The terrain of Floor 6 unfurled into a scorched expanse, a battlefield left to rot beneath ancient stone. Blackened bones, shattered weapons, and craters riddled the ground like open wounds, whispering of chaos that had long since burned itself out. Goblin corpses, insectoid husks, and twisted orc cadavers with scorched eye sockets lay piled like discarded memories.
Roger crouched beside a half-melted shield, fingers brushing its charred edge. "This wasn't one battle," he muttered. "This was a purge. Everything here got wiped out."
Kai knelt beside him, inspecting a rune etched into a cracked warhammer. "Precise. Controlled. Whoever did this knew exactly where to strike—and how."
Aria stood still, her eyes narrowed as she swept the horizon. "This was the Director."
Silence fell like ash.
They walked for hours, the ground crunching beneath ash-caked boots. The air was dry, brittle with the scent of old magic and iron. Ruined banners fluttered weakly from crumbling spires, colorless and forgotten.
Roger nudged a goblin skull with his boot. "Think this one had a family?"
Kai blinked. "Probably. Why?"
Roger tilted his head. "He's giving me a look like I owe him child support."
Aria smirked. "You? Settle down?"
Roger held up a cracked helmet. "Goblins just couldn't handle all this."
Kai laughed. "Maybe their bones melted in protest."
Morbid humor sparked laughter. It made the death feel further away.
As light dimmed—or perhaps just changed—they made camp by a cracked monument: a stone sword impaled through a sun-bleached skull. The flickering shadows gave the illusion of a shrine long forgotten.
Roger sparked a fire with a flint and some dried moss. Kai laid out strips of preserved meat. Aria cleaned her blade with measured movements.
"We've had harder floors than this," Aria observed.
"He cleared it for us," Roger said.
Kai stared into the flames. "But why? He said he wouldn't interfere."
"Maybe he thinks we're not ready," Aria murmured.
Their silence held weight, heavier than the ash beneath their feet.
Morning arrived without sunlight. The gray sky above the cavern was unchanged. They trained near a crater where shattered armor had fused into the rock.
Roger stood behind Kai, adjusting his posture. "You're leading with your chest. Shift your weight back. Legs give you stability."
"I'm not a brawler," Kai protested.
"No, but you've gotta survive until your rune activates. Balance matters."
Kai copied the stance. "Like this?"
"Better. Go see Aria."
Nearby, Aria moved across the broken terrain like mist. "Stealth isn't about silence—it's about control."
Kai stumbled over gravel. Aria appeared beside him, steadying him with a hand. "Feel the ground. Let it speak first."
Roger chuckled. "She's a better teacher than me."
Kai muttered, "She's terrifying."
Laughter again, sharper and more welcome.
Later, they rested beside a jagged boulder shaped like a broken fang. Kai sketched glowing runes onto the stone.
"This one distorts time. Half a second delay if it hits clean. Stack two, get nearly a full second."
Roger scratched his chin. "Plenty of time for a punch."
"Or a dodge," Aria added.
Kai nodded. "But casting them mid-battle's tricky. Layering matters."
He passed them scrolls. Roger squinted. "This one's upside down."
"It's glowing," Kai warned.
A ripple burst outward, knocking Roger on his back.
Aria laughed out loud. "Nice one."
Kai grinned. "Lesson one: intention matters."
They continued traveling, crossing broken bridges and weaving through collapsed ruins. A rusted sword lodged in stone marked their halfway point. Time blurred—an hour, a day, maybe more.
As they entered a clearing littered with corpses—goblins, insectoids, even a mangled troll—they halted.
All had fallen the same way: clean wounds, instant death.
Roger slowed his pace. "The Director did this alone. Not even a misstep."
Aria knelt, examining a severed hand. "No defense wounds. These things didn't stand a chance."
Kai looked away, lips tight. "He cleared it to protect us. But it means we're weak."
They walked in silence until twilight painted the cavern dimly. Roger called for rest, and they dropped packs by a smooth rock formation shaped like a throne.
As they set camp, Aria leaned in and whispered to Kai, "Want another lesson?"
He nodded eagerly.
This time, she instructed him in stalking techniques, using shadows and terrain. "No sudden moves. Let your presence vanish."
Roger watched from a distance, then joined. "When you're done hiding, I'll teach you how to punch a rock and make it think twice."
Kai laughed. "You two are terrible influences."
But he watched them both carefully, absorbing everything.
That night, after dinner, Kai unfurled a blank scroll. "Now it's my turn."
Roger raised a brow. "You gonna teach us how to blow ourselves up?"
Kai ignored him and began drawing a complex rune. "This is a temporal anchor. Stabilizes a moment. Prevents energy shifts."
Aria leaned closer. "Useful in illusions?"
"Very. Especially if you tie it to breath control."
They spent an hour inscribing and triggering runes, occasionally sending rocks tumbling or nearly setting Roger's boots on fire.
It felt like growth.
Eventually, they reached the end of the floor: a monolith of obsidian stone rising from rubble. Faint runes shimmered like embers along its surface.
Kai brushed off the dust and read aloud:
**"This floor has been cleared. The others won't be. If you do not struggle, you do not grow. We survive by adapting—not rushing. That takes time. Good luck. We'll meet again on Floor 25."**
A spiral glyph was etched below.
Roger exhaled slowly. "Next time, we bleed for every step."
Kai placed a hand on the stone. "And earn every inch."
Aria stepped forward, eyes already set on the gate. "Let's not keep fate waiting."
Together, they moved into the light ahead, no longer just survivors—but a team, forged by rest, laughter, and the will to grow.