Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 65: BENEATH THE SURFACE

Chapter 65: BENEATH THE SURFACE

The descent had lasted for what felt like days.

Reed’s shoulders ached from the constant hunching as the ancient tunnel narrowed once more, forcing his party to crawl through a passage barely wide enough for his transformed goblin frame. Behind him, Grimclaw’s labored breathing echoed against the stone walls, accompanied by the rhythmic scraping of Shivblade’s daggers as she used them for purchase against the slick surface. The golden glow from their evolved eyes provided the only illumination in the crushing darkness, casting eerie shadows that danced across walls inscribed with symbols no living scholar could translate.

"We should have reached something by now," Grimclaw muttered, his once-primitive voice now articulating complex thoughts with unsettling ease. "The calculations based on the artifact network’s resonance patterns indicated a major nexus point within this range."

Reed said nothing. The black veins beneath his skin pulsed with unwelcome awareness, spreading further up his neck with each passing hour. The foreign presence in his mind had grown stronger as they descended, whispering knowledge he should not possess—secrets of the deep earth, of pathways long forgotten, of chambers where ancient powers lay dormant. He had not shared with the others how the corruption was guiding him, how he instinctively knew which tunnels to choose at each intersection.

They are leading me home, a voice that was not his own whispered from within.

"There," Shivblade suddenly hissed, her reptilian pupils dilating as she pointed ahead. "A breach in the stonework."

The tunnel opened abruptly into a vast chasm, so enormous that even their enhanced vision could not penetrate its boundaries. Reed held up his hand, signaling the party of twelve evolved goblins to halt. With practiced precision, Thorngrasp—once a simple forager, now their artifact specialist—produced a crystalline shard harvested from the rubble of Elysandra’s attack. As he activated it with a drop of his black blood, a cold blue light erupted outward, illuminating what lay before them.

Collective gasps of astonishment broke the silence.

"By the ancient ones," breathed Steelripper, the tactical commander who had once been incapable of speech beyond primitive grunts. "A city."

The word was insufficient. Sprawled beneath them lay the remains of a civilization so vast it defied comprehension. Massive structures of obsidian and silver metal rose like the skeletal fingers of buried titans, connected by arcing bridges that spanned impossible distances. Geometric patterns of luminescent material still pulsed with weak energy along the streets, creating a web-like network that mirrored the connections between the surface artifacts they had studied. At the center of it all stood a structure that dwarfed even the grandest human temples—a perfect pyramid of black glass, its apex emitting a faint crimson glow that seemed to beat like a heart.

"The Progenitor city," Reed said, the words emerging unbidden from his throat in a voice not entirely his own. "Ahn’Karesh."

Grimclaw turned sharply, his golden eyes narrowing. "How do you know this name?"

Reed ignored the question, gesturing toward a partially collapsed stairway that would lead them down to the city floor. "We need to reach the central pyramid. The answers are there."

"Reed," Shivblade said softly, touching his arm where the black veins pulsed visibly, "perhaps you should tell us what is happening to you. The corruption—"

"Is giving me knowledge we need," he snapped, more harshly than intended. Composing himself, he added, "I can control it. For now."

The descent into the city was fraught with peril. Twice they were forced to backtrack when sections of the ancient staircase crumbled beneath their weight. As they reached the lower levels, the air grew thick with a metallic scent that coated their tongues and left a bitter aftertaste. Blightclaw, their scientific specialist, collected samples in crystal vials, his eyes widening as he analyzed the properties.

"This atmosphere contains trace elements I cannot identify," he reported. "And there are particulates suspended—almost like spores, but... inorganic."

They moved through empty plazas where fountains had once flowed with liquid metal, now frozen in twisted sculptures that defied natural physics. Buildings that must have housed thousands stood empty, their doorways gaping like hungry mouths. Occasionally, they found remnants: artifacts unlike any they had encountered on the surface, curved metal devices with organic components that still pulsed with faint life even after centuries of abandonment.

"The Progenitors," Grimclaw murmured as they examined an intact chamber filled with workstations. "They created the lord system, didn’t they? These instruments—they’re similar to the control mechanisms in the artifacts we’ve studied."

Reed nodded absently, his attention drawn elsewhere. The black veins now covered the entirety of his left arm, and with each pulse came visions—fleeting glimpses of this city in its prime, populated by beings of impossible geometry, their forms shifting between solid matter and something else entirely. He saw how they had crafted the artifacts, infusing them with parts of their own essence. How they had designed the network to maintain balance on the surface world. How they had created the lordship system as a means of controlling the chaotic energies that threatened to consume everything.

