Ren Eldrean stood rigidly at the edge of the hole in the plaza, his breath ragged. The stone tiles around him shattered into sharp fragments; each crack bleeding green mist into the cold air. The shovel in his hand shook madly—as if the steel heart within was trying to escape its fragile wooden sheath. The red light on the blade dimmed, erratically, like a torch running out of oil.
Down below, the newly emerged creature—a giant Buried One—writhed, still trying to drag itself out. But the monster was only the beginning; Ren knew that the moment he heard the deeper, heavier breathing, echoing in the depths.
And that breathing had now become a layered growl, tearing the silence into pieces of horror: "GRRHH-AAARRH…"
The crack in the center of the hole roared wider. Boulders as heavy as carts were thrown upward like bullets. Ren was forced to spin the shovel, swinging lightning-fast slashes to shatter the debris before it hit the villagers. Red-gold energy sparked in the air, but each swing stole strength from his body; the bones in his arms felt brittle.
Elena, standing a few steps behind, held little Lizzy in her arms. The golden lines on her arms were straight, radiating softly—she channeled a little power so that the aura of the shovel would not be extinguished. But her face was pale, her eyes round looking at something moving in the hole: tentacles—or rather slimy fleshy branches—slowly protruding, intertwined with calcite scales and black thorns.
One, two, three… up to seven branches, each as thick as a large tree trunk. Their tips were sharp like insect beaks, dripping corrosive green slime that billowed when they touched the stone. One of the branches grabbed the previously cracked hero statue, crushing it to dust.
"The old gods…" Elder Thorne murmured behind Ren. The old man leaned on his black staff, knees shaking. "The legend of the Mudworm Titan—a creature when the earth was young."
Marcus—arms wrapped in bloody rags, broken spear in hand—gasped. "Those are just fairy tales!"
"Fairy tales don't make the earth scream like this!" the Elder snapped, his voice cracking with fear.
Ren took three steps back, assessing the distance. The giant Buried One that had been struggling on the edge of the hole was pulled back, as if its body were just a parasite released by a larger predator. Tentacles wrapped around the monster's skeleton, tearing, swallowing, and throwing the remains into the air—a shower of bones raining down on the square.
A mass scream erupted. The people scattered—like dust in the wind. Babies cried, goats bellowed in panic, people pushed each other for a way out of the muddy path. Some fell into small cracks that gaped suddenly and never reappeared.
Ren held Elena, looking her in the eye. "Take Lizzy to the stone chapel—follow Elder Thorne. I—"
"Don't you dare say you'll hold her back alone," Elena whispered, though her voice was shaking.
Ren was about to reply, but the ground split once more. The entire square slid down two spans, then lifted upward as if by a wave. The center of the hole collapsed; a giant shaft of earth collapsed, swallowing everything close by. The shovel in Ren's hand roared—a red electric pulse through his ribs—and forced his legs to spring back onto the undamaged block of stone.
Then…he appeared.
From the gaping chasm, a black-gray head as wide as a roof of a house protruded. It looked like a giant worm, but its body was covered in cracked basalt scales. Its round mouth was split into four panels of serrated sickle teeth, and deep within the rosettes of fangs was a pulsing tunnel of flesh. Two shield-sized eyes, slimy and covered in a cloudy membrane, slowly opened—glow green with fire when they met the air.
Mudworm Titan.
The creature hissed, night air being sucked in through its giant tube. Its first pull extinguished the nearest torch and sent the hair of the villagers flying toward the hole. The second pull sucked up shards of stone, sticks, even the most unfortunate humans who stood too close. Their screams were drowned out by the Titan's throat.
Ren plunged the shovel into the ground, piercing the tiles until they cracked. Red runes flared, holding his body in place. Marcus, on the other hand, was hanging from the base of the broken statue, his face pale.
Without warning, the Titan spewed air again—a foul gust mixed with hot slime. The shockwave ripped through Ren's chest, slamming into his lungs. The slime landed on a nearby house—wood glowing green, burning silently but quickly, spreading chemical fires that water could not extinguish.
"Chapel!" Ren shouted in a half-voice voice, lungs burning. "ALL—CHAPEL!"
Elder Thorne began to command, Marcus finally helping drag the wounded. But the Titan gave no time. Two tentacles lashed out at the surface, slamming into the base of the bell tower. A giant rock collapsed, destroying the churchyard. The path to the chapel was blocked by debris.
Three more tentacles hunted the group of villagers; their tips splintered into thin claws that dug into the ground, searching for living flesh. Ren slashed one claw with his shovel—red light severing the tip. Green slime sprayed, leaving a hole in the tile that was smoking.
