Xarion, after steadying his breath, focused on the unfamiliar skill that remained. He had already seen his trusted abilities, the ones that had served him through wars and victories. But now, this one stared back at him with a name that sent a chill down his spine.
[Passive – Bound to the Labyrinth
The user is bound to the labyrinth in which they were born. They cannot rank up unless the labyrinth reaches the same rank. If the labyrinth is destroyed, the user perishes, and vice versa.]
Labyrinth.
That single word carried enormous weight. In the decade since the Emergence, it had become synonymous with horror.
At the beginning of the Emergence, when monsters began appearing across the world, humanity was plunged into disarray. No one knew where the creatures had come from. They emerged without warning, attacking cities, destroying settlements, and leaving chaos in their wake. Killing them brought no reprieve, for more always followed.
Then came the discovery of dungeons.
These were not natural structures, but complex ecosystems, magical formations that served as the origin points for monster outbreaks. Humanity learned to enter these dungeons, battle their inhabitants, and destroy the dungeon heart or the boss monster residing deep within. Once the heart was shattered or the boss slain, the dungeon would collapse, and the area would become safe once more.
Over time, the process became a ritual of survival.
But the labyrinth was something else entirely.
When humanity first discovered the labyrinth, they quickly realized they were not dealing with a mere dungeon. Labyrinths were different, grander, deeper, more malicious. Unlike dungeons, the monsters inside labyrinths were intelligent. They could plan. They could communicate. They had purpose.
The Undead Labyrinth was one such place. A massive, twisted structure pulsing with necrotic energy. Xarion had fought through its floors, battled its inhabitants, and ultimately sacrificed himself to defeat its ruler.
Now, this skill confirmed what he had feared.
The space he had awoken in was the labyrinth. Not just any labyrinth, but one he was irrevocably connected to. If it was destroyed, he would die. And he could not grow stronger unless the labyrinth itself advanced.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath.
This was more than just a weakness. It was a tether. A chain. A liability that could be exploited by anyone who learned of it. And even worse, his progress, his strength, his rank, was now tied to the advancement of this unknown place.
He recalled how ranking up worked.
When one reached specific levels, they transitioned into new ranks. These ranks were more than titles. They increased the effectiveness of all attributes and unlocked a new skill each time.
The first rank, Aspirant, was the starting point for all. At level 20, a person could ascend to the Acolyte rank, gaining a significant power boost, and a new card to play in the form of a skill.
But this skill rendered that path obsolete.
Even if Xarion reached level 20, nothing would happen unless the labyrinth ranked up as well.
"Wait… the labyrinth can rank up?" he whispered, realization dawning.
His thoughts drifted back to the Undead Labyrinth. There had been a statue, an ominous one, that seemed central to its core. He had not focused much on it back then, but now the image came back with alarming clarity.
The statue.
The Labyrinth Heart must have been inside it. And here, in this strange sealed room, there was another statue.
It had to be the same.
Frustration simmered within him. A skill like Bound to the Labyrinth meant he was entirely dependent on this mysterious location. He had no knowledge of how to manipulate or control a labyrinth. No idea how to make it stronger.
And yet, he had no choice.
He could not remove a skill from his Soul Status. They were immutable, written into his very being.
With a resigned sigh, he turned his attention to the final new skill.
[Active – Master of the Undead
??????????????????????????????]
"Perfect," he spat. The description was nothing but a wall of question marks. He could glean nothing from it.
Still, the name was telling. He was part of the Undead faction now, and this skill must relate to that. But what did it do? Did it control undead? Summon them? Strengthen them? He had no idea.
With no further clues, he dismissed the status window.
There was only one thing left in the room to investigate.
The statue.
He walked toward it cautiously, eyes locked on the swaddled baby carved in stone. His emotions were mixed, revulsion, curiosity, hesitation.
He reached out and touched it.
Immediately, a familiar sensation flowed into him. A rush of information formed in his mind like a new interface overlaying his thoughts.
[Name: -
Faction: Undead
Race: Labyrinth
Rank: Inactive
Requirements for Aspirant Rank: (10 Aspirant energy cores)]
[Labyrinth Features:
- Abyss]
Xarion narrowed his eyes.
This was different.
The labyrinth had its own status screen. Its own data. It was not a static structure, it was a living entity, of sorts. Something capable of growth.
But its current state was "Inactive."
What did that mean?
And what were energy cores?
He read the text again and again, but nothing changed. There were no hidden messages, no secrets, no explanation.
And the only feature listed was something ominously called "Abyss."
That name sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. Everything about it sounded wrong.
Still, he had no alternatives. The labyrinth needed to rank up. That meant he had to explore. Understand. Progress. It was either that or rot in this stone prison until the end of time.
"I guess I do not have a choice," he muttered.
His fingers hovered over the word.
With a final breath, he tapped on the "Abyss" feature.
Whatever lay ahead, it was time to move forward.
After a long second of stillness and absolute silence, something finally happened. Xarion realized, almost instinctively, that he was no longer in the same place he had been just moments ago. His muscles tensed as he immediately went on guard, shocked and confused by how he had suddenly teleported. One moment he had been standing near the statue, and the next, everything had changed. How was this possible? Magic? No, he would have felt that distinct pulse in the air or sensation through his body. Then how had this occurred? These questions raced through his head with increasing urgency as he scanned his surroundings, eyes flicking from wall to wall.
