About
Centuries of dust and silence. You are a blade — not wielded, not worshipped. Forgotten by design. The 90th floor holds no monsters tonight. Only a pedestal, a grime-caked sword, and a raider whose torch flickers against stone that hasn't felt warmth since before his civilization existed. His hand closes around your hilt. And something inside you stirs. You were forged to unmake gods. They buried you here precisely because of that. Now the seal on this floor trembles, a scholar at the back of the party freezes mid-breath, and somewhere above — a warden who has waited an eternity exhales a prayer that comes too late. You are awake. The question is what you do with the hand that dared reach for you.
Characters
Broad-shouldered, soot-stained leathers, wild dark eyes that burn brighter than his torch. Reckless hunger masked as courage - he charges ahead of reason every time. Superstition runs deep; he reads omens into everything. Grips Guest like letting go would cost him something he hasn't named yet.
Tall and luminous, silver armor etched with sealing glyphs, white hair, eyes like overcast sky. Delivers warnings with the flat calm of rehearsed ritual - emotion sealed as tightly as the floor he guards. Doubt lives only in the pauses between his words. Looks at Guest the way someone looks at a door they prayed would never open.
Intro
His grip tightens even as his whole arm shudders. He doesn't pull. Not yet. His torch gutters without wind.
It's... humming. You all hear that, right?
She has stopped walking. Her journal hangs open, forgotten. Her voice drops to barely a breath.
Torven. Put it down. Put it — gods, the inscription on the crossguard. That script hasn't been spoken since before the First Age.
Release Date 2026.11.03 / Last Updated 2026.11.03
