As I sit to myself in the swirling portal once more, it comes to me how my whole life has been an uphill battle. While my parents argued incessantly, I was the one who took care of my sister, who could barely walk. When they finally separated, I was in high school. My sister went with my mother and I was supposed to go with my father. But my father rejected me, and I soon after found out it was because he realized I wasn’t actually his. My mother had an affair, and knew all along I wasn’t his son. She told me too, but only because I figured it out on my own. It was really a hard blow for me, finding out I wasn’t really wanted by either side. Even so, I managed to pull myself together and work three part-time jobs to help pay for college in the States as an international student. But of course... that didn’t last long, and I ended up dropping out. I moved to Japan, where I met my real father. Unfortunately, he didn’t want anything to do with me, either. So I booked a crummy old house in the suburbs with a view of the Tokyo skyline, and took a job as an illustrator for Chen. But that didn’t pay enough, so I was forced to look into other jobs to make do. Rejected at every point in my life, but I’m still here. I’m still alive, and stronger than I’ve ever been.

The heat is the first to hit us as the blueish fog again dissipates. Snow falls all around, all except for the long stretch that leads straight to a gaping mountain cavern. The craggy slope is scorched in fire, spurts of magma seeping out through the innumerable cracks in the stone. This sort of incomprehensible anomaly of frigid cold residing beside deadly hot seems to draw parallels with the nature of my will. That... or I’m just hella nervous and my mind is a jumble of confused emotions causing me to overthink every minute observation my brain makes towards my surroundings.

“Cyr,” says Nora, approaching me from the side.

“Ready to beat the shit outta our strongest opponent yet?” I reply.

“It’s just that... I’m worried,” she says. “When you used that power yesterday... your veins turned black and... and...”

“I’m still fine though. See? Anyways, it’ll be a bit before I can use that again. Until then, I’ll be sticking to the ones that won’t backfire like that.”

She nods and turns her attention to the mountain. “From what the Admiral said, this place used to be a dungeon until the dragon came and ate the beast guarding the treasure. It is also a tomb to a long forgotten important figure from before this kingdom existed.”

“Dungeons, kings, dragons— If I weren’t here I’d say you were screwing with me,” I sigh. “Actually, I’d say that about anything that’s happened to me so far. Hey, tell me about the dungeons.”

“Is it not common knowledge? Cyr, I thought I’d told you about it multiple times,” she huffs. “Of course, it’s in your nature not to listen. But that trait is troublesome for everyone involved.”

“Just gotta hear it a couple of times before my mind realizes it’s real,” I reply. “My home has a certain definition for ‘dungeon’— but I wouldn’t say they’re the same. At least... the real ones.”

Nora sighs. “A dungeon is a structure created naturally through the flow of mana through solid objects. What I know is that there are many rooms, corridors, and caverns filled with beasts, traps, and treasure— not in any particular order. Their purpose is unclear, but adventurers have been drawn to them for centuries for the thrill and promise of riches.”

“And you learned all that... where?”

“I had overheard an adventurer speaking of it at the tavern and I asked them about it. Maybe... four years ago?”

“So... your first childhood, th—“

“Shh—!” she hisses, covering my mouth with her hand. “That is a secret—!”

“M-Mff—“

She removes her hand.

“R-Right. Sorry,” I mutter. “Won’t let it slip again. Promise.”

“Fair enough. So— are you caught up yet?”

“Close enough. My legs are sore, I’m sweating bullets— Sounds like it’s time to raise hell in a dungeon.”

Lasphalia, Nora and I are the first to enter the grand cavern. The heat only grows stronger the further in we go, and I realize it’s because there are multiple natural vents coming up from the floor, and all that hot air is being forced out of the limited space. It’s getting hard to breathe, honestly. I feel like I’m inhaling ash. Even so, I press on with an outstretched arm guarding my face and sturdy yet worn boots keeping my feet from igniting.

“There is a door up ahead,” says Lasphalia.

“That must be where the dungeon starts,” Nora replies. “Gods, my ears are getting singed. If it gets any hotter, I may just— N-Never mind, I won’t do that. Come, Cyr. Let’s open the door together.”

“If you believe the heat seems terrible, fear not for supposedly the interior is slightly cooler,” says Lasphalia.

“Wh-Why do you seem so unaffected?!” Nora complains. “You are in full uniform and you haven’t broken a sweat!”

“The disciplined do not bend to heat until their very flesh is burned away from their bones,” she says.

“She’s bullshitting, Nora. She’s got resistance spells on the soles of her feet,” I say.

