They ran until their lungs burned and their legs felt like water.
Haruki didn't stop until the air grew warmer, indicating they had descended even deeper, away from the drainage tunnel, into a narrow, jagged crevice that barely fit them single file. The oppressive mana of Rico Ruban faded into a distant, heavy static, like the memory of a nightmare.
They collapsed in a heap.
Fen was dry-heaving. Sable lay on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling, her chest heaving. Wick had curled into a ball, his hands over his ears, whimpering softly.
Maren slumped against the rock wall, sliding down until she hit the floor. She was covered in Cas's blood. It was drying on her face, cracking on her armor.
The silence that settled over them was thick with trauma.
Haruki stood. He was the only one upright. He stood at the mouth of the crevice, his back to the group, his eyes scanning the darkness. He was trembling, a fine vibration in his muscles, but he forced himself to stay still.
He needed to think.
Rico Ruban was not an enemy they could fight. He wasn't even an enemy they could survive against. He was a natural disaster.
"We need a plan," Haruki said. His voice was steady, cutting through the heavy breathing of the group.
"A plan?" Fen laughed, a broken, jagged sound. He pushed himself up, his eyes wild. "Did you see what he did? He killed Cas. He killed Cas like he was swatting a fly. There is no plan, Haruki. We're dead. We're all dead."
"No," Haruki said. He turned to face them. "We are not dead yet. But we will be if we stay together."
Maren looked up. "What are you saying?"
"We need to split up," Haruki said. "Or rather, one of us needs to leave. The rest of us are liabilities. We can't fight Rico. We can't outrun him for long. We need help."
"Help?" Sable scoffed weakly. "From who? The Guild? The Church? By the time they send a squad, we'll be paste."
"Then we need to get a message out faster," Haruki said. "Someone needs to escape the dungeon and alert the Dominion. They need to know a Great Demon is here."
"And who exactly is going to manage that?" Maren asked, her voice hollow. "Rico controls this floor. He sealed the entrance. He's hunting us."
"He controls the mana flow," Haruki corrected. "I saw it. When he stepped forward... after Cas... the dungeon walls reacted to him. The mana currents shifted to his will. He didn't just walk in; he commanded the dungeon to let him in."
Maren stared at him. "How do you know that?"
Haruki tapped his temple. "Observation. Back in the Grey, I learned to read how mana moves through stone. When Rico moved, the mana density bowed to him. According to my knowledge, only beings of the Dungeon—Ancients, or those with Dungeon Sovereign authority—can manipulate the architecture like that."
He looked at Maren.
"He can sense us because of our mana signatures. We're bright lights in a dark room to him. He can snuff us out whenever he wants."
"So we're trapped," Fen whimpered.
"Not entirely," Haruki said. "He is focused here. He is playing with us. That gives a small window. One person might be able to slip through if they are invisible to his senses. If they can get past the fifth-floor barrier, the dungeon's natural ecology might hide them until they reach the surface."
"And who goes?" Maren asked.
"You," Haruki said.
Maren blinked. "Me?"
"You are the leader," Haruki said. "You know the route back. You know the Guild protocols. And..." He paused. "You have the best chance of making them listen."
Maren shook her head, a bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaping her throat. "Me? I'm pathetic. I froze, Haruki. I screamed. I fell down. I watched Cas die and I couldn't do anything. I was shriveling on the ground like a coward."
She looked at her hands, still stained red.
"A leader doesn't collapse. A leader doesn't scream 'run' and then pass out. I should have fought him. I should have—"
"You would be dead," Haruki said. "Like Cas."
He walked over to her and crouched down. His gaze was level, devoid of judgment.
"You were afraid. That is human. But you are not a coward, Maren. A coward would have stayed down. You told me to run. You were thinking of us even as you were dying. That is why you have to go."
Maren's eyes welled up. The tears came, silent and hot, cutting tracks through the blood on her face. She was crying for Cas. She was crying for herself. She was crying because she knew he was right, and the weight of it was crushing.
"I can't," she whispered. "I can't leave you all here to die."
"We will hold him," Haruki said. It was a lie, and they both knew it. They were meat shields. Distractions. But it was the only way. "We will buy you time."
Haruki reached into his jacket. He felt the small pouch he had kept hidden since he left the outpost. The gift from the Grey.
He pulled out the small cloth bag and opened it. Inside lay three stones—dark, unassuming, but thrumming with a dense, ancient power.
Maren stared at them. "What are those?"
"A gift," Haruki said. "From people who lived in the place between life and death. The Grey."
He took one stone out. It was cool to the touch.
"This is a Stone of Disguise," Haruki explained. "It's an Old material. It doesn't just mask your presence; it camouflages your aura completely. To Rico, you won't register as a human. You'll register as... nothing. Just background noise. Dungeon static."
He pressed the stone into her palm.
"This will safeguard you from his senses. As long as you hold it, he won't be able to track your mana."
Maren gripped the stone tightly. It pulsed against her skin.
"But..." Haruki said, his voice dropping. He stood up, pulling his folding knife from his pocket. He opened it, the blade glinting in the dim light.
"There is a problem. The dungeon recognizes us by our blood and mana signature now. The stone hides your mana, but the dungeon's barriers on the upper floors are attuned to the physical bodies of intruders. You won't be able to pass through the security wards without a key."
He looked Maren in the eye.
"I need to trick the dungeon. I need to give it a payment to let you pass."
He held out the knife, handle first, to her.
"But first," Haruki said, his voice calm but iron-hard, "I need your hand. Cut it and give it to me."
Maren froze. The horror of the night had numbed her, but this pierced through.
"What?" she whispered.
"The dungeon accepts blood as currency," Haruki said, not flinching. "If I have a sample of your blood—specifically from a fresh wound—and I use it with a mana stone at the barrier, I can trick the ward into thinking you are still inside, while your body walks out. It's a substitution."
He stared at her.
"Give me your hand, Maren. Cut it. Let me take your blood."
The request was grotesque. It was the request of a madman. But looking into Haruki's eyes, Maren didn't see madness. She saw the same terrifying competence he had shown when he fixed Wick's strap, when he collapsed the wall, when he burned the strings.
She looked at the knife. Then at her team—Fen, broken and scared. Sable, silent and accepting. Wick, traumatized.
Then she looked at Cas's blood on her armor.
She took the knife.
"Deep enough to bleed," Haruki instructed. "Not enough to disable."
She placed the blade against the meat of her palm, just below the thumb. She looked at Haruki one last time.
"If we die here..."
"You won't," Haruki said. "Run. And don't look back."
She drew the blade across her skin.
TO BE CONTINUED...