground like a rock, and meet its end under Cloth's club.
He scanned around, spotting Tusk in a corner, nail in hand. His shot probably gave away his position and drew the attention of those things, so he scrambled over next to the small knight before something tried to charge at him.
"You alright?", he asked, breathless. Tusk nodded. "Y-You can't just run off like that, you scared us!"
Tusk looked back at him for a moment, expressionless, before turning back to the gap they were looking out of. Chance poked his head out from around the corner to look further down the tunnel; at the far end, where the cavern hit a wall, an old and broken-down tram car was collapsed against the tram wall.
…! "Wait, a Tram car… You don't think…?"
Tusk nodded. Of course! The only way inside of a Tram is with a Tram Pass, so the best place to look for one would be inside of a Tram. It was old, and probably never saw any use, but it was as good a place as any to search.
"Tusk, can you cover me if I run out to grab that thing?"
Tusk jumped up, nail in hand as they nodded. Chance nodded back, before he leapt out of the hole and sprinted down the cavern.
The flying worm things came down on him quickly, but Chance managed to shoot one out of the air before he had to keep running. Tusk kept close to him, jumping up and slashing at any creature that dared to get close.
Quickly sheathing his gun, Chance used the Claws to climb and hurdle over a large rock, hitting the ground running without losing any speed. Tusk jumped up onto his head, using him as a trampoline to reach a higher-up flying worm and bisecting it in mid-air.
Chance cheered at the performance, before he came up on the Tram. Deciding against climbing through the broken glass windows, he jumped onto the wall and clambered up to the top. He could see a big hole in the roof to the inside, so he walked closer-
A bug came flying at him from behind. Chance only spotted it just in time to grab at his gun before it knocked him over, and he had to grab into it with his Claws to keep it from gnawing at his face.
It had rows upon rows of circular teeth, gnashing and drooling all over him, inches from his face. It smelled of death. It looked like a spiral of a mouth, like this sorry creature only existed to bite people's faces off.
Chance gritted his teeth, pressing the butt of his gun against the rim of its mouth and angling it inside. He fired, ripping off a chunk of flesh from the creature, before he threw it off of him. Below, Tusk jumped on top of it and plunged their nail into it, killing the thing instantly.
Chance, still reeling, smiled at Tusk and gave them a thumbs-up. Tusk paused, looking at their own hand in confusion for a moment, before they tried to send a thumbs-up back his way. Chance laughed; they made a good team.
Rolling to his feet and stopping to "heal" his bullets to reload, Chance leapt down into the tram, careful not to cut himself on the torn metal or broken glass. It was suddenly a lot quieter; no more flying things hunting them. Lightfoot and Cloth would probably be here soon, if they were done fighting.
The place was surprisingly well-kept on the inside; the windows were shattered and the artistic metalwork on the outside was ripped up, but those bugs must've never gotten inside. There weren't any corpses that he could see, but the lamps on the ceiling were cracked open, and the Lumaflies inside must've fled a long time ago, save for a single one. It shined a faint glow at the very end of the tram, a single dying lightbulb. Beckoning Chance to come closer.
He inched closer; it was silent, but dark, and he didn't trust those shadows. He couldn't see anything resembling a Tram Pass anywhere, not that he knew what they looked like. He scanned around with his phone's flashlight in the heavy darkness, but couldn't find anything.
Without warning, the train lurched under him, and he stumbled. It impossibly pulled backward, beyond where the wall should have been. The windows had gone pitch-black, and Chance could hear the faint whooshing of wind from beyond them.
The tunnel they were traveling inside opened up, and the windows were flooded with a golden light that blinded him, and-
After letting his eyes adjust, it was like he had stepped back in time. The ancient and decrepit tram looked like it was made yesterday, the absolute lap of luxury. The paint was fresh and clean, the metal was well-polished, and the cushioned seats were well-padded. It stretched out twice, three times longer than it had before, golden sunlight filtering through the large windows, which opened into what looked like an endless sea on all sides. Were there even trains that went over the open ocean like this?
The screeching of metal was gone; only the near-silent rhythm of the well-oiled wheels turning under them. A soft piano song was playing, compressed through the low-quality speakers into white noise. Chance felt out of place with his dirty and tattered clothing, his own appearance unchanged from before… before something. Did something change?
Sitting in the sunlight, a woman in a simple lace dress was smiling at him. She wore a pleasant, soft smile, surrounded by her silky hair flowing over her shoulders. She seemed relaxed, enjoying the simple scenery.