His party continued through the ruins, documenting their discoveries, unaware that their leader was experiencing a completely different journey—one of memories that did not belong to him. Only Shivblade noticed his increasingly distant expression, the way his eyes sometimes flickered with crimson rather than gold.

They were halfway to the central pyramid when the first guardian appeared.

It emerged from a side passage with horrifying speed—a construct of metal and crystalline components shaped vaguely like a spider, but with too many limbs articulating in impossible directions. Each appendage terminated in a different tool-like protrusion: blades, pincers, drills, and devices with no clear purpose.

"Defensive formation!" Steelripper shouted, but the warning came too late.

The guardian moved with fluid precision, its limbs striking three of their number before they could react. Thorngrasp screamed as a crystalline needle penetrated his shoulder, injecting something that immediately caused his veins to glow with unnatural light. The goblin’s evolved form began to convulse, black foam pouring from his mouth as his flesh rippled with uncontrolled transformations.

Reed felt something ancient stir within him at the sight of the construct. Knowledge flooded his consciousness—blueprints, schematics, control mechanisms. Without conscious thought, he raised his corrupted arm toward the guardian and uttered a series of sounds no goblin throat should have been able to produce—clicks, whistles, and subharmonic tones that vibrated the very air.

The guardian froze instantly, its limbs retracting into a neutral position.

"How did you—" Grimclaw began, but fell silent as more guardians emerged from hidden compartments in the walls and floor—dozens of them, each uniquely horrifying in design, all converging on their position before stopping in perfect unison, awaiting command.

Reed turned to his companions, aware that his eyes now glowed entirely red. "They were designed to protect this place from intruders. But they recognize the essence within me as... authorized."

"The corruption," Shivblade whispered, her tactical mind already processing the implications. "It’s not random, is it? It’s targeted. Elysandra’s attack—her weapon contained something. Something from here."

Reed nodded grimly. "A fragment of one of them. The Progenitors. They were once physical beings, but they transcended their forms. The lords on the surface—the whole system—it wasn’t created to elevate humans or elves or dwarves. It was created to keep something contained."

With the guardians now docile, they made faster progress toward the central pyramid. As they approached, they discovered pathways lined with crystalline data storage—vast libraries of knowledge recorded in formats requiring special interfaces to access. Blightclaw collected what samples he could, while Shivblade coordinated their mapping efforts.

The entrance to the pyramid stood open, as if waiting for them. Inside, they found a vast chamber with a central platform surrounded by control stations. Alien script covered every surface, but to Reed’s mounting horror, he could read it perfectly.

"This was their final sanctuary," he translated, running his fingers over a glowing console that activated at his touch. "When the breach occurred, they retreated here to implement their last resort."

Images appeared in the air above the platform—projections showing a cataclysmic event. A tear in reality, entities of pure chaotic energy pouring through. The Progenitors fighting back with their technology, failing, then implementing a desperate plan.

"They couldn’t destroy the entities," Reed continued, his voice growing hollow as the knowledge transferred to him. "So they created a containment system—the artifact network. The lords were merely caretakers, chosen vessels enhanced to maintain the seals. But the system was never meant to be permanent."

Grimclaw stepped forward, his evolved mind quickly grasping the implications. "The awakening of our kind—it’s not evolution. It’s... activation. We’re part of some kind of backup system."

"Yes," Reed whispered, placing both hands on the central console. His corrupted arm sank partially into the material, forming a direct interface that caused the entire chamber to illuminate with blinding light. "The goblins were created as vessels—compatible with both the artifact network and the Progenitor essence. When the primary system began to fail, when the lords started to corrupt or die out, we were designed to awaken."

The central platform opened, revealing a pool of swirling metallic liquid that pulsed with the same rhythm as the black veins covering Reed’s body. Within its depths, something massive shifted—a presence so ancient and powerful that even looking at its partial manifestation caused several goblins to collapse, blood streaming from their eyes.

"The last Progenitor," Reed said, his voice now completely transformed, resonating with harmonics that made the very air vibrate. "Not dead, merely... waiting. The corruption in me—it’s a connection. A beacon."

Shivblade grabbed his shoulder, her claws digging into his flesh. "Reed, step back from there. Whatever this is, it’s controlling you."

