The tunnel sealed shut behind them with a dull, crushing boom.
Max spun around instantly, his heart pounding—but where there had once been a passage, there was now only solid rock. Dense. Compact. As if an exit had never existed at all.
"Is that… normal?" he asked, swallowing hard.
Mira placed her palm against the stone wall, remaining silent for several seconds.
"No," she said at last. "None of this is."
The air changed.
It wasn't just heavier—it was dense, as if every breath demanded more effort than the last. The glowing veins of adenite faded away, replaced by dull, dark minerals that seemed to swallow the little light that remained.
A chill ran down Max's spine.
The system screen appeared without being summoned.
Zone detected: Floor 20
Warning: High-hostility area
Recommended status: Immediate retreat
Max clenched his teeth.
"Great…" he muttered. "I thought we were heading out."
Mira frowned slightly.
"That makes no sense. We were going up."
"My system says otherwise," Max replied. "And usually… when it's wrong, something horrible is about to happen."
The screen flickered.
Correction detected.
Localization error.
Final result: Floor 20 confirmed.
A tight knot formed in Max's stomach.
"See?" he said. "Even when it tells the truth, it still sounds like a lie."
Mira let out a short nasal laugh.
"Then we're on an intermediate floor," she said. "Not as deep as Floor 32… but far more dangerous than the upper levels."
"What kind of danger?"
She didn't answer immediately.
She crouched, placed her hand on the ground, and closed her eyes.
"The earth here is restless," she whispered. "As if something is using it without permission."
Max really didn't like that.
They moved forward cautiously. The tunnel widened until it opened into a massive circular cavern, with natural pillars rising into darkness beyond sight. Between them lay broken weapons, scattered bones… and deep gouges carved into the stone.
"This looks like…" Max hesitated. "A battlefield."
"It was," Mira confirmed. "And it probably still is."
The system appeared again.
Environmental Analysis:
Dominant creatures: Unknown
Encounter probability: High
Survival probability: Low
Max took a deep breath.
"Okay. Don't panic. If it says 'low,' it's probably 'high.'"
"Max," Mira said sharply. "Don't blindly contradict it here."
He looked at her, surprised.
"Huh?"
"Your system lies," she explained. "But not always in the same direction. Sometimes it exaggerates danger. Sometimes it downplays it. You survive because you interpret—not because you ignore."
That hit harder than any monster.
"So… I've survived until now by sheer luck?"
Mira shook her head.
"No. Because you make decisions even when you're afraid."
Before he could respond, something moved between the pillars.
It wasn't large.
That was the disturbing part.
Humanoid figures—thin, with overly long limbs and twisted joints—slid out from the shadows. Their faces were smooth, without eyes or mouths, just a taut surface that vibrated faintly.
The system reacted instantly.
Enemies detected:
Name: Watchers of the Threshold
Estimated level: ???
Evaluation: Non-hostile
Max's eyes went wide.
"…Non-hostile?"
One of the Watchers tilted its head.
The air trembled.
A sharp pain stabbed behind Max's eyes, as if something were trying to look inside him.
"Mira," he whispered. "That is definitely hostile."
"Yes," she replied, tensing. "Very."
The system flickered again.
Correction:
Previous evaluation incorrect
Threat level: Extreme
Recommendation: Do not resist
A nervous laugh bubbled up Max's throat.
"There it is. Now that sounds honest."
A new notification forced itself onto the screen.
New Skill Available
Name: Statistical Denial
Description: While the user believes victory is impossible, all offensive values are temporarily multiplied.
Warning: Prolonged use may result in total status collapse.
Max froze.
"…What?"
"Max," Mira said quickly. "Don't use it yet."
But one Watcher stepped forward.
Then another.
Then another.
They surrounded them.
The pain in Max's head intensified. He felt watched—from within, not from outside.
The system issued one final message.
Final confirmation:
These enemies are too powerful.
There is no possibility of victory.
Max clenched his fists.
And smiled.
"Then…" he murmured, "I get it now."
He activated the skill.
The world shattered.
Not visually—but in sensation. His body screamed, every muscle straining beyond its limit. The ground beneath his feet cracked as he took a single step forward.
"Max, stop!" Mira shouted.
But he was already moving.
His first strike passed through the Watcher like smoke—then detonated from within, the creature disintegrating into fragments of dark energy.
Max froze.
"…What did I just do?"
The other Watchers recoiled—for the first time.
Then they retaliated.
The air compressed violently, slamming Max into a pillar. He spat blood. The skill remained active, but the pain was real. Too real.
"MAX!"
Mira advanced, her golden eyes blazing.
"Fall back," she ordered. "Now."
"I can't!" he shouted. "If I deactivate it, I die!"
Mira closed her eyes.
"Then listen carefully, you liar."
She struck the ground.
"Morvyn Domain: Root of the Living Stratum."
The pillars bent like clay. The ground surged upward, forming a massive wall between Max and the Watchers. The pressure vanished instantly.
Max collapsed to his knees as the skill forcibly deactivated.
The system reappeared—distorted.
Critical status.
Warning: User has once again survived an impossible scenario.
Conclusion: Inconsistency detected.
Max looked up, utterly exhausted.
"…Did you hear that, Mira?"
She caught him before he fell.
"Yes," she said with a tired smile. "Your system doesn't know what to do with you anymore."
And on Floor 20, for the first time—
The lie began to hesitate.