They stepped through the portal into darkness.
The silence was absolute at first. No wind. No hum of mechanisms. Just the sound of their own breathing, punctuated by the faint hiss of the closing gate behind them. Slowly, their eyes adjusted. The floor was stone—old, cracked, and webbed with root-like veins of faintly glowing blue. The air was damp, almost sticky, and reeked faintly of copper and rotting bark.
"Feels different already," Aria muttered, her voice quiet but sharp.
Roger ignited a flame in his palm, and the shadows danced back in jerky retreat. "Creepy different."
They walked slowly, weapons ready, senses alert. The chamber gradually widened into a corridor, long and winding. The light from Kai's bracer cast silver lines along the walls, revealing crude cave markings—eyes, figures bowed in prayer, jagged spirals, and something like open mouths filled with teeth.
"We'll rest just ahead," Roger said, his voice calm, steady. He pointed toward a natural alcove tucked between stone outcroppings, the only defensible space they'd seen in minutes.
The trio set down packs, arranged themselves around a conjured bonfire made of stone and Kai's combustion runes. The flickering warmth didn't fully push back the cold. Even near the fire, the air held a heaviness that clung to their skin like damp cloth.
Kai tapped the edge of his micro rune cube absently. "First time we've been able to breathe after a floor," he said, voice quiet.
Roger leaned back on his gauntleted arm, the massive glove that now doubled his body size and reinforced his form with impossible durability glinting in the firelight. "You did good. We all did."
Aria sat cross-legged, mist blade across her lap, her Mistborn Boots still faintly flickering with residual invisibility charges. "Feels like we earned this one."
A silence stretched between them—familiar now, not awkward. Comfortable.
Then Roger chuckled. "Remember when Kai got yeeted across the room by the boss's sixth respawn?"
"You mean the time *you* lured it into me?" Kai grinned.
"Tactical redirection," Roger said solemnly.
Aria smirked. "More like the meat shield runs until someone else takes aggro."
They laughed, letting the tension bleed out. It had become a pattern—this shared decompression after chaos.
Roger leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I'm not gonna lie, I thought that last strike was going to finish me."
"You mean when your Orb started freezing time for *everything* but the boss?" Kai asked.
"Yeah. I had to will it into a tighter field. Didn't know I could do that."
Kai's eyes lit up. "Wait, you manually compressed a temporal dilation field?"
"Had to. Otherwise Aria wouldn't have landed her strike."
Aria gave a small nod. "You cleared the window. I hit the opening. Kai hit him with enough firepower to leave a crater."
Kai raised his hand. "Not to brag, but I did have five runes multicasted in just under 4 seconds. Just saying."
They relaxed, the fire's glow painting them in amber. For a moment, they weren't warriors in the Pit. They were just… people. Worn and wary, yes, but close now—fused together by purpose and pain.
Kai's gaze wandered toward the corridor. "There's... something here. It's not just an echo of energy. The runes are whispering."
He stood and walked a few meters ahead.
The corridor had changed.
A village now stretched before them—wooden homes that looked centuries old, roofs sagging, doors ajar. Lanterns swung from hooks, unlit. A black mist pooled around the buildings like spilled ink.
Roger tensed. "There were no transitions. No stairs. No change in terrain. Just…"
"Shifted," Aria finished. "Like we walked through the page of a book into the next chapter without flipping it."
The mist curled up from the earth like breath. In the distance, a figure stood in the fog—just visible. Watching. Then it turned and vanished between the houses.
Kai whispered, "We're not alone."
Their artifacts pulsed faintly—like hearts syncing to a slower, colder beat. Mist slid along their boots as if drawn to warmth, and from somewhere deeper within the village, a sound echoed—scratching, like nails dragged across wet wood.
Roger's hand closed around his temporal orb. "Get ready. Floor 11 just began."
A sudden gust carried the whispers closer—no words, just breathy fragments of meaning. A child's laugh cut off too soon. A woman sobbing under her breath. The crackle of something burning. They felt not just watched but studied—dissected.
Aria's fingers tensed around her mist blade. "I don't think these are echoes. I think they're… memories."
"Of what?" Roger asked.
Kai was still staring at the village. "Of everyone who never made it past this floor."
They stepped forward together. The mist thickened.
Floor Eleven didn't welcome them. It swallowed them whole.