The last chain shattered with a sound like thunder, silver sparks raining across the ancient chamber. The walls groaned as if the very stones feared what had been unleashed. From the pit at the center rose a shape of madness and shadow, its body too vast, too formless, to belong to any natural creature. The Bound Horror was no longer chained, no longer muzzled by divine seals.
It screamed.
The sound was a hundred screams layered together—men, women, children, warriors, priests—all crying out in terror at once. The stone floor split beneath the weight of its voice, cracks running outward like lightning. Black ichor boiled up from the pit, flooding across the chamber, stinking of rot and despair.
The recruits broke first. One dropped his sword and clawed at his own ears until blood poured