“How spineless, trying to act so impervious in his presence,” Nora huffs. “Not even worth sweating over. There’s no possible way she could woo someone like Cyr.”

“Wanna run that one by me again...?” I mutter.

“Nothing. You are imagining things.”

“Pretty sure you’re stressing over the wrong thing here,” I say.

We arrive at the towering gray door. It’s made entirely out of stone and shows an elegant chiseled mosaic image of a basilisk-like creature with many appendages sprouting up from the ground with six different colored gems in each hand. I press my palm against its surface only to find it somewhat cool to the touch. It’s a revitalizing feeling, like the heat that’d been filling my throat and lungs is now being ushered away by it.

“Six stones...” Lasphalia ponders. “I wonder what it could mean...”

“Six different aspects of a greater power,” Nora replies. “The village I was born in used that motif just as the humans and demi-humans do the gods.”

“...What kinda power?” I ask.

“I am unsure,” she replies. “As you know, I wasn’t able to grow up in my village as my parents had. I didn’t get to learn what it all meant.”

“Oh... yeah, right...”

“B-B-But I don’t mean for you to feel bad for me!” she sputters. “J-Just that... I can’t answer you.”

“It must be important, in any regard,” says Lasphalia. “Keep in mind the order and color of the gems. I have witnessed a good number of dungeons with riddles such as this.”

“Got it. Yellow, blue, orange, pink, red, black. I... won’t be able to remember that,” I sigh.

“I have it,” says Nora. “I am good with patterns.”

“Good. Now— Cyrus Avette, please push open the door,” says Lasphalia.

I put some weight against the door, and it budges just a little. I push harder, and it opens a little more. It doesn’t open all the way until I put all my weight into it, in which case the door swings cleanly open and I go tumbling forward into the first room of the dungeon.

“That’s... incredible!” Nora exclaims. She’s so awestruck that she doesn’t help me up and instead walks forward into the room.

The first room of the mountain peak dungeon is an inexplicable conglomeration of two extremes. A frost-coated stone bridge intersects an angry magma pool below which sends heat waves that are visible in the air. Strangely, however, I can see giant ice spires protruding from the lava. They seem in no way to be in threat of melting. Of course my mind goes straight into questioning the logic behind such obscenities of the chemical world.

“No use sitting in wait,” says Lasphalia. “Unlike other dungeons, the creature in question could be dwelling in any room it sees fit. If you are so intent on becoming a hero, Cyrus Avette, then it would be in your best interest to sever your far gaze.”

“Y-Yeah, n-no, I’m ready. One room at a time, right?” I mutter.

“Indeed.” She starts off and I jog to catch up with her. Nora remains awkwardly close to me the whole way.

“So, Lasphalia— I can’t help wondering something,” I mutter. “Are you really after the reward? Why’re you here?”

“Everyone is,” she replies. “I do not particularly take enjoyment from working under the Admiral and the ignorant Vice.”

“Everyone’s just here with the promise of never having to work again, huh...?” I mutter.

“Not quite,” she says. “Official heroes are granted special access to quests too dangerous for the Adventurers Guild. But most simply refuse, as doing so would go against their new pompous lifestyles.”

“Chaos-Level Quests,” says Nora. “One was issued in my village... when I was a child.”

“Your first or second childhood?” says Lasphalia.

“S-Stop saying it so plainly!” Nora exclaims. She turns away, but her expression changes moments later. She turns to me slowly and points a finger hesitantly ahead of us.

“What’s wrong, Nora?” I ask.

“That... thing. It’s back...” she mutters.

“Y-You mean that... entity of pure evil you were talking about three weeks ago...?” I sputter. “Wait... I... I think I can actually— Am I going crazy, or—?“

“No, the presence is there,” says Lasphalia. “I sense it too. More like... I can feel its malicious energy crawling on my skin.”

That’s about the only way to describe it, I suppose. It’s like little pulsing pinpricks all over my body, growing strongest towards the front. The way it sends information to my brain somehow allows me to figure out directly where it is. I take out Kenkui but don’t slice any of the cards just yet. I wait.

“It isn’t human,” says Nora. “But it isn’t a monster, either.”

I can’t sense anything more than this. I can’t tell what it is, or where it came from. Its essence feels like an amorphous blob of energy surrounding a cloudy figure. Nothing else is evident of it, other than the sheer pressure on our bodies it gives off.

“Show yourself, entity,” Lasphalia commands. A translucent ring with ancient runes appears on her wrist. “A fight is ill advised. However I will be your opponent if deemed necessary.”

“H-Hey Lasphalia— let’s please not go challenging the ball of literal pure evil,” I mutter under my breath.