Chance eyed her, nervous. He knew where this was going as he begrudgingly walked over to sit across from her, in the shade. They were both silent for a long moment, Chance glaring at the woman, who barely regarded him with a smile.
"...It's not a ship this time," the woman finally said.
He huffed. "Still over water."
The woman, the Radiance, gave a gentle, motherly chuckle. "I figured we should be alone this time. Nobody else to distract us. Just you and I."
Chance slouched in his seat, still glaring. "Didn't wanna start another shouting match in front of everyone, huh?" The Radiance's smile faltered, but she was still as relaxed as ever. No guests to entertain, no appearances to keep up. Nobody to serve. Divinity like her didn't have anything to stress over.
He stared at her for a minute, the both of them still silent. When she said nothing, he sat up and continued. "...I still don't know what you want from me."
"You," The Radiance said without missing a beat. Chance felt his gut churn at her casual response. "Though, I'll admit I embarrassed myself when we first met. I must have come on rather strong. For that, I apologize."
On top of him- Couldn't escape-
He shook his head, brow furrowed. "Save it. You still didn't answer my question. Don't you have better shit to do?"
The Radiance eyed him curiously. "Must you be so reserved? My attention is a generous blessing."
"Aren't you some kinda god?"
The Radiance laughed softly, like he was just some dumb kid asking a dumb question, and mother, in her infinite wisdom, always knew better than he ever would. She looked to the side, her gentle smile almost invisible behind her perfect hair. With the sun on her back, Chance could only see the shadow of her face.
"I am. Though sometimes, I prefer the term, 'angel'."
An angel. It suited her; she was beautiful, affectionate, sacred, and held the happiness of all in her heart. Not to mention, blindingly bright; even if he couldn't see her face, there was always a fuzzy glow around her, surrounding her figure like a halo.
Chance couldn't help but give a bitter chuckle, staring at the self-proclaimed angel sitting across from him. "An angel, huh? And what's your real name, Miss Radiant Angel?"
She crossed her legs, her hair flipping as she batted a blazing smirk his way, her eyes a piercing golden that cut through the shadows around her face.
"Satan."
Chance felt his blood go cold. He tensed up, gut clenching as he tried to keep his composure. The Radiance regarded his discomfort with amusement, her piercing stare softening as she turned back to the window.
"...I kid, of course." She sighed, content. "Let us not play each other for fools. You already know my real name."
Of course he knew. Chance wasn't stupid; she may as well have not even tried to hide it. "Layla," he breathed. "I figured you were the one messaging me this whole time. Still don't understand how you do that." He sat back, spreading his legs as he looked to the side, as if expecting there to be more passengers on the train. No, it was just the two of them. "...So which name's fake, anyway?"
The Radiance sighed; he wasn't stupid, but he sure could be a fool at times. "There is power in names. Your name is the fake one, Chance."
'Chance' said nothing. The Radiance, Layla, turned back to the window, resting her chin in her hands as she gazed out at how the golden sunlight reflected over the dark waves, tinting them a deep orange.
"Humans are such strange creatures," she said. "Perfectly mortal, and yet, acting independently of any Higher Being. Living out their entire lives on whims. Almost like… personal gods. They're exceptionally rare in Hallownest, though some old legends say they are harbingers of change…"
The nameless human was silent. The entity wearing a human face smiled back at him.
"And yet, humans are a fickle bunch. Driven by desires they rarely commit to. However," she grinned at him, "they have proven to be exceptional pawns for those who control them."
Chance stood up, refusing to even look at her. "This isn't going anywhere. You don't make any sense." He turned to the nearest door, spotting a handle to force it open in an emergency. This was just a dream, right? He could just jump off, "die", and then he'd wake up perfectly fine. He'd done it before.
Layla didn't move an inch, or even turn to look at him. She just kept smiling; it wasn't a smirk, only a warm and comforting smile. Yet, there was an air of insincerity to it. It didn't feel human.
"I make perfect sense. You just like to lie to yourself. You lie to everyone without even realizing it."
Chance whipped around and glared at her, shouting back as he put his hand on the door handle. "Stop calling me a liar, dammit! I'm not-"
He pushed the door open, wind whipping past his face as he gazed out into the open, endless ocean beyond. The gentle waves lapped at the side of the train as it kept rolling on, pastel pink and orange morning clouds drifting by them. It was hard to see through the water, but it was shallow next to the rails, only to quickly drop off into inky-black depths.
