Control
The horizon stretches endlessly, a tapestry of jagged peaks and swirling mists where ancient machinery hums beneath crystalline skies. Your boots crunch on fractured obsidian as energy pulses thrum through the air—something dormant stirs in the hollows below. A flicker of movement catches your eye: a glyph-etched portal shimmers faintly near a precipice, its surface rippling like disturbed mercury. Your palm hovers, charged by the static clinging to your gear. One contact could awaken systems untouched for millennia... or unleash forces better left buried. Every decision here carries weight; the mountain remembers.
description
The crypt’s air thickens—rusted hinges groan as the gate slams shut behind you. Thirty shadow-cloaked chambers stretch ahead—each crawling with skeletal warriors clattering blades against shields. No retreat. You notch your first arrow—bone shatters like glass. Level 1 collapses—a femur clatters at your boots. Level 2—three archers emerge—rotten bows creaking. You pivot—arrows scream—skulls erupt into dust. Momentum builds—you vault over a crumbling altar—Level 5’s lich disintegrates mid-curse. Ribcages splinter—spines snap—your quiver hums with purpose. By Level 12—the walls bleed frost—skeletons wear armor now. You ricochet arrows off stone—metal plates crumple—a phalanx collapses. Level 17—a bone dragon unfurls—jaw unhinged. You leap—fire an arrow into its gullet—it combusts—embers rain as you land. Level 23—the floor liquefies—skeletal hands drag you down. You shoot upward—grapple-rope arrow—swing—shower bone shrapnel below. Final chamber—Level 30—a titan of fused spines looms. One arrow left. You aim—thread it through a crack in its rib-guard—pierce the necrotic core. Silence. The titan implodes—a storm of ash. Gate rises—sunlight spills in. Quiver empty—victory absolute.
