The world changed the moment Seth stepped through the portal.
The bluish light of the vortex was replaced by oppressive darkness, damp and heavy. The air inside the dungeon was thick with raw mana particles, vibrating like a living presence. The ground beneath his feet was rocky and uneven, with occasional crackles of dry gravel breaking the silence.
A cave.
Not one of those natural formations open to magical tourism—it was narrow, suffocating, alive. Small emerald drops dripped from the ceiling, emitting a phosphorescent glow that didn't really illuminate, but only accentuated the shadows. Dense fungi grew in the cracks between the rocks, and there was something in the air that smelled like aged blood and rusted iron.
Seth paused for a second, letting his senses take it all in.
The mana here was dense, disordered — corrupted.
"Unbalanced convergence..." he muttered to himself, his tone calm and calculated, as his eyes scanned the space.
Behind him, the other members of the group began to emerge from the portal. Gregory was the first to take a firm stance, already scanning the area with a portable detector.
"Standard reading for a C-level dungeon... but the mana instability is at the limit of protocol," he muttered. "This place could collapse if something big is summoned inside."
Eliza was the third to pass through the portal. As she stepped onto the damp rock, she felt a chill run down her spine. The smell of the cave, the stifling heat, the vibration on her skin—it was as if something was whispering inside her. Something ancient. Something wrong.
"This feeling..." she said in a low voice. "It's as if the Dungeon is watching us."
Tasha, the scout, already had her eyes closed, breathing deeply. She bent down and touched the ground. After a few seconds, she stood up.
"There are three passages. The one in the middle looks more used — drag marks, footprints. The one on the left stinks of dead mana. The one on the right..." — she frowned — "has wind. But not natural wind. Something is moving there."
Orion just grunted, adjusting the sword on his back. He seemed too calm, as if bored. The prisoners finally appeared, with magical handcuffs glowing faintly blue. Doyle remained oblivious to everything. Marcus laughed softly, still mocking.
"Is this what they call a dungeon? It looks like a moldy sauna," he scoffed, spitting on the floor.
It was at that moment that Seth moved.
Silent. Accurate. Like a blade drawn without warning.
He walked past the group, knelt down, and picked up a small handful of dark earth from the cave. He squeezed his fingers, feeling the moisture and texture.
"This cave... is not natural," he said in a low voice, but the tone was cold enough to silence Marcus instantly.
Eliza watched him more closely now. There was something in the way he spoke—as if he could hear the Dungeon, as if he were deciphering the language of the place itself.
Gregory snorted. "Great, now we have the philosopher scout. Wonderful. Let's move. Estimated mission objective: neutralize the core and collect data on irregularities."
He pointed to Tasha. "You go first. Valeska, right flank. Roth, active support. Prisoners... try not to die. Chambers, stay out of the way."
The progression through the cave was... silent. Too silent.
The group's footsteps echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the constant, rhythmic dripping of moisture from the ceiling. With every meter, the temperature seemed to drop slightly, but the feeling of suffocation increased. There was no sign of creatures—no whispering, growling, breathing, or rustling of wings in the shadows.
That silence was not absence.
It was waiting.
Tasha walked ahead, eyes alert, daggers at the ready. Her footsteps were light, almost inaudible. From time to time, she would stop, analyze marks on the ground, touch the wall, sniff the air—and then continue on. Even she, experienced as she was, began to frown.
"No ambush. No creatures. No sign of life beyond mana... This is wrong," she muttered.
Orion followed behind, protecting the flank, his eyes heavy as stones. Marcus and Elias walked in the center, flanked by Doyle, who barely looked where he was going. Seth came further behind, his steps calm, his head held high. He didn't seem to be observing the dungeon. He seemed to be listening to it.
Eliza had already activated three magical perception seals, and even so... nothing. No red dots, no signs of hostility. Mana floated around them like thick fog, but without direction. Without fury. Without hunger.
Gregory was irritated by the lack of opportunity to finish this job quickly.
"It's as if the dungeon has... been emptied," he commented. "Or as if everything has fled."
About twenty minutes later, the main corridor began to widen. The sound of their footsteps changed—from solid rock to something drier, more hollow. They had entered a larger chamber.
Much larger.
The group stopped immediately.
The room was circular and colossal, supported by stone columns covered in magical moss. On the ceiling, crystals floated lightly, spreading a pale green light that seemed to emanate from condensed mana itself. But what caught everyone's attention... were the tunnels.
At least fifty of them.
They emerged from the chamber like veins, like claws trying to stretch in all directions. They were open mouths, black, deep. No two were alike. Some had leaks. Others had dry air. There were tunnels as narrow as burrows and tunnels wide enough to hold a dragon. But the worst part was...
They all seemed to be breathing.
Eliza felt her skin crawl as she noticed the flow of air coming in and out of some tunnels, as if the entire cave had lungs.
"This... shouldn't be here," she said in a low voice. "Unstable convergence dungeons don't generate multiple exits like this. The core is always central. This is a maze."
Gregory looked around, perplexed.
"Or it's a trap," he added, already preparing for a possible split in the group.
"The problem is that this is probably not a dungeon, you idiots... this is a Ruin of Pandora... that's why it has all this... I don't know what the hell," Seth thought, looking around.
"Seth, be careful with the tunnels..." Bastet whispered in his mind...
It was then that Seth spoke—for the first time since they entered.
"Don't go into the tunnels."
His voice cut through the silence like a knife.
Everyone looked at him.
"Not yet," he continued, walking to the center of the chamber, as if completely ignoring protocol.
"Are you crazy?" Gregory stepped forward. "You're not leading this, Chambers."
Seth knelt in the center of the room. He touched the floor with his palm.
He closed his eyes.
And for a moment... something seemed to respond.
A vibration ran through the rocks. A muffled sound—like a moan muffled by layers of stone. The crystal lights flickered for a second.
Tasha instinctively stepped back. Orion placed his hand on his sword.
"There's something underneath," Seth said, opening his eyes. "Something that's listening."
Gregory was about to send everyone into the tunnels, until Eliza interrupted him with a firm gesture.
"No. Wait. He's right." She activated a larger seal, channeling the magic variation sensor with a floating grimoire at her side. Her eyes glowed amber.
And then she saw it.
"Oh... shit. This isn't a distribution chamber." She looked at Gregory, her face pale. "These tunnels... are extensions of the core. The Dungeon has no fixed center."
Silence. "It's alive."
Seth looked up at the ceiling. The crystals flickered as if they were... watching.
He stood up. "And it's waiting for us to choose the wrong path."