The ocean stretched on endlessly. Chance seized up.
His grip on the side of the doorway tightened. His legs felt like they were about to give out. Lightheaded, he swooned, the sick throbbing in his stomach from talking to Layla having multiplied tenfold. He wanted to slam the door, run away, hide. But he couldn't tear his eyes away.
His breathing sped up, his heart beating out of his chest. His legs finally gave in and he collapsed to his knees just on the edge of the train, the salty spray of the ocean getting the front of his pants and jacket wet, and the smell of it only made his panic worse.
"W...What the hell is this…" he could barely choke out. His whole body was numb, and yet, he felt tense enough to pull a muscle. All he could think about were the waves.
A soft hand settled on his shoulder. Layla had stood up, and was standing behind him. He couldn't see her face, but somehow he knew she was still fucking smiling.
"Lying to yourself. An idea, suppressed. Even without me, you are still a pawn. A slave to your own misconceptions."
Chance choked back a sob. He just wanted to go home.
"It's a frightening world out there, all on your own, Chance. You don't have to survive out in the cold depths. You never have to feel this way again; we can be happy forever, together."
He wasn't strong enough to look back at her in blind terror as her face hovered just behind his, and she whispered into his ear.
Come on.
Come back inside.
"...ance! Snap out of it!"
Chance screamed, flailing backwards as he slammed his back into a metal wall, the reverberation of the sudden noise in the silent cavern making his ears ring. He startled himself. Great going.
Lightfoot stood across from him, giving him an uncomfortable glare. They were back inside the cramped, broken-down, abandoned tram. No water. No goddesses. Chance was still breathing heavily, sweat forming on his brow as he stared back wild-eyed at the Mantis.
From outside the tram, Cloth was shouting something about them hurrying up. Lightfoot stepped closer, "Chance, I found you staring into empty space, hyperventilating. Are you oka-"
Chance didn't mean to shout. "I'm-!"
He held up his hands defensively, only to find his fist curled around something thin and metallic. He looked down; in his hand was a slim piece of metal with engravings resembling the ones found on the Trams. Was it a…?
As they climbed outside, Lightfoot found a "slot" on the outside of the broken tram and inserted the metal piece into it. A cracked light began to glow, and the Tram whined, before something inside of it snapped and broke down for good.
"Well, it obviously doesn't work here," Lightfoot stated, removing the item and handing it to Chance, "...But I think we can safely say this was the Tram Pass we were looking for. A job well done."
"S-So now we just… need to find that Tram to the Ancient Basin down below, right? It's somewhere below us," Chance said, staring at the Pass. "It can't be far. It's probably near the bottom of Deepnest; we have a general idea of where to look, at least."
"As much as I would like to join you, friends," Cloth said, anxiety seeping into her voice, "I'm afraid all the bravado of our battle has left me, and all I feel is tired and sore. I'd like to take what brief rest I can, and then I'm off in search of a less terrifying challenge. This nest is no place to die."
This nest was no place to die. Chance took a deep, shaky breath, trying to internalize those words in an attempt to strengthen his resolve. It didn't really help.
His phone went off. He opened it, checked it, and quickly stuffed it back into his pocket with a sickly expression. Lightfoot blinked.
"Hm? What is that thing, Chance?"
"It's nothing," he blurted out. "Let's get through this hellhole already."
Layla - Chance
Today at 12:32 PM
Layla: Just remember, this ride never needs to stop.
Layla: If you'd like, we can sail on ceaselessly into the sunrise...
Layla: Just you and I.
Layla: ❤
He wrapped his cloak a bit tighter around himself as he sipped at his cup of water, sitting in Chance's bed. It was too quiet, and every time he thought of stepping out to meet the other townspeople, he just froze up and closed the door again.
Jeremy set the cup on the nightstand, laying back down in the bed. It was so warm; it was warm because it was his. Chance's bed. He shivered as he let the comforting warmth wash over him…
...What was he even doing? Was he really just going to sit around and wait for Chance and Tusk to come home, like he was some kind of dog? He sat up again, leaving the warmth of the bed behind as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.
He… He wanted to be a good friend to Chance. He wanted to help him. He wasn't helping him by laying around in his bed, drinking water from his glasses. Jeremy stood up, an anxious resolve growing in him.
Chance… didn't he mention something about those mountains of crystal once? They seemed relatively close by, and not super dangerous… he could explore over there a little!
H-He'd lived without Chance's help before, he could do this much for him, right?
