Chapter Content
At the mutant warren, near the fractured effluent pipe, the "Blackwater" had pooled into a viscous, bubbling lake of concentrated filth. The stench of industrial rot and chemical decay hung thick in the stagnant air—concentrated enough to make a normal human collapse into a seizure after one deep breath.
Three massive, highly distorted mutants—each boasting extra limbs and multiple blind, milky eyes—sat huddled together near the pipe, whispering in their wet, gurgling tongue.
"I hunger for fresh marrow," one rasped, its three heads nodding in unison. "The warriors must bring us meat soon. The 'Spire-soft' ones who wandered in last time were far too thin... not enough fat to appease the gut."
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