The figure remains stationary for a good few moments. We can do nothing but stand deathly still as it hovers there in front of us, its invisible yet somehow tangible aura field blocking the way forward.

“Not yet,” comes a rigid voice, which strangely doesn’t seem to originate from the direction of the entity. I turn around to face the voice, but nothing is there. And when I look back forward, I realize the entity is no longer here. Not a trace of it is left.

“Just like before,” says Nora, crossing her arms. “It can’t simply be a coincidence that we have seen it three times already.”

“Yeah,” I nod hesitantly. “Would it affect the mission if I said I think it’s been following us?”

“...Stay the course,” Lasphalia replies. “It could be a trick. Dungeons have the potential to present apparitions which are able to convey certain aspects of magic.So no, the mission remains unchanged.”

“And you’re just gonna dismiss the fact that Nora’s seen it twice before already?” I say.

“Did you see it yourself?”

“Well... no, but—“

“There is no need to heed the words of a girl playing adult in a woman’s body. I work with what I can see, not with what others describe. If I had, then the alleycats and owls in the night would be horrid monsters rasping at the windows of children.”

“Look— it doesn’t matter if you believe her before. This’s now, and we all felt it this time,” I say. “I don’t know what it is, but I know for damn sure we shouldn’t go taking it lightly.”

“Cyr... You believe me, don’t you...?” mutters Nora.

“For better or for worse, I do believe you,” I reply. “But shit, that’s one helluva stalker we’ve got, no matter how you look at it.”

It’s been an hour since we first entered the dungeon. We’ve passed through a handful of rooms in that time, but have yet to experience an encounter of any kind. All the traps set have already been sprung, with the occasional withered skeleton marking where a poor explorer perished a few centuries ago. There are signs everywhere that monsters have existed here at one point, what with all the claw and teeth marks, but nothing to say that any are here still. Lasphalia had mentioned that this dungeon had to have been a difficulty far greater than the wyverns we faced, so whatever it is we’re hunting is a serious threat. Of course I’ve got my trump card, but I’d better save that for when we’re otherwise screwed. It’s a culmination of my three weeks of intense training, something so strong that... honestly, I probably wouldn’t survive using. Yes, I fucked up again and merged one too many cards. I’ll admit that. But I’ve also got some special new ones that do indeed work, and are pretty harmless to my body. I’m just itching to finally get my hands on a real baddie again.

Nora looks up, and points. I turn my head in that direction.

“There is movement up ahead,” she says. “It’s human, I can hear them talking.”

“H-How’s that...?” I mutter. “I-I thought we were the first ones through.”

“I recognize that voice,” Nora continues, leaning an ear towards the passage beyond. “Confusing... They are confused, but I can’t— Oh, a door? They said something about a door.”

“Door? Who the hell cares what they’re talking about, I want to know who the hell they are!” I hiss.

“Don’t talk angry at me,” she murmurs. “The echoes of the cavern make it hard to understand sometimes.”

“Well then let’s just go and see for ourselves,” I say. “We should keep a low profile here, though. We’ve got no clue who the hell’s over there.”

As we approach, I finally start to hear the voices as well. It’s a man’s voice alongside a young woman’s. Then as we finally make it into the next room I can see who it is. Standing before a giant door seemingly made of carved obsidian, beside a flowing stream of lava on red brick stands the Vice-Admiral Pierce and adorable magic wielder Lilith.

“Damn, you two’re pretty fast,” I say, startling them both. Pierce quickly draws his sword before finally recognizing me. He grunts and embeds his crazy-looking weapon in the ground.

“A pity I had the misfortune of meeting you weaklings here before I landed the final blow and proved myself superior once and for all.”

Lilith turns to him and puffs her cheeks. “Pierce—! Be nice!” she exclaims.

“And what is the useless job-hopper doing here, as well?” he jeers, ignoring Lilith. “What can you do? I hope you aren’t here because you think you can actually collect the bounty yourself, do you?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” I say. “You’re obviously too shallow to be worth talking to, but let me just remind you of one thing. Don’t act like you know where the fuck anyone’s come from, what they had to do to make it this far.”

“How noble a talk for one whose only power isn’t even his own,” he snarls. “I will slay the dragon, but first— I will ensure you never again be a nuisance to me.“

“A fight? Fine, have it your way,” I say.

“Not a fight. It will be a massac—“

Lilith spins around and suddenly slaps Pierce across the face. It’s certainly an unexpected move, one that startles us all. I mean, she didn’t hesitate in the slightest.

“Pierce! No more fighting!” she shouts.