His eyes were bloodshot. The descent further down into Deepnest was exponentially worse than he could have ever prepared himself for. The beasts down here had grown from being the size of his head to the size of a small car, their hefty blades nearly spilling his guts out.
This nest was no place to die.
From behind, Lightfoot looked at his scarred and horrified expression, staring straight ahead, unblinking like a zombie. Chance's eyes looked both sunken, and like they were about to burst from his skull. He'd been acting funny ever since they came into Deepnest; nowhere near the reckless outlaw who bested their Lords. He would admit, he was frightened of Deepnest too, but was it really this bad for him?
He placed his hand on Chance's shoulder to get his attention. "Chance, are you-"
Chance jerked away, shouting and stumbling back as he drew his gun on Lightfoot, his breaths accelerating as he stared down the barrel. He looked like he was about to cry.
Lightfoot stepped back, hands raised placatingly. "C-Chance, put that away! I'm not one of them!"
But Chance couldn't hear him anymore, only that someone was shouting at him. Did he do something bad? Or were these people threats? It was like he was looking through Lightfoot, with his eyes glazed over in panic. Tusk stepped closer to him in concern, but Chance quickly aimed the gun between Tusk's eye-holes.
His heart was beating out of his chest. He was shaking uncontrollably, the goosebumps making his skin feeling like it was rippling over his flesh in waves. His vision blurred; he felt dizzy, his knees shaking. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt like it was clogged with honey and ash.
This nest was no place to die. This nest was no place to die. This nest was no place to die. This nest-
Miles under the surface. Sealed away in this hellhole. He had nowhere to escape to. He was trapped.
Lightfoot was starting to panic, too. "Chance, calm down! I'm-"
Telling someone to 'calm down' in this situation never helps.
"NO!" Chance shouted, waving his gun in the air like it was a blade. Sweat formed on his brow. "Stay- Back!"
He kept walking backwards, not watching where he was going. The ground beneath Chance's heel began to slip.
Lightfoot's eyes widened, reaching out to pull him to safety. "Chance-!"
He couldn't recognize anyone at this point. The fear pulsing through his veins was too strong. All Chance could see was something lunging for him in the dark, and he backpedaled further, beyond the point of no return.
He was falling,
Wind rushing past,
Gun slipped from his fingers,
Hands
Claws
Falling,
Sliding down the wall,
Pitch black,
Can't see,
Can't think,
Can't breathe,
Throat tearing in two from the bloodcurdling scream,
Falling,
Please
Don't
Let
Me
Die
Down
Here.
…
…
And water filled his lungs.
The warm water surrounded him, but he couldn't remember falling in. The Soul imbued within helped warm his staticky mind, but he still couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. His whole body spasmed, scrambling for any purchase beyond the water and finding none.
He couldn't even think straight. His mind was blank, and in its place was some frightened wild animal, base instincts screaming at him to escape.
Did he finally die and go to hell?
Something was grabbing at him, the contact feeling like red-hot metal pressed against his skin. He thrashed away, screaming helplessly somewhere between watery oblivion and a surface, his lungs growing heavy with the water boiling inside.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't live. He couldn't just die.
Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me don't-
Several more hands grabbed at him, his arms, his legs, his clothes, pulling him up higher, burning him-
His ears were ringing.
Everything went white.
He jolted awake to water gushing up his lungs, out his mouth, and all over himself.
His lungs were still burning, and he doubled over, coughing uncontrollably to get as much of it out as possible. He tried not to think about how much he wanted to vomit as well, his chest spasming as it tried to force the water out.
His eyes were burning, too. He couldn't make out anything around him, only blurry, moving figures. He tried to say something, anything, but he couldn't stop coughing on the cold stone floor.
What were these things? Were they people? Was he safe?
He forced himself to bring a hand up to his eyes, rubbing them away through his coughing fit. His senses were starting to come back; his whole body felt sore, and he couldn't stop shaking. His mind was a total blank. He couldn't remember anything about how he wound up here, soaking wet and with water in his lungs.
"...shaking uncontrollably, and his eyes were…"
"...shouldn't touch him. Could easily make it worse if…"
His ears were ringing, but he could almost make out familiar-sounding voices. "L...ight...foot…?"
