Eater Blade: Grinding in Apocalypse
Chapter 66: TESTING THE HOLES — PART 2.

Chapter 66: TESTING THE HOLES — PART 2.

The tunnels swallowed them whole.

It was like diving into a twisting waterslide from hell, only made of polished stone and soft, wet resin. The moment their feet left the edge, gravity flipped them into a surreal tumble.

Savier yelled first.

"WOOOOO! Hell yeah, slide of death, baby!"

Johnquis, more composed, muttered under his breath as he twisted sideways, trying to slow himself against the smooth walls.

"This is absurd. I am not dying in what feels like a goddamn amusement park ride." _{f r\eew,eb novel.c(o)(m)}

Dancer didn’t make a sound, but her claws clicked lightly, catching onto the walls in bursts like a dancer skipping on a spiral.

WHOOSH—THUNK—CRASH!

Johnquis landed hard on something rubbery, bounced, flipped midair, and slid spinning down a slick chute that twisted like a corkscrew. The walls glowed faintly red, pulsing with faint warmth. He was not a fan of slides. Never had been.

"Okay... this is not how gravity works."

WHOOOSH!—THUMP!

A second body slammed into him from the side—Savier, yelling all the way.

"WOOOO! HA! BEST. SLIDE. EVER—OH SHIT—"

They collided, tangled mid-spin, and tumbled through a sudden vertical drop. The chute twisted again, then spat them out—

THU-THU-THUMP!

They were all flung out into the same wide chamber...again.

Savier landed flat on his back with a heavy OOF, blinking up at the glowing stone ceiling.

"...Ow."

Johnquis thudded down next, feet-first like a pro, but he stumbled as the floor slanted beneath him. He hit a low slope, rolled then slid right into Savier.

"FUCK—GET OFF ME."

"Get off you? You slammed into me, man!"

WHHHHHSSSHH—CLANG!

From above this time, Dancer came down like a comet, flipped three times in the air, landed gracefully in a crouch... right back where she’d jumped from.

She didn’t look surprised. Just annoyed.

Savier pointed. "Top hole. Nice. You got air-dropped."

He sat up slowly. Blinked. Looked at the walls. Then blinked again.

"...Wait a minute."

Johnquis had already turned a slow, grim circle.

"No."

"Are we... back?"

Johnquis groaned. "Yeah. The holes loop."

"They loop," Savier repeated, rubbing his temples. "As in: all of them. They’re connected. We just, played ourselves."

Dancer stood and started pacing again, claws twitching. She didn’t like being tricked. Not at all.

Savier leaned back on his elbows. "So not only did we get juked by some dirt-loving mole freak, but the queen turned her nest into a circular funhouse from hell. Great. Just great."

Johnquis stood and dusted himself off. "This is exactly what I meant. A psychological maze. Misdirection. The digger’s not just hiding the nest, it’s toying with us."

Savier sighed. "You think the queen watched us fall through those holes? Sitting on some evil dirt throne just... enjoying the show?"

Johnquis rolled his eyes. "She’s not a cartoon villain."

Savier pointed at the nearest pit. "Dude. This is cartoon bullshit. I just flew down two kilometers of intestine tube and landed in the same damn hole."

"Not the same hole," Johnquis said. "The Digger’s made this place fold in on itself. The deeper you go, the more it reroutes. It probably scans pressure weight or movement. Tracks how fast we drop, adjusts the tunnel’s shape in real-time."

"You’re saying this hole decides where we come out based on how we fall?"

"Yes."

Savier tilted his head. "...That’s actually kind of badass."

"It’s terrifying."

"No! It’s like... intelligent evil. Like if a haunted carnival decided to study mechanical engineering and hate people."

Dancer clicked her claws sharply, scanning the ceiling. She gestured up then down then to the farthest wall.

Johnquis turned slowly. "The entire layout shifts. Like a Rubik’s cube. It can literally change the nest’s shape while we’re inside."

Savier stared. "Okay. So we’re fighting a mole that’s also an architect, an engineer, a magician and a complete asshole."

"A survivalist," Johnquis corrected. "One that’s lasted over seven years in Guild territory without getting wiped. That takes more than strength. That’s intelligence."

"Yeah, well," Savier muttered, brushing off dirt, "smart or not, they turned me into a pinball."

Dancer stalked to one of the holes and kicked a small stone into it. No echo. Just silence. Again.

She clicked her teeth together, frustrated.

"Dancer’s pissed," Johnquis said. "She doesn’t like being tricked."

"Neither do I," Savier said, crossing his arms. "You know what this is starting to feel like?"

"What?"

"A dungeon boss puzzle. One of those annoying ones where the devs think it’s clever, but really it just makes everyone rage-quit."

"Except this time, rage-quitting gets you killed," Johnquis muttered.

Savier sighed and flopped back onto the stone floor. "So now what? We just go hole-hopping till one spits us into the queen’s mouth?"

Johnquis looked at the floor thoughtfully. "No. We need to stop reacting. Start thinking like the Digger."

"Oh sure, easy," Savier said, staring at the ceiling. "Just gotta think like a mole monster with a fetish for architecture and humiliation."

Johnquis crouched near one of the pits, staring into it like he was trying to see through the stone itself. His eyes narrowed, then flicked to the ceiling, the slope of the floor, the faint glow from the resin-coated walls. He was thinking hard.

"...We’ve been going at this wrong."

"Oh good. Enlighten us."

"Every hole, every turn, it’s all part of the design. The Digger’s design. And it’s not just hiding. It’s controlling."

Dancer tilted her head, listening.

Johnquis stood and paced slowly. "Every slide, every route we’ve taken, it’s reshaped them. Not just physically. Strategically. The longer we stay lost, the more chances the queen has to prep or worse—feed."

Savier frowned. "So what? We brute-force every tunnel until we land in the right one?"

"No," Johnquis said sharply. "We stop playing its game. If we want to kill this thing, we don’t follow its rules...we break them."

He turned to Savier. "Your shotgun mode. Use it."

"You want me to shoot the walls?"

"No. I want you to carve a path. If this nest is a shifting trap, we stop sliding and start digging. New path. One it didn’t build. One it can’t control."

Savier gave a slow, mischievous grin. "Now that’s more like it."