Steel rang out ahead.
Not monsters.
Controlled. Deliberate.
Sera halted immediately and retreated ten meters back into shadow. She waited, counting breaths.
A woman emerged into view, sword lowered but ready. Her armor was damaged but maintained. Her movements were efficient—no wasted motion.
Another survivor.
That made her unpredictable.
Sera stayed hidden.
The woman scanned the corridor, eyes sharp, then spoke without turning.
"You can come out," she said. "Or you can keep watching. Either way, don't interfere."
Sera considered her options.
Fighting costs mana. Avoiding risk preserved it.
She stepped into view.
"I'm not here to interfere," Sera said. "Temporary alignment only."
The woman studied her for a moment, then nodded.
"Fine. I'm moving through this section."
"Then I'll keep my distance."
They did not exchange names.
They moved together—not as partners, but as parallel paths. When monsters attacked, they fought separately, covering space without coordination. No trust. No reliance.
It worked.
At the end of the corridor, they stopped.
"This is as far as I go," the woman said.
"Same," Sera replied.
They turned and walked away from each other without hesitation.
No bond formed.
No promises made.
But Sera noted one thing as she continued alone.
For the first time since entering the labyrinth, survival had not required isolation.
That was not comfortable.
It was data.
And data could be useful.