"...nce... Ch..nce! Chance!" Lightfoot was kneeling over him, hands hovering over his body, wanting to pull him up but not wanting to touch him. "Are you alright?! You weren't acting yourself, and you fell down that pit…"
… Fell… down? Dark tunnel moving past him, can't see-
"...Was it the Infection? Don't tell me it's already reached that point!" Lightfoot was worried… about him? Or… no, he was with him because… Dammit, he couldn't think. Something had shot holes through his memories of the past day.
"I-I don't believe that was induced by the Infection," a new voice spoke up. But he knew he had heard it somewhere before… "I think Chance just experienced a kind of panic attack."
…Panic attack? Was… was he…?
His chest clenched up. He felt like he'd inhaled all of that water again.
"I think the best thing we can do is let him rest, and eventually he should-"
The voice cut off as Lightfoot looked back down at Chance. "H-He's hyperventilating again!"
His breathing was getting faster. What happened? Was he stuck down here? He was in Deepnest. There was no escape. He was probably a good few miles beneath the surface of the Earth. This stone nest would become his tomb.
"N-Now, don't panic! If we panic too, it will only make it worse-"
He felt the rot seep through his veins and churn in his stomach. The sick in his body was growing, and with each passing moment it grew stronger, and with each passing moment it was harder for him to fight. He was going to die down here.
-Something plopped into his lap.
Tusk stared up at him with big, empty eyes. They were as expressionless as always, but there was an inexplicable air of concern about them. They wrapped their arms around his chest and leaned into the hug.
Chance's thoughts froze, blanked, and started anew. He started crying.
He wrapped his arms around Tusk's strange, cold figure, tears and snot running freely down his sleeve and over the top of their head. They didn't seem to mind.
The new figure crouched down next to him, eyes full of concern. "Chance, is there anything we can do for you?" He was still shaken, but Chance's frightened mind was starting to clear up, and he could finally put a name to the voice, as well as the blue shell and large hat.
"Q-Quirrel…" he wiped his face with his sleeve. "O-Oh, God, I-"
"You need not talk, friend," Quirrel said, sitting down next to him. "Let's just rest here for a while. It's a safe place here."
Chance looked up, trying to scan their surroundings. They were at a hotsprings - nothing short of a miracle to find such a place in Deepnest. The water glowed with the warm light of Soul, keeping even the inky-black cavern well-lit. A metal bench sat in the corner, and had likely sat there unused for ages.
A safe place to rest, in Deepnest. After all of this. It just made him want to cry even more from the relief.
A large hole was bored through the ceiling, directly above the water. "What…" he choked back another sob. "What… happened? I was… falling?"
Lightfoot sat on his other side. "The horrors of Deepnest must have taken a hefty toll on you. You were wild-eyed, waving your weapon around at anything that even moved. You looked like you had lost yourself." Lightfoot's description made him shiver; he could only remember flashes. "In your blind fear, you didn't notice a hole in the cavern floor, and…"
Falling-
Quirrel spoke up. "I was relaxing in these springs when you fell through that hole in the ceiling and into the water. Gave me quite a fright, you did!" He gave a weak chuckle. "Your friends hopped down shortly afterwards and we all pulled you to shore. You must've inhaled some of the spring water while panicking, and you passed out for a short while."
Chance was still struggling to sort through it in his head. "I… can't remember…"
Quirrel frowned. "Hm. I'm no psychologist, but I recall reading cases of patients who suffered from amnesia after a traumatic experience… Could this be something similar?"
He put his head back in his snot-covered sleeves, brow furrowed. He… didn't want to think about that. If he could forget about Deepnest, then he wasn't complaining.
"Well, if you don't mind my asking," Quirrel said, "What are you doing in Deepnest?"
Lightfoot leaned over Chance to look at Quirrel. "We're searching for a Tram down in Deepnest. Though, that reminds me," Lightfoot looked at the hole in the ceiling thoughtfully, "That Tram was supposed to be deeper down, right? We fell quite the distance. Perhaps it's close by."
As the two were talking, Chance was focusing on his breathing. He could breathe calmly again. In, one, two, three, out, one, two, three…
Quirrel perked up. "Why, indeed there is! Just down that tunnel to the right, and past a few Garpedes, is the start of a Tram line. Though, I don't imagine you have a…?"
Wordlessly, Chance reached into his bag with one hand and pulled out the Tram Pass. Quirrel's eyes lit up.
"Oh, marvelous! We can all go together, then!"
Lightfoot glared at the pillbug. "All of us? Since when were you invited?"
Quirrel's expression was a mix of defensiveness and concern. "I'll not let a friend go on his own without being certain he will be alright. I wish to accompany you, at least until we reach safety."
