Raizen was sitting beside a fallen pillar, his raven-black hair disheveled and clinging to his sweat-damp forehead. His eyes were half-lidded, unfocused — not quite asleep, but not fully conscious either. He looked like a dreamer caught somewhere between the veil of reality and a fading memory. Still as stone, he seemed to have become part of the ruins themselves.
"Hey… Raizen? Are you still there?"
The voice echoed in his mind, not aloud. There was no one near him — at least, not physically. Raizen's expression tightened slightly, a faint frown creasing his pale face. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing silver-grey eyes dulled with fatigue, tinged with subtle irritation. As though the voice had stirred him from something precious… a moment of quiet amidst the endless tension.
'Sigh… Can't believe someone can be this lax in a labyrinth…'
Kezess's tone was unmistakably annoyed, perhaps even bewildered. It had been a full week since they had found themselves sealed within this ancient dungeon, and Raizen's casual attitude hadn't shifted in the slightest.
"Calm down... we're already trapped, maybe for a long while. What does it matter if I relax for a bit?" Raizen replied, his voice low, almost lazy, but not careless — rather, it carried a deep-seated calm, like a still lake that concealed unknown depths.
The dungeon wasn't like any other. It was vast — a collapsed husk of some much larger structure, twisted over time into a chaotic maze. Its fragmented architecture suggested it once belonged to something greater. A fortress, maybe. A temple.
It wasn't that the enemies within were strong — far from it. But their numbers? Overwhelming.
He had slain eight hundred of them already.
Hundreds of low-level monstrosities. Crawlers, bonehawks, echo-slimes… and spiders. So many spiders.
While the dungeon was extensive enough to rival even First-Circle labyrinths, something about it was... off. Unsettling. As if it was watching.
'Well… you did clear out this chamber…' Kezess muttered, a sigh drifting into a low whistle that danced along the mental link.
Raizen leaned back against the pillar, arms behind his head. He stared upward toward the crumbling ceiling, through which faint strands of sunlight could no longer reach.
"It has... been perhaps a week? Since we've been trapped in here. I've cleared twenty-six chambers. This place is vast... and yet, something is off. The enemies are too weak. Far too weak."
He wasn't talking to Kezess anymore. Not directly. He was murmuring to himself, noting each observation as if writing it into an invisible journal.
Kezess, ever the vigilant presence, responded in his usual aloof tone, 'Perhaps... they are good at reading patterns?'
Raizen's eyes widened just slightly, the glint of understanding flashing through his irises.
The foes hadn't changed. They were still the same species, same forms. But… the way they moved, reacted — it was different. It wasn't strength they gained, but insight. As though they had learned from him. Dozens of eyes watching. Dozens of minds compiling.
"The dungeon is adapting… rapidly," Raizen whispered.
He didn't get time to explore that thought further.
His instincts flared, screaming into his bones.
Without hesitation, he rolled to the side.
Crash!
The pillar behind him shattered as a dark, bent leg tore into the stone like paper. Another limb swept through the air, its barbed edge grazing Raizen's torso — slicing his clothes and drawing a thin line of blood.
He skidded to a stop, feet planting firmly on the uneven stone floor.
Two massive spiders loomed from the shadowed edge of the chamber. They were nearly as tall as he was, covered in thick, chitinous plates, with eyes that shimmered with an unnatural intelligence. Their movements were sharper than before. Smoother.
"Kezess, how much slower than me?" Raizen asked under his breath.
'Just slightly. But combined with their strength… one mistake, and you're dead. Don't slip.'
Kezess's voice had lost its playfulness.
Raizen launched forward, his figure flickering as he darted between the spiders. One lunged, and he twisted mid-air, letting the claws miss by inches. He landed, pivoted, and sprinted into the next corridor — leading the spiders into another chamber.
He couldn't fight them here. Not in the open.
He had to move.
'Right corridor! Then double back, two chambers north, there's a collapsed archway. Crawl through it. The spiders won't fit.'
Raizen didn't question it.
He bolted down the hallway, heart thundering, the skittering of monstrous limbs behind him. Dust rained from above as the creatures gave chase, crashing through ruined walls, their pursuit relentless.
He leapt over a pit of shattered stone, twisted through a narrow hallway, and veered into the corridor Kezess had mentioned.
The archway came into view.
Crumbling. Low.
He didn't slow down.
Diving shoulder-first, he rolled into the gap just as one of the spiders' legs snapped down behind him, cracking the stone inches from his foot.
He crawled deeper.
Darkness swallowed him.
The skittering stopped.
They couldn't see him here. They couldn't reach him.
Raizen pressed his back to the cold wall, breathing hard.
Kezess's voice was quiet now. 'Smart move. You tricked them. This room... it isn't on the map.'
Raizen looked around. The space was narrow, more like a hidden corridor than a chamber. Dusty shelves lined one side, with broken jars and half-burned scrolls scattered across the floor. A place long-forgotten.
He finally allowed himself to sit. Truly sit.
His hand clutched the tear in his tunic where the spider had struck. Blood welled faintly, but the wound was shallow.
He would live.
But the thought lingered:
The dungeon was not just a place. It was a mind. One that learned.
---
Meanwhile…
In a faraway manor, its once-proud banners now tattered and weather-beaten, a group of maids whispered near the hearth.
"The House of Helios is falling," one said, her voice hushed. "First the accident, then the rebellion… now the collapsing manor claims the Marquess and Marchioness."
"Do you think… the young lord can keep it standing?" another asked.
"Rainiel?" The first scoffed. "He's fragile. Clever, yes. But that won't stop the wolves from circling. He's a child playing king in a shattered castle."
Unbeknownst to them, a figure stood beyond the doorway — hidden just out of view.
Ryan Helios.
Tall... for a nine year-old with a presence that demanded silence. His eyes bore the same steely silver as his older brother, though his face was gaunt, from all the stress.
He said nothing at first, simply watching the flames.
A soft weight shifted beside him.
Sylvia, his little sister, Golden-Blonde hair growing.. lay in her crib..larger than a wooden chair, gripped his fingers. He knelt, scooping her into his arms.
She giggled, rubbing her cheek against his chest.
Ryan scratched her ears, eyes still distant.
The maids' voices faded behind the thick wooden doors.
"…What should I do, Sylv?" he whispered, the words not meant for anyone but her. "I don't know... if he doesn't come back… i don't know anymore..."
The infant blinked up at him.
He closed his eyes.
And for a brief moment — a single heartbeat — the world was silent.