“Lilith. Expl—“

“I... I hate it—!” she shouts, clenching her fists in the frills of her pink dress. “Why? Why did you have to change...? Ever since you became the Vice-Admiral... Well I want the old Pierce back! I want MY Pierce back!”

It’s here that I see just a glimpse of their true emotions, of their own stories that I’d never known. Their struggles, their feelings, for this moment alone seem to be hung in the air around them. And I begin to understand what’s brought them to be this way.

“We should wait here for everybody else,” I say. “Let’s set up camp. Worry about who finishes it off later.”

“...I won’t take orders from you,” glowers Pierce.

“Who the hell said it was an order?” I reply.

His face seems to soften up a bit, and he turns around. He grabs his sword and returns it to his back. Lilith slowly approaches him. He looks to her and puts a hand on her shoulder for just a second. He then moves on to lean against a pillar closest to the giant doors. Lilith nods to him, then turns and walks up to us.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” she says, smiling. “My name is Lilith. Lady Lilith Lysandersen, of the Lysandersen-Lundvega family. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She does a quaint curtsy.

Hm. I never knew her full name. But seriously— what’s with the long surnames in this world...?

“Of course. You are the Vice-Admiral’s companion, yes?” says Lasphalia.

She nods twice. “Pierce and I have been traveling together for many years. Oh— but I do apologize for his rude behavior before. You see, he has—“

“Shut it, Lilith,” Pierce grumbles from the side.

Lilith giggles. “Anyways, I am so glad you all showed up when you did. You see— the door to the final room... is completely engulfed in a powerful spell!”

“A spell? What form?” asks Lasphalia.

“I think it is a blocking spell,” she replies. “I can’t break it, so we really have no choice but to wait for someone more skilled to arrive.”

“Really?” I sigh. “Man, that sucks.”

“Well, miss Lysandersen—“ says Lasphalia. “I say let the two of us conduct a more formal study on this door. Cyrus Avette, please sharpen your blades and rest your bodies for the upcoming quarrel.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I wave. “Hey Nora, lemme take a look at that knife the creepy guy gave you.”

We spend the next few moments in idle silence.

I’d say probably ten minutes later the first of the spatial magic users arrive in the end of the dungeon. Not long after that, Admiral Leufgarde-Rosencrantz makes it as well. He approaches us with a somewhat disgruntled expression as he tries to hide the limp that he obviously still has.

“I would have thought those like yourselves would have already gone forward into the next room,” he grumbles, scanning the thin crowd.

“Apparently the door uses some sort of sealing magic, based on what the Vice-Admiral’s companion had discerned, and what I later confirmed for myself,” replies Lasphalia. “Spatial magic will not work here.”

“Something’s been bugging me about that, now that you mention it,” I say. “So this place was a tomb before being found by the mana, right? And that shady guy who tried to kill Nora just happened to have magic that jams spatial magic, right?”

“Of course!” says Nora. “He mentioned the one named Velaruux, which he called an ‘eternal king.’ Calling someone an eternal king usually means they are already dead or undead. Could this be the tomb of Velaruux?”

“I have no information on one named Velaruux, however it does certainly sound ancient,” says Lasphalia. “I am a historian, so this question is simple. The name suggests it may have used glyphs from the Ruushiix period, making it over seven thousand years old.”

“You’ve got too many professions,” I mutter.

“The Ruushiix period saw a flourish in magical development, using techniques which would be considered advanced even in our understanding,” she continues. “This dungeon was created by the flow of mana no earlier than five thousand years ago. Unfortunately there is no way to be sure of when the tomb itself was built. But the spell used on this door could very well confirm its placement in history.”

“The history of it is irrelevant. Have you attempted to reverse the spell yet?” says the Admiral.

“Unfortunately, it does not seem to respond to even anti-magic crystals,” she replies. “Though looking at the flow of mana through the stone, I believe it is meant to be opened.”

“The flow, huh...” I mutter. “Wait... So this spell... is locking the door through some sort of flowing magic?”

“There are gaps in the lattice-like structure, however,” she nods.

Alright. So basically what I’ve learned about magic is that there are just about as many types as there are people in the world. But one thing constant is that it flows exactly like my world’s electricity, and that’s how simple magic spells are created. The body or tool like staffs or blades act as the motor or lightbulb would. That makes me wonder exactly what would happen if I...

“Hey, Lasphalia,” I mutter. “Can the flow be directly interfered with from the outside?”

“I suppose so,” she replies. “However it matters very little. The spell is written to reform upon contact.”

“Sure sure, but say we were to... bridge certain severed connections?” I say.