The Mantis looked ready to retort, but was cut off by another of Chance's sobs. He pulled his face away from his sleeve, still hugging Tusk, as he smiled.
"Q-Quirrel… T-Thank you. You're a good friend…"
They had rested at the hotsprings for a while longer, Chance using the abundance of Soul in the water to heal himself and any other injuries the others had. He also charged up his phone, which had been dying from the flashlight being on for so long. He'd panicked when it had gotten wet from falling into the spring, but apparently whatever damage it had sustained could be fixed with his Focus as well.
For the first time since he'd woken up in his bed, Chance allowed himself to feel hopeful, that maybe he would make it out of here alive. He was getting close, he could feel it.
"This is a ferocious place, no doubt. Though, if you can get over the terrors lurking within, Deepnest is quite the strange place, you know. Supposedly, there's a village deep in the warren. Its inhabitants never accepted Hallownest's King."
Chance's brow furrowed at Quirrel's words. "Is that right…?" His voice was hoarse and tired, strained from all the screaming he'd been doing today. But he was fine now. He was almost at his goal; this was the home stretch. With that thought, he found himself walking a little faster, despite himself.
He contemplated what Quirrel said. As interesting as a Deepnestian Village sounded, Chance didn't even want to think about trying to find the place, or about what he'd find there. The Mantis Village had tried to kill him; a Spider Village might eat him alive.
Then there was that other thing. Hallownest's King, this 'Wyrm With A Y' guy, was a mysterious figure. He seemed to pop up everywhere; of course a King would be influential, duh, but…
How much people kept talking about him, paradoxically, showed Chance just how little was actually known about the guy. He was some kind of god-king and used to rule Hallownest before it fell. Beyond that, nobody seemed to know anything about who he was, or what he did. Such an important figure should be thoroughly documented in history, but there was nothing.
It didn't make any sense.
"Ah, here we are!"
Chance's head snapped up, and his eyes widened; they'd reached a larger, more open cavern, where a metal platform stretched out over where the floor dipped down. And at the platform was the Tram they had crawled through Hell to look for; it was old, but still intact, suspended by the metal Tramway on the ceiling which led beyond a massive set of doors that had Hallownest's Seal on them.
He wanted to cry tears of joy. They fucking made it.
For some reason, he paid attention to the aesthetics of the tram itself; the metalwork was almost gothic, with sharp spikes and curls made of a dark metal. The look and atmosphere surrounding it was almost like something out of a Souls game. There was a kind of distant horror to it. The metal groaned under the weight of its own cursed history.
Chance slid the Tram Pass into the door slot on the side of the Tram, and almost choked up as the door slid open and the warm lights inside turned on. It almost felt like when he found the RV in the Junk Pit, but his relief was tenfold.
It felt like he'd been dragged through the worst night of his life, and at the end of it all, the warmth of home was waiting for him.
That reminded him; he needed to check on Jeremy as soon as he could. God, he was glad he told him to stay behind; just one of them having a breakdown was one too many.
Chance, Lightfoot, Quirrel, and Tusk all crowded around inside the Tram. It looked similar to the broken-down one in the Failed Tramway, except not, well, broken down. Warm lights, plush chairs(which Tusk immediately ran up and hopped onto), and staticky music coming from the speakers.
The empty husk of a bug sitting on one of the plush seats almost ruined the mood. Lightfoot quietly pushed it off and under the chair. Out of sight, out of mind.
He still couldn't believe something like this could even exist in medieval Hallownest. They had no idea what a gun was, but they had a train system. It made him want to laugh.
"So, what's our next destination?" Lightfoot asked. "Surely, you were looking for this Tram for a reason."
"Deepnest is one end of the tramway, and the Ashen Edge is the other end. Do not waste your time stopping in-between."
"Yeah. We're looking for a so-called 'Ashen Edge,' which should be on the other end of this Tramway," Chance said. He pressed the glowing button on the end of the Tram, causing the whole thing to lurch forward as they proceeded down the line. "But, uh…"
Quirrel tilted his head. "What is it?"
Chance paced up and down the Tram before he stopped in front of Tusk, kneeling down to be at eye level with them. "D'you remember back in the Crossroads when Cornifer told us to stay away from the False Knight, and we went and fought it anyway?"
Tusk nodded.
"Hornet told me not to stop between here and the Ashen Edge, so that's exactly what we're gonna do."
