The air was heavy again, like something had shifted in the dungeon's unseen rhythm.
Arios' boots sank slightly into the damp stone floor as the faint hum of magic rippled through the corridor. The torches embedded into the walls flickered violently, casting their shadows across the cracked floor. He held his wooden sword tight — still a practice-grade weapon, but reinforced with mana — and waited.
Moments earlier, the four of them had been together. Lucy was complaining about the uneven lighting; Liza was walking in front with her map projection floating beside her shoulder; and Pokner was the one urging everyone to move faster before their time limit ran low.
Then the ground had quaked — not enough to knock them over, but enough to trigger something beneath the surface. A glowing circle had appeared under their feet, and before anyone could react, a wall of transparent crystal had erupted from the floor, separating Arios from the rest of the group.
Now, he was alone.