He still appeared to be underground, but this time the space was significantly larger and more expansive. Unlike the unnatural stone cube he had awoken in earlier, this cave felt natural, raw, untouched by tools. The soft, continuous sound of water dripping echoed faintly, not too far away, grounding the eerie stillness. A soft, faint glow illuminated the cavern, emanating from patches of moss growing haphazardly on the rock walls. The greenish hue lent the cave a surreal atmosphere, casting long, exaggerated shadows. Xarion lowered his guard slightly, not sensing any immediate danger.
Turning around cautiously, he noticed a pillar directly behind him. Its presence felt odd, almost intrusive. The structure looked utterly unnatural, its metallic surface gleamed dully in the faint light, its smoothness and design sharply contrasting the jagged, uneven rock formations surrounding it. Clearly, it did not belong here.
On the pillar were strange symbols he had never seen before in all his years. It was a language, or at least that's what he assumed at first. Then he came to a far more unsettling realization, he could read it. Somehow, without ever having learned the script, he understood its meaning.
"ALL TRUTHS CAN BE FOUND IN THE ABYSS
ALL ANSWERS CAN BE DISCOVERED IN THE ABYSS
ALL SECRETS CAN BE REVEALED IN THE ABYSS"
Three cryptic lines, carved in unfamiliar symbols, seemed to stare directly into his soul. Their message was unmistakably directed at him. The tone was clear, even if the intent remained shrouded in mystery. Who had written this? And more importantly, why could he understand it so easily? Whoever had left this behind was clearly guiding him, almost daring him to search for answers within this place. Promises of knowledge and clarity beckoned him forward, though he remained skeptical that anything here could truly provide what he was looking for.
After reading and rereading the same strange lines multiple times, he let out a slow, deliberate exhale and turned away. But something caught his eye, more text etched near the bottom of the pillar, close to the ground just above his ankles. Bending down with caution, he saw that although it was written in the same strange text, its appearance was different. These words looked carved in as an afterthought.
"He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster."
Xarion frowned deeply at the quote. This message was personal. It was meant for him. He had spent so many years locked in battle with monsters, both figurative and literal, and now he had become one himself. The irony cut deep, too poetic and too real to ignore. He hated it. He hated how true it was. He hated how it mocked him, reminding him of everything he had lost and everything he had become. With a frustrated scowl, he turned away and stomped further into the cave, deliberately choosing the path opposite the pillar.
Staring at cryptic text wasn't going to solve anything. His objectives were clear: one, get answers, and, if possible, beat to near death whoever was responsible for orchestrating this twisted mess; and two, find the energy cores the labyrinth required. Perhaps by evolving the labyrinth, he could eventually escape or at least gain more control over the situation. These goals now occupied the forefront of his mind, though many other concerns drifted just beneath the surface.
The cave was utterly silent, save for the occasional dripping sound, and empty. No signs of life or movement presented themselves, despite Xarion walking for what felt like several minutes. He traversed a narrow, naturally formed tunnel, surrounded by jagged stone and uneven ground. The moss glow faded in patches, forcing him to rely on his other senses. He pressed forward, moving steadily toward the direction of the faint sound of water hitting rock, hoping that it would lead to something, anything, beyond this monotonous stretch of stone.
"Don't tell me the Abyss is just an endless maze of caves," Xarion thought. The idea annoyed him. With a name like Abyss, he had expected something horrifying, dramatic, hellish, even. Something with monsters, traps, challenges, not this... ordinary darkness. Not that he wanted hellish conditions, but something about how plain it all was irked him.
Then he heard it. A sound unlike the dripping, halfway between a squeak and a hiss. Alert, he stopped and looked ahead. The tunnel finally opened up into a larger chamber. Xarion carefully crept forward, poking his head out from the tunnel's exit to survey his new surroundings.
Before him lay an underground lake, small in size but pitch-black in color. The dripping sound echoed more clearly now, sourced likely from this very lake. At first glance, the area seemed deserted, still and lifeless. But after a moment of scrutiny, he noticed a figure by the water's edge, something hunched and smaller than a grown man, drinking from the lake.
He couldn't make out many details, but it was covered in tangled, dirty fur. It was hunched and moved with twitchy, erratic motions. Curious and cautious, Xarion reached instinctively for the skill he trusted most, Hero's Eyes. He activated the skill, focusing intently on the creature.
[Race: Lesser Eyeless
Level: 1]
That was all he could discern. His low level and pitiful attributes hampered the skill's effectiveness. Even so, two things became clear: the creature was a monster, and it was weak. He could kill it. Slowly and silently, he crouched and began to move closer, taking care not to make a sound.
But as he crept forward, the creature suddenly froze. It sensed something.
"Skreeeee!" it shrieked, spinning around to face him. Now he could see it more clearly, its face was almost human-like, but twisted. Sharp incisor-like teeth jutted from its maw, massive ears twitched at every sound, and most disturbingly, it had no eyes at all.