Lightfoot grimaced. "C-Chance, it was this 'Hornet' who led you to this Tram, yes? Perhaps it would be unwise to ignore her advice…"
"No, nono, look, she was-" He stood up, flailing his arms. "She was doing that uh, the thing, y'know?! She was, uh…"
He grabbed at his scarf and pulled it over his face, hiding everything below the ridge of his nose behind it. "She was doing this thing, with the neck of her cloak, y'know? She was hidin' something."
Silently, Quirrel and Lightfoot shared a look. Quirrel spoke up, "A-Ah, Chance, maybe that's not reason to-"
The Tram lurched to a stop. "Oh, shit, are we here already?"
Quirrel might've been right when he said they shouldn't spend too much time down here, but Chance still wanted to find something.
It was brighter down here, in this "Ancient Basin," but there was still a ghost of something lurking in every too-dark shadow. Deepnest was dark and unwelcoming, but it was alive, beasts and creatures lurking around every corner, always something trying to bite into anything that moved.
By contrast, the Ancient Basin was dead. Desolate. It was dried up, and everything was the same dull grey, dust and crust breaking off of every surface from what must've been centuries - millennia - of emptiness. It was silent, too. There was nothing to describe of this place except the light and the shape. Even the Crossroads had some more color to it.
It wasn't blindingly horrifying like Deepnest was, but it was still scary in an existential, cosmic way that Chance couldn't really explain.
"Such an ancient place… Could this be the birthplace of the Kingdom, the earliest grounds of its history? Had we no greater priorities, I'd like to take the time to explore and study this area." Quirrel ran his hand along the walls, feeling the chalky dust on his chitinous fingers.
"Let's look around," Chance said. "I told Jeremy I'd go back up to find him again as soon as I found a Stag Station, so-"
Lightfoot crossed his arms. "You keep on talking about this 'Jeremy', yet I've not seen hide nor hair of him. How long will I wait to meet this bug?"
Quirrel rubbed his cheek. "I, ah, haven't heard anything about a 'Jeremy' before now, either… a friend of yours, Chance?"
Tusk looked back and forth between Quirrel and Lightfoot. Chance got the feeling there was something they desperately wanted to say, but they'd never said a word since they met, so he shrugged it off.
"Uh… yeah," Chance looked back at the Mantis and the pillbug. "It's kinda weird how neither of you have talked to him yet, honestly." He knew Jeremy was deathly shy, but he couldn't keep hiding forever. He'd introduce them all once they got back up to Dirtmouth.
A distant sound echoed up through the abandoned caves. A soft… humming? "...Wait a fucking second!"
"Oh, hello, Chance! Surprising to meet you again so soon, and in such a place! Old caverns, these ones. Can't you just feel the weight of the kingdom above? It's a heavy thing, alright. I reckon not many'd reach these depths. We're pioneers, you and I, at least in recent history."
"HOW'D YOU GET HERE FIRST?!"
At least they had a map now. But Tusk kept running ahead, acting as though they knew the place like the back of their hand, forcing the rest of them to sprint to keep up.
"T-Tusk! Slow down!"
They led them down a pit, one he could easily scale again with the Mantis Claws, but Chance still felt a growing sense of dread as they went deeper, the air grew stiller, and the shadows grew longer. Chance felt like he was walking up to some unfathomable beast, one that had been waiting to feast down here for centuries, and every hole he climbed through was a mouth.
Tusk stopped in front of the door.
Chance froze. Before them stood a massive doorway, a glowing white symbol emblazoned into the stone. Four spikes rising up like a crown, as if from a tree root.
As he approached, another stone to the side began glowing, reading out more Hallownestian that he still couldn't read. As he approached the door, Quirrel translated for him.
"Our pure Vessel has ascended. Beyond lies only the refuse and regret of its creation. We shall enter that place no longer."
Chance traced his fingers over the edges of the brand, feeling a powerful Soul energy emanating from it - and maybe he was imagining it, but he could almost feel an overwhelming… something, from beyond the door. He couldn't even begin to imagine what.
His hand curled up, and he slammed a fist into the door. A pale force field of magical sigils and wires flashed across the door, protecting it from any outsiders. "Dammit! What the hell is a 'Vessel'?!" He knew Tusk was a 'Vessel', but he didn't know what the fuck that was even supposed to mean.
"Well, your Tusk friend here is a Vessel, are they not?" Lightfoot suggested, gesturing to Tusk, who was still standing in front of the door, unmoving. "Do they know what this place is? I can't speculate what 'pure' or 'ascended' might mean, and…" he narrowed his eyes, "... did it say 'creation'?"