"You don’t understand," he replied, turning to face her with eyes that now glowed like twin stars. "This was always the plan. The goblin race was engineered for this moment. We were never meant to be primitive creatures scrabbling in the dirt. We were designed as the perfect vessels—adaptable, resilient, capable of hosting powers far beyond mortal comprehension."

Images appeared around them, showing the truth of his words—goblins being created in laboratories, their genetics manipulated, dormant capabilities installed that would activate only under specific conditions. They saw how the goblin race had been deliberately kept primitive by the other races, prevented from developing their true potential.

"The attack on our settlement," Grimclaw realized, "the artifacts being combined—it wasn’t chance. It was the trigger."

"And now we face a choice," Reed said, his voice returning partially to normal as he fought for control of his own mind. "The entities the Progenitors sealed away are awakening. The artifact network is failing. That’s what Elysandra’s faction is truly serving—whether they know it or not. They’re breaking the seals."

He gestured to the pool, where the liquid metal was now rising, forming tendrils that reached toward him. "This Progenitor offers us the power to stop them—to repair the system, to become what we were always meant to be. But the price..."

The dark presence within him spoke through his mouth, its voice layered with inhuman power: "The price is submission. Merge with me, become my vessel in truth, and I will grant you the power to save this world from what comes. Resist, and watch as reality itself is devoured by the Outer Beings."

Reed fought for control, his body shaking violently as he turned to his companions. Through gritted teeth, he managed to speak his own words: "I can feel it—there’s truth in what it says, but also deception. The Progenitors were not benevolent creators. They were... survivors, willing to sacrifice anything to preserve themselves."

The tendrils reached his feet, beginning to flow up his legs, merging with the corruption that already pulsed through his veins. His transformed goblin form began to change further—his skin hardening into something like living metal, his eyes becoming pools of liquid fire.

"I need to know," he gasped, fighting against the transformation, "is this truly the only way? Or is there another option we haven’t discovered?"

Shivblade stepped forward, her tactical mind racing. "The records we found—they mentioned multiple contingencies. This may be only one of several paths."

The entity responded through Reed’s mouth: "The others have failed. I am the last. Join with me willingly, or the merging will happen regardless, but with your consciousness destroyed rather than integrated."

As the metallic substance reached Reed’s chest, beginning to encase his heart, the chamber shuddered violently. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling as something massive shifted in the levels above them.

"What was that?" Grimclaw demanded, steadying himself against a console.

Reed’s eyes widened in genuine fear—both his own and that of the entity attempting to claim him. Through the connection, he glimpsed something vast and terrible approaching from above—a presence that made even the ancient Progenitor recoil.

"We’re not alone down here," he whispered, the corruption and metallic substance receding momentarily as both he and the entity focused on the new threat. "Something else was sealed in this city. Something the Progenitors feared even more than the chaos entities."

The ceiling above them cracked, massive fissures spreading across the ancient stone. Through the widening gaps, they caught glimpses of something impossible—a living darkness that absorbed all light, moving with deliberate purpose toward their location.

"We need to leave," Shivblade urged, pulling at Reed’s arm. "Now!"

But Reed stood transfixed, caught between the entity below trying to claim him and the unknown horror descending from above. In that moment of terror and indecision, his mind cleared enough to make a desperate choice.

With a howl of defiance, he plunged his corrupted arm deep into the console before him, using the connection to access protocols buried within the system. Emergency lights flashed throughout the chamber as ancient machinery groaned to life. Barriers of energy began to form around the pool, containing the Progenitor essence even as it screamed in rage and betrayal.

"What are you doing?" Grimclaw shouted over the cacophony of alarms.

"Neither option is acceptable," Reed growled, his arm fused with the machine, black corruption spreading through the console itself as he rewrote the ancient programming with instinctive knowledge. "We will find our own path!"

The ceiling finally gave way, and as his companions fled toward the exit, Reed caught a glimpse of what descended—a entity composed of countless writhing forms, each bearing the faces of races long extinct, all consumed and preserved within a collective consciousness that had once been the Progenitors’ greatest experiment... and their greatest mistake.

As consciousness faded, Reed’s last thought was a question that had no answer: had he just saved his people, or doomed them all by rejecting their predetermined role?

In the darkness between awareness and oblivion, something answered—neither the Progenitor essence nor the descending horror, but a third presence that had watched silently all along.

You have opened a door that was meant to stay closed, little vessel.

And now, everything changes.