The widened space was not a room.
It was an absence shaped like one.
The alley released them into a hollow expanse where distance could not be measured properly. The floor sloped gently downward, but the slope never ended. Stone stretched forward into a dim red haze, as if the world ahead had not fully decided to exist yet.
No walls.
No ceiling.
Just space—and the feeling of being exposed.
Eiran stopped them with a raised hand.
Immediately, the pressure returned.
Not from NULL this time—but from the people behind him.
They waited.
Every breath. Every movement. Every next step.
Waiting for instruction.
Leadership Load increased without a system prompt.
Eiran felt it clearly now.
NULL had stopped attacking externally.
It was forcing him to distribute himself thinner.
"We split," Eiran said.
The words landed heavily.
Karsen's head snapped up. "Split? Here?"
"Yes," Eiran replied. "Two groups. Visual range only. No more than ten paces apart."
One of the rookies shook his head violently. "That's suicide."
"No," Eiran said calmly. "That's delegation."
He pointed to Karsen.
"You take the left. Shield forward. You make movement calls. If something appears, you decide whether to advance or retreat."
Karsen froze.
"Me?"
"Yes."
Then Eiran turned to the priestess.
"You stay with me. You do not heal unless someone is bleeding. Pain is information here."
Her lips parted, but she nodded.
The system chimed softly.
HIDDEN CONDITION UPDATED
LEADERSHIP LOAD: PARTIALLY DISTRIBUTED
RISK VECTOR: INCREASED
NULL approved.
The two groups separated.
Not physically far—but psychologically, the distance was immediate.
Eiran watched Karsen's back as he moved left, shoulders stiff, shield slightly too high. The rookie with him kept glancing over, as if expecting Eiran to call them back any second.
He didn't.
That was the point.
Five steps in, the space reacted.
A sound emerged—not from ahead, but between the groups.
A wet, dragging noise.
Karsen raised his shield instinctively.
"Contact?" he called.
Eiran did not answer immediately.
This time, he waited.
One second.
Two.
The rookie beside Karsen took a step back.
That was when the floor opened beneath him.
Not collapsing—unzipping.
Stone peeled apart silently, and a hand reached up, gripping the rookie's ankle with precise force.
The scream was immediate.
Karsen reacted fast—faster than expected. He slammed his shield down, trying to pin the arm.
Too late.
The arm pulled.
The rookie vanished below the floor in a single violent motion, cut off mid-scream as the stone sealed again, smooth and unmarked.
SYSTEM NOTICE: PARTY MEMBER LOST
NAME: UNREGISTERED
CAUSE: MISPOSITIONING
Silence followed.
Karsen stood frozen, shield still raised, breathing hard.
The priestess gagged.
Eiran closed his eyes briefly.
This was not punishment.
This was confirmation.
NULL had proven its point.
Delegated leadership created gaps.
Gaps created deaths.
Eiran opened his eyes and spoke—voice steady, controlled.
"Karsen," he said. "You did not fail."
Karsen's hands trembled violently. "But—I was leading."
"Yes," Eiran replied. "And now you understand the cost."
The space ahead shifted subtly.
Not aggressively.
Satisfied.
NULL had drawn blood—not by breaking Eiran, but by making him choose someone else to carry weight they were never meant to bear.
And Floor Eleven was not finished asking that question.