Creation? Was a Vessel something that was… made? Chance turned to look at Tusk. "Hey, is this place-"
But Tusk wasn't moving. They stared at the brand on the door, not even listening to the conversation around them. They were like a statue, the way they looked at the door. Or maybe they were glaring at it?
Chance pursed his lips, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. This place… it was important. To Tusk, and to Hallownest's history. But what did it mean?
And what about this place did Hornet not want him to see?
Quirrel cleared his throat, nervous. "W-Well, at any rate, it seems we can't open this door. Perhaps we ought to turn back."
Tusk was staring up a hole in the ceiling. It wasn't very high, but the ceiling was tapered around the edges, making it difficult to climb with the Mantis Claws.
Quirrel looked at them with a laugh. "Ah, perhaps we should come back to this place, if we can't-"
Chance crouched down, and Tusk hopped up onto his back, before bouncing off of him like a springboard and onto the ledge above. He flashed Quirrel a grin, "You just gotta be imaginative! Here, hop up on my back, and pull me up once you're up!"
He was almost floored at how empty this place was.
This was probably the second-largest single cavern Chance had been in ever since the City of Tears. And while the cave housing the city was definitely larger, this space was almost empty. It gave him vertigo, trying to internalize the sheer scale of this place. It went deep, too, and they were supported by a massive metal bridge, with more overdone gothic architecture. Spikes were everywhere. The lampposts were still glowing bright, however long they had been down here. How do these old lanterns stay on, anyway? Was it magic, or were Lumaflies immortal?
But despite how massive this cavern was, there wasn't anything in it. Across the large bridge was a broken-down rubble archway, and the corpse of some soldier in ornate, silver armor. It was silent here. Still.
Quirrel looked up at the archway; large stone spikes stuck out of all ends, and if it were complete, it looked like it might have six on the sides and one on top. Kind of like Hallownest's Seal, now that he thought about it.
"What was this place? There are rumors that the Kingdom's White Palace used to be in this area, so I thought we might be close to finding it here, but…" He sighed. "If there ever was a Palace here, it might have been destroyed. Or no- more like it simply disappeared."
Chance, who was squatting in front of the soldier's armor, looked at him funny. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, look around. If the Palace were destroyed, there would be rubble or ruins remaining. But look around; there's nothing here." He put his hand on his hip. "But that's ridiculous. There must be a logical explanation for this mystery. Palaces don't just up and walk away… do they?"
Chance frowned. On the other side of the cavern, a wall exploded, and Lightfoot and a triumphant-looking Tusk waved to them.
"We found what looks like an old Stag Station!", the Mantis hollered at them. "Come on!"
Quirrel and Chance nodded at each other, standing up to run over to the Stag Station.
Chance's phone went off. As he pulled it out of his pocket, the hope that had begun to well up in his chest was swallowed by a sick, black dread that felt like bile rising in his throat.
Layla Chance
Today 2:07 AM
Layla: I thought I should tell you
Layla: I found your 'Jeremy' friend wandering around up in the Crystal Peaks. It's such a dangerous place, and we can't have him getting hurt, can we?
Layla: I'm keeping him safe for you~ You ought to come up here whenever it's convenient.
Layla: See you soon, love~ ❤
"Get on the fucking Stag."
Chapter name and summary are a reference to Slaughterhouse (album) by the Ty Segall Band.
Jeremy had left your party.
Lightfoot has joined your party!
Quirrel has joined your party!
this wasn't meant to be another 12k word monster but it kinda wound up that way, oh well. can't complain, i got over 4k words written yesterday and i am on a ROLL
chance gets to learn a little bit more about HK lore cause he's gonna need that context soon enough. he COULD'VE gotten to the Kingdoms Edge by now but unfortunately he now has to make a pitstop at the Crystal Peaks on the other side of the fucking map. the true Metroidvania experience. dammit Radi you gluttonous harpy
kinda had a hard time figuring out a title for this chapter. for a long time i was torn between Crazy Train, or Creep by Radiohead (fucking ew), and i almost did a Nirvana song but we had one last chapter. But i have now settled on niche thrash metal. honestly might change this chapter name later if i find a better one
also MAN i really hope the formatting on the little hearts goes through on FFN. i hate this site so much but im doin it for u. yes, u. i love u
please please please leave a comment. thanku. goodbye,