Gregory cursed under his breath when he heard Eliza's words. Sweat dripped down his temple despite the cold of the dungeon, and his hand gripped the detector tightly, as if it could protect him.
"So we're dealing with a living, intelligent structure..." he muttered. "Great. What a wonderful shitty mission."
He looked around, analyzing the tunnels like a general in a minefield.
"If this place really is a trap waiting for a wrong choice, then we have two options: either we stay here and wait for whatever is coming to us... or we split up to speed up reconnaissance."
Tasha immediately protested, her tone tense: "Splitting up is suicide in unknown territory."
But Gregory raised his hand.
"We don't split up because it's safe. We split up because it's necessary. We don't know how long this wandering core will remain stable, and the longer we wait, the more unstable it will become. We need answers. If each group takes a different path, we might have a chance to map out some logic in these tunnels—and, with luck, find the core."
Seth watched him silently. His gaze was impenetrable. Bastet, in his mind, murmured:
"This division is what the dungeon wants... but it may also be the only way to find the true heart."
Gregory spun the magic detector in circles, trying to pick up variations in mana.
"I'll take the prisoners with me. If they die, no one cares. If they survive, we gain an extra path."
Marcus began to protest, but a glance from Gregory silenced the brute. Elias laughed briefly, as if he found the whole situation absurd.
"Orion, Tasha—you two take the southwest direction, where the airflow is weaker. Tasha goes first. If you find anything, signal with a light seal."
"Yes, sir," Orion replied mechanically, adjusting the sword on his back.
Gregory then pointed to Eliza.
"You go with Seth. Maybe the psychic can detect something if she has more time to channel."
Eliza crossed her arms, her gaze steady. "I was going with him anyway."
Gregory raised an eyebrow, surprised, but didn't argue.
"Then great. Each group explore until the next fork in the road or until you detect active hostility. Return in twenty minutes, or activate the evacuation seals."
He activated a timer on his wrist.
"Counting down now."
Without ceremony, Gregory turned, pushing Marcus ahead and gesturing for Elias and Doyle to follow.
"If any of you think about running away..." he threatened, "you'll find that I prefer to carry corpses."
They disappeared into one of the tunnels on the left—the one that smelled of dead mana.
Orion and Tasha took the right, where there was that strange wind. Tasha didn't say a word, just disappeared into the shadows with silent steps, Orion behind her like a wall.
Now only Eliza and Seth remained in front of the central tunnel, the widest one, where the drag marks came from. The one where, supposedly, "someone" had passed before.
Eliza adjusted her glasses and looked at Seth, her heart racing.
"You seem to know more than you're saying," Eliza said, her voice low and controlled—but her eyes fixed on Seth betrayed her unease.
Seth didn't answer right away. His eyes were fixed on the central tunnel, wide and dark as a predator's throat. He seemed to be listening to something that didn't come through the air—something that moved through the layers of the dungeon's very reality.
Then he sighed.
"They're going to die." His voice was cold, matter-of-fact. "All of them. And quickly."
He took a step forward, as if ending a conversation.
Eliza frowned, swallowing hard. "Wait — what? And you're not going to warn them?!"
Seth stopped, slowly, and turned his face over his shoulder. There was a pale gleam in his eyes, something between boredom and resignation.
"Haven't you noticed yet?" He tilted his head slightly. "Gregory is just waiting for a reason. That guy has been vibrating with murderous intent since the second we passed through the portal. He wants to kill the prisoners. He's salivating for it."
Eliza was silent, shocked. Seth continued, with the same clinical calmness of someone narrating an equation.
"He'll lead them into a dead-end tunnel, let something sniff them out, and then use that as an excuse to 'intervene' when it's too late. I've heard about these things happening. More times than I'd like."
She took a step forward, her gaze wavering.
"And you're going to let it happen? You're just going to... ignore it?!"
Seth turned completely toward her for a moment. His expression wasn't cruel. It was... practical. Like someone who has abandoned the idea that saving everyone is a real option.
"If you want to go after them, go ahead. But I'm not going to risk the only sure path for people who are already dead."
He pointed his chin toward the tunnel ahead of them—wide, with marks on the floor like body drags, and a damp wind that seemed to contain whispers.
"This path leads straight to the Boss. I'm going to kill the boss, end the dungeon's instability, and make sure someone survives."
Then he turned again and started walking, his steps steady and silent like someone who doesn't fear what's to come.
Eliza stood still for a moment, her heart pounding. She looked at the tunnel where Gregory had disappeared, then at Seth — who was already walking ahead, his silhouette swallowed by the living shadows of the dungeon.
"He's not a hero," she thought. "But maybe... he's the only one here who will come back alive."
Silence enveloped them as they advanced through the central tunnel. The sound of their footsteps was swallowed by the living walls of the dungeon, which seemed to watch, listen, breathe. The faint light from the crystals hanging from the ceiling cast moving shadows, as if the darkness itself were following them, lurking.
Eliza walked a few steps behind Seth. She watched the way he moved—without hesitation, as if he knew exactly where to place each step. It bothered her.
She cleared her throat softly, as if breaking a spell.
"You..." she began cautiously. "Were you that guy from Panther?"
Seth didn't answer.
Eliza hesitated, then continued:
"There was a Raid team fighting a monster, a Golem. And then we saw you. Or someone who looked a lot like you. Walking among the rubble... and a shadow... a panther. Huge. Silent. They killed the Boss suddenly..."
Seth stopped.
Just for a second.
Then he slowly turned to face her.
Eliza held her breath.
"So it was you, wasn't it?"
Seth's eyes stared into hers for a long moment. There was something ancient in that gaze. Not age — but experience. Weight. Too many truths for someone his age.
He didn't confirm it. But he didn't deny it either.
"Bastet," he said in a low voice.
At that moment, the shadow beside him distorted. As if something emerged from within the darkness itself, a presence unfolding with grace and menace. A colossal panther, black as the void between the stars, appeared without a sound. Her eyes glowed ghostly gold, fixed on Eliza with predatory intelligence.
Eliza took a step back, her heart racing. The creature's aura was overwhelming—this was no ordinary summoning. It was no tamed beast.
It was something... ancient.
"She's my partner," Seth said, as if talking about a hiking companion. "Don't tell anyone."
The panther curled up beside him, silently, like living smoke.
"Why?" Eliza asked, still perplexed.
Seth turned again and resumed walking.
"Because I'm not Rank-S yet."
Eliza frowned, confused. "You... aren't Rank-S yet?"
"Not officially," he replied indifferently. "Those idiots don't want to do a damn reevaluation."
Bastet took one last look at Eliza before diving back into Seth's shadow, as if she had never been there.
"Until then," he added, "it's better if no one knows what I really am."
Eliza remained silent for a few seconds, digesting everything.
Then she followed him. Once again.
This time... with even more questions than before.