The city was still half-asleep when we left.
Mist clung to the streets, turning the neon lights into hazy blurs as Kane led us through the private garage beneath the estate. The vehicle waiting for us wasn't sleek like Elera's SUV; this one was military-grade. Matte black, armored sides, engine low and growling like a beast barely held in check.
"Get in," Kane ordered, pulling open the back hatch.
Lyra slid in first, tossing me a look that was equal parts nerves and excitement. Adrian followed without a word, sprawling into the corner seat like he was just here for the ride. I climbed in last, the doors sealing shut behind me with a heavy clunk.
The ride was silent at first. Kane sat in the driver's seat, hands steady on the wheel, eyes forward. The city gave way to the outer districts, then to the stretches of untamed land where the pavement broke into dirt and the horizon loomed wide.
Lyra was the first to break the silence. "So… what's this dungeon like?"
Kane didn't glance back. "E-rank. Small. Stable. Nothing that should collapse while you're inside."
That should have been reassuring. It wasn't.
Adrian finally shifted, his gaze flicking toward us. "Stable doesn't mean safe. E-rank dungeons still kill people."
Lyra shot him a glare. "You're just trying to freak us out."
He didn't deny it.
I leaned back against the seat, my fingers drumming against my thigh. My mind kept replaying Kane's words from yesterday: no resets, no second chances. I could almost picture the dungeon already: dark corridors, monsters lurking in every shadow, blood staining the ground.
And yet, beneath the dread, there it was again that ember of anticipation. My pulse was quicker than usual, not just from fear.
I wanted to see it. I needed to.
Two hours later, the terrain shifted. The road ended, giving way to a stretch of forest. Kane parked on the edge of a clearing, killed the engine, and stepped out.
We followed.
The dungeon loomed ahead, not some grand castle or ominous fortress, but a jagged tear in reality itself. Shaped like thunder, space warped at its edges, shimmering like heat rising from asphalt. The air hummed faintly, pulling mana into my core.
My breath caught. This was it.
Kane turned to us, his expression as flat as ever, but his words sharp enough to carve into stone.
"From this point forward, you're on your own. I won't step even if you're about to die. Treat this as if your lives depend on it, because they do."
Lyra's jaw tightened. I felt my grip on my swords tighten too.
Adrian just smirked faintly, but I noticed the way his eyes lingered on the rift. Even he wasn't careless about it.
Kane's gaze swept over us one last time. "Remember what I told you about potions. And remember this, fear is natural. Panic is death. Keep your heads clear, or you won't walk out."
With that, he stepped back, giving us the space.
The rift pulsed, faintly glowing, like it was daring us to enter.
My heart hammered. This was it. No turning back.
"Ready?" Lyra asked softly, glancing at me.
I swallowed, forcing a grin I didn't quite feel. "Not even close."
But my feet still carried me forward.
---
The rift swallowed them whole.
One blink and the world outside was gone. The next, they stood at the mouth of an alien gorge, light spilling down in fractured rays through cracks high above. The air was heavy, humid, thick with the scent of pollen and damp stone. Vivid flowers as tall as their heads swayed lazily despite the lack of wind, their petals lined with tiny teeth. Moss glowed faintly along the cliff walls, casting eerie patterns across the spiraling path that wound deeper into the dungeon.
Lyra let out a low whistle. "Not what I expected."
Zane's eyes swept the terrain, hands brushing the hilts of his swords. He'd thought it would be a dungeon of stone corridors and beasts lurking in shadows. Instead, this place was alive, too alive.
Adrian crouched near one of the plants, careful not to touch it, eyes narrowed. "Stay sharp. The pretty ones are always poisonous."
They started forward, boots crunching against gravel and vines. For a while, the only sound was their breathing and the distant drip of water echoing off the cavern walls. It was almost too calm.
Then the dungeon shuddered.
It wasn't the trembling of stone, not the kind of rumble an earthquake might bring. This was deeper, stranger, as if the very foundation of the world had twitched in its sleep. The air itself seemed to vibrate, a low hum that resonated in their bones. Mana surged and recoiled in every direction, responding to some unseen force.
Zane froze, his instincts screaming. Lyra stiffened beside him, daggers flashing into her hands, while Adrian's head snapped up, eyes narrowing.
The flowers bent unnaturally, their stalks twisting toward the trio as though compelled by an invisible hand. Their colors bled away, vibrant reds and oranges draining to withered grays, their once-bright petals curling like ash caught in a slow wind. The glow of the moss dimmed, pulsing erratically before sputtering out altogether.
The air grew cold. Not the chill of weather, but something deeper, the kind that seeped into the bones, dragging with it the taste of iron and the stink of old, burnt stone.
"Something's wrong," Lyra whispered, her voice tight, eyes darting to the cliffs around them.
That was when the path itself began to warp.
The spiraling trail ahead wavered, as though seen through heat haze, then buckled in on itself. Stone stretched unnaturally, bending into shapes that made no sense, arching and collapsing all at once. Vines shriveled into dust at their feet, the ground beneath them cracking in spiderweb lines.
The cavern's light collapsed, replaced by an endless dim gray that carried no source, no sun, no torches, no glowing moss. Just lightless visibility, the kind that made depth and distance meaningless.
Mist poured in from the broken black stone, curling low around their ankles before rising to their knees. It carried with it whispers faint, incoherent, but sharp enough to slice against their ears.
Zane's throat tightened. He knew this place. He had stood here before, blades slick with shadow ichor, circle etched in light around his feet. The battlefield from his trial. The place where endless beasts had swarmed him, testing his oath to the brink.
It was impossible, but it was real.
Lyra's eyes were wide, fear flickering across her normally calm features. "This isn't right. Dungeons don't… change like this." Her knuckles whitened on the grips of her daggers.
Adrian scanned the shifting mists, the usual smug ease in his posture gone, replaced with rigid tension. "No. They don't. And this…" His voice dropped, grim. "…isn't an E-rank anymore."
The weight pressing down on them intensified. Not physical, not entirely. It was the suffocating kind of pressure that came with knowing the ground rules had changed, that the balance of survival had tipped against them.
The rift had shifted.
And the dungeon was now a D-rank.
Zane's pulse hammered in his ears, but his grip on his swords tightened. Half excitement, half terror. The battlefield he thought he'd left behind was back. And this time, he wasn't alone.