The air grew cold. Then it grew heavy. Then it stopped moving entirely.
Rico Ruban didn't walk. He simply appeared at the entrance of the crevice, stepping out of the shadows as if he had always been part of them. His hands were in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but the sheer weight of his presence sucked the oxygen out of the tunnel.
Fen whimpered, scrambling backward until his back hit the wall. Sable drew her batons, her hands shaking so violently the wood rattled against the stone. Wick simply stared, paralyzed.
Rico's eyes scanned the room. They passed over Fen, over Sable, over Wick. Then they landed on Haruki.
He frowned. It was a small, petulant expression.
"You," Rico said softly. "You are still standing. Good."
Then his gaze swept the space behind them. The empty spot where Maren had been.
His frown deepened. He looked back at Haruki.
"Where is the loud woman?" he asked. "The one with the staff. The one who screams."
The party stiffened. Fear spiked in the air, sharp and sour.
Haruki didn't flinch. He met Rico's gaze, his face a mask of calm. He reached into his jacket.
"She didn't make it," Haruki said, his voice flat.
He pulled his hand out.
Dangling from his grip was a severed arm.
It was clothed in the shredded sleeve of a guild uniform. The hand was still clutching a piece of cloth—a marker of rank. Blood dripped steadily from the jagged, torn shoulder joint, splattering onto the dungeon floor.
The party froze. Their hearts stopped.
*It was Wick's spare arm.*
Haruki had taken it from the pack. He had torn the sleeve, soaked it in the blood Maren had drawn from her hand, and used the "Stone of Disguise" to alter the mana signature of the limb to match hers perfectly.
But to Rico, and to the horrified party who didn't know the truth, it looked like a butcher's work.
"She tried to run," Haruki lied, his voice devoid of emotion. "I stopped her. She was... a liability."
Sable gasped, a sound of pure horror. Fen looked like he was about to be sick.
Rico stared at the arm. He tilted his head.
"She tried to run," Rico repeated. "And you... caught her?"
"I am efficient," Haruki said. "And I do not like loose ends."
Rico blinked. Then, he smiled. It was a smile of genuine, twisted delight.
"Fascinating," Rico whispered. "You killed your own leader. You are pragmatic. Cruel. Efficient." He laughed, a light, bell-like sound. "Well, I suppose less is better. One less insect to step on."
He gestured lazily with his hand.
"Come then. Interesting Human. You will definitely have to meet Dad. He collects unique things. You will fit right in."
He turned, expecting Haruki to follow.
"No," Haruki said.
Rico stopped. He looked over his shoulder. "No?"
Haruki dropped the arm. He stepped forward, placing himself between Rico and the group.
"I said no," Haruki said. He looked Rico dead in the eyes. "I am not going anywhere with you."
The dungeon trembled. The walls groaned under Rico's rising irritation.
"You think you have a choice?" Rico asked, his voice dropping an octave. "I am offering you life. I am offering you a seat at the table of gods. Don't be stupid."
"I'm not being stupid," Haruki said. He took a deep breath, holding it in his chest. "I'm being final."
He exhaled slowly.
"You will never make anyone your amusement," Haruki said. "Not me. Not them."
From his pocket, Haruki pulled out a small, crude object. It was a bundle of wrapped leather, tightened with sinew, bulging with unstable energy.
It was the bomb he had crafted. The gunpowder from the Grey, mixed with the volatile shards of the lower-grade power stones he had crushed earlier. He had kept it for an emergency. This was the emergency.
Fen's eyes widened. "Haruki... what is that?"
Haruki didn't look back. He kept his eyes on Rico.
"You all run," he said, his voice calm. "Run for it. I'll go away."
"Haruki, no!" Sable screamed. "Don't do it!"
"RUN!" Haruki roared.
He raised his left hand—the hand that held the SSS+ skill, the hand that was currently holding the bomb.
He channeled the smallest fraction of *Cataclysm Touch*. A spark. A single, intensely hot spark of Primordial Fire.
He touched the spark to the fuse.
The bomb hissed.
Rico's eyes widened. For the first time, he saw the energy signature—not of a tool, but of a catastrophic event.
"You—" Rico started.
"GO!" Haruki shouted.
Fen, Sable, and Wick didn't want to. But their legs moved on instinct, fueled by the terror of the hissing death in Haruki's hand. They scrambled past him, shoving each other toward the back exit of the tunnel.
Haruki stood alone. The bomb ticking in his hand.
"Goodbye," he whispered.
Maren ran.
She was gasping, stumbling, her vision blurring with tears and pain. Her left arm ended in a bandage made of broad leaves and smeared with slime shade to stop the bleeding. The wound throbbed, a hot, dull ache that radiated up to her shoulder.
She had done it. She had cut off her own hand.
The Stone of Disguise was clutched in her remaining hand, pressing into her palm until it drew blood. It pulsed, a cold, steady heartbeat against her skin.
She reached the door. The ancient, stone archway that led to the upper floors.
She looked back, into the darkness of the fifth floor.
"I will get us out of here," she sobbed, her voice breaking. "I promise. I will come back. I will bring an army. I will—"
She choked on her words.
She turned and pushed through the door. The heavy stone slab groaned and sealed behind her.
She was out.
Rico took a step forward, his hand raised. "Stop."
Haruki smiled. A tired, sad smile.
"I win," Haruki said.
He prepared to detonate the bomb.
But before he could—before the spark could reach the charge—the dungeon itself reacted.
The red lines on Haruki's left hand flared violently. The SSS+ skill, *Cataclysm Touch*, was not a passive ability. It was a defensive mechanism of the highest order.
And it recognized a threat.
The bomb in Haruki's hand didn't explode.
*It dissolved.*
The Primordial Fire in Haruki's hand absorbed the gunpowder. It ate the energy. It swallowed the explosion.
Haruki blinked.
The bomb was gone. His hand was glowing a blinding, terrifying red.
Rico stopped. He stared at Haruki's hand.
"Oh," Rico breathed.
The explosion Haruki had intended to kill himself with was now trapped inside his own body. The energy surged up his arm, into his shoulder, into his heart.
Haruki fell to his knees.
He didn't die.
But the world went white.
And deep inside his mind, in the Archive where Sol and Rax were processing, a wall broke.
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