The creature roared, the slashed tentacle hitting Ren. The shovel's light shield appeared reflexively, but its energy was drained sharply; Ren fell, his spine slamming into the crumbling bakery wall. The world spun; warm blood trickled down his temples. The shovel fell a meter from his hand, its light flashing.
"REN!" Elena screamed, running. Marcus, seeing the Titan targeting her, pushed past the barrier, slashing at another tentacle—the spear snapped again. Marcus fell, but enough time for Elena to reach Ren.
Another aftershock shook the ground—rougher, closer. The Titan prepared to dig its way out. Its body continued to climb; its scales scraped against the walls of the hole, screeching rusty iron. Tiles crumbled, the square like a plate being broken by a giant spoon.
Ren, with Elena's help, reached for the shovel. The red runes were almost gone—just embers on the wood lines. He stared at her, his vision blurry.
"I… don't have the strength to hold this," he muttered.
Elena placed a gleaming gold palm on the handle. The gold light spread, brushing the red runes, strengthening its lightning. The shovel lit up again, though not as brightly as before.
"We have," Elena whispered, her voice breaking. "Together."
Ren staggered to his feet. The Titan was now two-thirds of its body exposed—it was probably 130 feet long. On the side of its throat, there was a sac of green light; every time the monster grunted, it twitched.
Elder Thorne shouted from the rubble, "Break the sac of mucus! It's a balancing organ! If you break it, the Titan will fall—the ground will swallow it back up!"
Ren stared at the shovel—then at the Titan—then at Elena. She nodded. Marcus, half buried in rubble, held up a bloody thumb.
Ren gathered his remaining strength, taking a running stance. The ground shook—it was hard to walk on. He moved—one, two—and the Titan spat out a stream of smoke, knocking down a stone wall in his path. Ren leaped, shovel in both hands, latching onto the wall like a tether, bouncing over the rubble, closing in on the side of the monster's neck.
The tentacles lashed; Ren only barely avoided it—the skin on his arms was cut by thin spikes, black and red blood flowing. He didn't stop. Elena, below, channeled golden light into the shovel from a distance; the golden lines on the girl's arm drew energy into the air, tracing the runes and then into the blade.
As the Titan looked up to inhale, Ren leapt, dancing on the basalt scales—looking for a gap in the green pocket. He found it: just behind the left eye—the pocket pulsed with a deep green light. The shovel rose, the runes shrieking; but at that moment the fastest tentacle lashed out, smacking Ren in the waist, sending him spiraling in a half circle.
The air left his lungs, the world spun. Ren fell hard onto the roof of the still-standing adult house. The wood snapped; he nearly fell, but the shovel caught on a support beam. His ribs screamed. The Titan watched, preparing acid spit.
Elena screamed Ren's name. she raised her hand, but the golden energy in her arm was gone—she was out of strength. Another tentacle aimed for her.
Marcus, though faltering, lunged, covering Elena, receiving a tentacle slash on the back. His scream was sharp; blood spurted. Elena held Marcus, eyes red.
Ren on the rubble forced himself to stand, enduring the pain. The shovel glowed thinly, demanding new blood. His lips were cracked, but he smiled bitterly—if he had to give blood, he would.
He bit the tip of his thumb, blood flowing. With a broken whisper, he drew a small rune on the shovel blade. Red light exploded suddenly—thicker, sharper, as if the shovel had awakened from a long sleep.
Ren screamed, jumping—from the roof, along the rubble walkway, defying gravity. The Titan turned, raising its head. A large mouth opened ready to swallow.
Ren, at that moment, stuck the shovel into the green bag.
BRRAAAKKK!
Red light penetrated the scales, exploding the bag. Boiling green liquid gushed out, covering half of the Titan's face. The monster roared—the sound knocked the roof tiles hundreds of meters away. The giant body swayed, losing balance. Gravity pulled him back into the hole he had just created, the crack widening.
Ren was dragged along with the monster, the shovel stuck in scales. He tried to pull free, but the blade was stuck in tough flesh. Below, the mouth of the hole awaited; tentacles squirmed, the stone floor cracked; the world collapsed.
Elena screamed, "RENNN!" But the ground beneath her feet gave way—she, Marcus, and Elder Thorne sliding backward to avoid the widening giant hole.
Ren pulled on the shovel, but gravity was too strong. The Titan fell, dragging him along. The air froze in his lungs. In the split second of free fall, Ren saw Elena's face—her eyes wet, her lips calling his name—and then the world went dark, leaving only the green below and the red embers of the shovel's blade.
He fell… fell… through the green mist… into a pulsing void—the heart of the earth itself.