Frank and Elara walked downward into the dark. After Frank had destroyed the swarm of bone-spiders with one massive punch, they had found a long, winding staircase made of rusted metal. They had been climbing down the stairs for what felt like hours. The air grew hotter with every single step. It was no longer just warm. It was a thick, wet, suffocating heat. It felt like walking directly into the mouth of a roaring furnace. The only light in the dark stairwell came from Frank’s left side. His new Phantom Limb glowed brightly. It was a beautiful, translucent arm made of pure, compressed energy. Bright neon blue and fierce, burning gold light swirled together under the shape of glowing skin. Tiny sparks of lightning crackled and popped around his glowing fingers. Frank kept opening and closing his new energy hand as they walked. He was still trying to get used to it. It was completely weightless. Because it was made of magic light and not real meat and bone, it did not drag his sho

Frank threw his body forward. He slammed his chest onto the solid part of the path ahead of him. He used his human right arm and his glowing Phantom Limb to grab the bone and pull himself forward, yanking his leg out of the hole just before a splash of boiling acid hit his boot. He scrambled back to his feet without stopping. He could not stop. "I am okay! Keep going!" Frank panted. They took a sharp right turn in the maze. The path ahead of them suddenly became much, much narrower. It went from three feet wide to barely one foot wide. It was just a thin, curved spine of bone stretching over a particularly violent, churning pool of golden acid. "We have to go single file!" Frank yelled. "It is too thin! You go first, Elara! You are lighter and faster! I will follow you!"Elara did not argue. She squeezed past Frank on a slightly wider section of the path. She took a deep breath, focusing her pale eyes on the thin bone spine ahead. She began to run across the narrow beam. She mov

The dark steel hallway was completely silent, except for the soft, heartbreaking sound of human weeping. Frank and Elara froze. They stood on the edge of the smooth, black metal floor. Behind them, the massive ocean of golden acid boiled and popped loudly in the Stomach cavern. The bright yellow steam hissed against the rocks. But in front of them, the shadows were deep and heavy. "Did you hear that?" Elara whispered. She kept her voice extremely low. She gripped her small steel dagger tightly in her right hand. "I heard it," Frank said. He held his rusty iron pipe in his right hand. On his left side, his new Phantom Limb flickered. It was made of pure, compressed magical energy. Bright neon blue and fierce golden light swirled together under the shape of an arm. It cast a dim, shifting light into the dark hallway. The crying came again. It was the sound of a young girl. It sounded so small, so completely alone, and so utterly terrified. Frank felt a cold knot of dread form in hi

The refugees stared at her. They saw the blood on her clothes. They saw the fierce, burning determination in her pale eyes. She looked like a true warrior queen. Frank watched her from the shadows at the edge of the camp. He felt a deep, overwhelming sense of admiration for Elara. She was so strong. She was so brave. She was exactly what these broken, terrified people needed. But as Frank looked past Elara, as he looked into the faces of the forty refugees gathered in the crater, the admiration vanished. It was replaced by a crushing, suffocating, unbearable weight. It was guilt. Frank stepped further into the dim yellow light of the boiling acid. He looked at the faces of the people. He recognized them. Over by a torn carpet, he saw a plump woman holding a broken arm. It was Mrs. Gable. She used to run the bakery on the corner of the lower district. When Frank was a starving street rat, she used to chase him away with a broom. But sometimes, when it was raining really hard, she

The scream of the little boy echoed through the massive cavern. It bounced off the dark steel walls of the ancient bunker. It rolled over the violent, boiling ocean of golden acid in the Stomach. It was a high, piercing sound of absolute, pure terror. It was the sound of a child who was looking at a monster. Frank Williams took another step backward into the deep shadows of the hallway. He wanted the darkness to swallow him whole. He wanted to disappear. He felt his heart hammering against his broken ribs. The bright neon blue and fierce golden light of his Phantom Limb flickered wildly, casting shaking, scary shadows across the walls. The little boy’s scream acted like a spark in a room full of dry wood. The silence of the refugee camp shattered into a million pieces. The panic spread instantly. "Get back!" a woman yelled, grabbing her children and pulling them behind a jagged rock. "It is the boy!" another man shouted, crawling backward on his hands and knees. His eyes were wi