9. Chapter 9 - Matt
The voices grew louder as they moved deeper into the tunnels.
Matt caught fragments first. Low commands. Stone shifting. Someone coughing hard enough to echo through the corridor ahead. Relief hit him almost painfully after hours of hearing nothing except monsters, collapsing ruins, and Theron’s increasingly strained breathing.
The tunnel widened gradually before opening into another collapsed chamber lit by portable flood lamps scavenged from the excavation above.
Their harsh white beams cut unevenly across broken stone and fractured support pillars while several operatives worked near a partially collapsed passage farther ahead.
Weapons came up instantly the moment Matt and Theron stepped into the light. At least four rifles locked onto Theron simultaneously. Matt reacted before anyone else could.
“Easy!” he snapped, stepping halfway in front of Theron before he realized what he was doing. “Don’t shoot.”
The chamber froze.
Commander Vale stood near the collapsed passage with blood running down one side of her face while two wolves guarded the rear corridor behind her. Baptiste remained closer to the center of the chamber beside an injured operative whose arm had been hastily bandaged with torn tactical fabric.
All of them stared at Theron. Then at Matt standing directly in front of him. Baptiste recovered first. “Well,” he said, “that is significantly more concerning than I hoped.”
Matt exhaled sharply. “Good to see you too.”
One of the wolves near the rear raised his rifle higher. “That thing attacked us.”
Theron stepped backward into the shadows, shoulders tightening as the low growl beneath his breathing returned.
Matt caught the movement.
Fear crossed Theron’s expression. Not that they would shoot him, but that they would force him to defend himself.
“No,” Matt said sharply. “One of the hungry ones attacked you. He pulled me out of there alive.”
Nobody moved. The tension hanging through the chamber felt dangerously thin. Vale’s eyes narrowed while she studied Theron carefully. Unlike the others, she did not look frightened. She looked analytical. Evaluating threat.
Theron met her stare without aggression, though Matt could feel the restraint tightening through him again beneath the bond. The floodlights reflected faintly across the black fur still covering portions of his body while dried blood darkened the torn fabric hanging from his shoulders.
Matt stepped closer without thinking. The growling beneath Theron’s breathing quieted at once. Baptiste noticed. So did Vale.
The commander’s expression sharpened subtly. “Explain.”
Matt rubbed one hand across his face. “Honestly, I would love to. Unfortunately most of the explanation involves ancient prison magic, immortal guardians, underground corruption monsters, and whatever the hell is currently trying to wake up beneath this mountain.”
One of the wolves muttered something deeply uncomfortable under his breath.
Vale ignored him. “Start simpler.”
Matt glanced briefly toward Theron before answering. “He’s not our enemy.”
Silence followed. Then Theron spoke for the first time since entering the chamber. “The mountain is failing.”
Every operative in the room stiffened slightly at the sound of his voice. The roughness in it still sounded unnatural enough to unsettle people automatically, but the words themselves remained controlled despite the strain beneath them.
Vale folded her arms. “And you would know that because?”
Theron held her gaze. “Because I was the last guardian keeping it contained.”
That answer did not improve the atmosphere.
Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. “See, this is what I mean. Every answer somehow creates three additional problems.”
Then another tremor rolled violently through the chamber. This one knocked loose several chunks of stone from the ceiling while the floodlights flickered hard enough to plunge portions of the room into momentary darkness. Somewhere deep below them, the roar echoed again.
The sound silenced every argument instantly. Several operatives instinctively looked toward the tunnels behind them with visible unease.
Theron turned toward the deeper corridors at once, every line of his body tightening. “He wakes faster now.”
Vale’s gaze sharpened. “Who wakes?”
For the first time since entering the chamber, genuine hesitation crossed Theron’s expression.
Matt answered for him. “The First King.”
Silence crashed through the room. One of the wolves actually laughed once beneath his breath. “That’s impossible.”
Theron looked toward him. “No,” he said softly. “It is not.”
The chamber fell still again after that. Matt could practically feel morale deteriorating in real time.
Baptiste stepped forward carefully, eyes shifting between Matt and Theron. “You trust him.” It was not phrased as a question.
Matt hesitated only briefly. “Yes.”