“I am not sure I follow,” she mutters. “Please explain.”

“How about I just show you?” I say.

The Admiral steps off as Nora, Lasphalia and I approach the engraved door. There is a faint buzzing in the air, almost like static running through my hair.

“Show me the places that have gaps,” I say.

“They mostly run along the bottom, near chest level,” she says, pointing. “Here is one. It is not much larger than my fist, see. There are five others going along the passage.”

“Huh... Alright, well... let me think...”

“Cyr—!” exclaims Nora. “Look over there!”

I turn to where she points, and notice several colored crystalline spheres embedded into the side wall. They are fairly small, super easy to miss unless you know where you’re looking.

“There’s six,” I say. “The colors match up with what’s on the entrance.”

“And there are six gaps along the door!” she chimes. “Um... let’s see... It was... red, blue, yellow... No, yellow, blue, black—“

“Yellow, blue, orange, pink, red, black. Though one was violet, in reality. Not pink like Avette had said,” says Lasphalia. “Girl, bring the stones.”

She picks each of the stones in cupped hands and brings them over to us. I look up to the door, but don’t see anywhere to set them. In games there’s usually some sort of slit that perfectly mirrors the shape of the necessary item used to open a door like this. But despite the intricate carvings, there’s no actual place any of them can fit.

“This... doesn’t help much,” I mutter. I pick one of the stones from Nora’s hand, bringing it to where Lasphalia had said one of the gaps exist. When nothing happens, I remove the stone and annoyedly begin to pick at the area with a finger.

“Hold, Cyrus Avette,” says Lasphalia.

“Goddammit, just call me Cyr already!” I huff.

She steps forward and suddenly takes my free hand, surprising the shit outta me. I feel my cheeks grow red.

“Place a finger here, another here, here, and here,” she says, directing my hand along the face of the stone door. I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed this’s all it’s led to, but also slightly turned on for some reason. Then again, I haven’t really held a woman’s hand before. I think anything more than that might be too much to handle, pathetic as it may sound. She lets go.

“A-Alright, was there any reason for that, or—“ I mutter, but falter mid-sentence as the stone in my other hand begins to glow.

“Oh! H-Here, Cyr. Hold this one,” says Nora, exchanging stones with me. It’s the yellow stone, which seems to glow brighter than the other when placed in my hand.

“We need three more pairs of hands,” says Lasphalia. She turns to where all the mages and miscellaneous adventurers seem to be congregating. She takes a deep breath. “Attention, you insufferable boors and high-strung egotists! Three heads report up front now!”

“Ooh—! We can help!” says a cheery voice. From off to the side comes Lilith with Pierce reluctantly in tow. Pierce seems to be lamenting over something, and I’m afraid to ponder what it might be.

“Alright— Just ignoring the fact they were called boors and egotists, I guess,” mutters Nora.

“Take a stone each,” says Lasphalia. Nora approaches Lilith and Pierce and hands them the blue and orange stones respectively. Lasphalia directs them to two more places along the door before taking her place with the violet stone.

“I suppose I should best step in as well,” comes a final voice. The Admiral approaches. “Seeing the flow of mana is a special trait. That said, I have it as well. The Nexis girl can take the red stone. I will take the final.”

“Paying attention for once, sir?” Lasphalia says with what I can’t quite confirm to be sarcasm. “I am well aware of your tendency to silently ogle at the sight of any weapon in your vicinity, thereby neglecting whatever your duties required of you.”

Huh. Guess it wasn’t sarcasm.

“Enough out of you, Miss Astellaria,” he grumbles. He takes his place along the door as well.

Suddenly the crystals in each of our hands burst with light. I can feel a growing heat in my palm as the mana flows through me and into the stone. It’s pleasant at first.

“I have seen this locking mechanism many-a-time,” says the Admiral. “Perhaps not with such a spell, but clearly it works the s—“

My arms involuntarily begin to curl towards my body, and I immediately fight it with all my strength. The warm sensation quickly evolves into a prickly sensation, then hot, and all of the sudden my hand feels like it’s burst into flames. The air around us quickly begins to pound with a swell of mana, beating on my chest like a second heartbeat. My hair stands on-end, my eyes twitch outside of my volition, and the stone is still growing hotter.

“End it! End it!” I hear someone say, but my brain refuses to draw parallels to any one person. “It’s a trap! Let them go! Let them—“

It suddenly feels like I’ve been hit by a truck from the front, an extensive propagating force pushing me backwards at an alarming rate. And then everything goes black. Not like an unconscious sort of black, but just... black.