Saying it aloud made the certainty of it impossible to ignore. The moment the word left his mouth, Theron went completely still beside him. Matt felt something deeper than surprise move through the bond, something dangerously close to hope. Baptiste noticed that too.
Baptiste studied them more carefully as understanding settled across his face. “Oh,” he said quietly.
Matt’s eyebrows climbed. “I do not like the tone of that oh.”
“You have bonded.”
Every operative in the chamber looked alarmed again. Matt blinked once. “Great. Fantastic. Apparently we’re announcing things now.”
Vale looked between them sharply. “Explain.”
Theron looked away, and Matt suddenly understood exactly how badly he expected this to go.
The realization hit harder than Matt wanted it to. “The bond is stabilizing him,” Matt said before Theron could answer. “The corruption has a harder time holding on when we’re connected.”
He motioned toward the tunnels behind them.
One of the wolves went still. “That’s impossible. Bonds are instinct.”
“No,” Theron said. “That is what remained after history forgot.”
The chamber fell silent again. Then Baptiste looked toward Matt carefully. “And this bond formed naturally?”
Matt opened his mouth, paused, then sighed. “Honestly? I feel like naturally stopped applying to my life several hours ago.”
***
The tension inside the chamber never fully disappeared.
Even after the weapons lowered, unease lingered beneath every conversation. The survivors checked injuries, redistributed ammunition, and quietly compared their maps against Theron’s directions, as though hoping one of them would prove him wrong.
For the most part, people avoided looking directly at Theron.
Matt noticed. Theron did too, though he gave no outward sign beyond gradually withdrawing from the center of the group.
As the discussion shifted toward escape routes and evacuation plans, he moved toward the far wall near the underground stream, putting distance between himself and everyone else in the chamber.
Nobody followed him.
Matt did.
The sound of rushing water softened some of the distant noise from the catacombs as he approached. Theron stood near the edge of the chamber with his back partially turned, staring into the darkness beyond the reach of the floodlights.
For a while neither of them spoke. Matt stopped beside him and leaned lightly against the stone wall. “You know they’re scared.”
Theron did not look away from the darkness. “They should be.”
Matt looked deeply unconvinced. “That’s not what I meant.”
A faint tremor rolled through the mountain beneath their feet. Neither reacted. After everything they had survived already, the shaking had almost become background noise.
“You saved them,” Matt said. “Even before they knew it.”
Theron remained silent, though the silence felt different now. Less guarded. More uncertain.
Matt glanced sideways toward him. Something looked different.
It took Matt a moment to understand what had changed. The fur along Theron’s jaw had begun to recede, revealing patches of skin beneath it, and the claws at his sides no longer looked quite as long. The transformation had not reversed, but for the first time, it was retreating.
Matt stared until the full implication settled in.
For centuries Theron had been losing ground. Now, somehow, he wasn’t.
“Have you looked at yourself?”
For the first time, Theron seemed genuinely confused by the question. He lifted one hand and stared at it. The claws were still there, though they were shorter and far less monstrous. A strange expression crossed his face.
Matt had seen shock before, but the quieter reaction on Theron’s face seemed far harder to process.
“I do not understand,” Theron said.
The admission came so softly that Matt almost missed it.
Theron lowered his hand. “I should be getting worse.”
The words settled heavily between them. This was not relief. Not yet. Theron looked afraid, not of the King or the corruption, but of hope.
For centuries, his ending had been inevitable. Now the rules had changed, and he had no idea what to do with that. Matt felt something tighten painfully inside his chest. “You don’t have to understand it yet.”
Theron finally looked at him. The pale eyes seemed less distant than before. More human. “I do.”
“No,” Matt said gently. “You really don’t.”
For a moment neither of them moved. Then Matt reached up. The decision happened so naturally that he barely thought about it. His fingers brushed lightly against Theron’s jaw where the fur had receded.
Theron went completely still beneath his touch.
Not because the bond surged between them again or because instinct pushed him toward violence. This felt different. More fragile than that.
The chamber seemed to fall away around them until Matt could hear nothing except the distant rush of underground water and Theron’s uneven breathing.
Warm skin rested beneath Matt’s fingertips where fur and corruption had begun to recede. The simple, undeniable humanity of the touch struck him far harder than he expected.
For the first time since they had met, Matt was not touching the monster the catacombs had created. He was touching the man still trapped somewhere inside it.