The restful silence of the 35th floor seemed to wrap itself around Michael and Valencia as they stood side by side, gazing down at the shadowed staircase descending to the next level of the dungeon. After the moments they'd shared here, this floor now felt like a sanctuary—a rare reprieve from the endless battles and bloodshed below. Yet, despite the peace, they both knew their journey wasn't over. Not yet.
Valencia leaned close to him, her hand sliding into his. "Are you ready, Michael?" Her voice was calm but laced with an undertone of hunger that never fully vanished, a reminder of the beast within her.
Michael met her crimson eyes, warmth flickering in his gaze. "Always." His hand tightened around hers, and with one last look at the calm around them, they turned toward the stairs, steeling themselves for what lay below.
The familiar chill of the dungeon seeped back into their bones as they began their descent. The transition from calm to the weighty, oppressive air of the dungeon floors below was almost palpable, as if the dungeon itself resented their moment of respite and was eager to throw them back into its maw.
They stepped onto Floor 36, the dim, ever-present glow of the dungeon casting eerie shadows along rough stone walls. Faint echoes of distant growls and shifting stone drifted through the air, a reminder that whatever waited here would not go down without a fight.
Valencia's senses sharpened immediately, her pupils dilating as she sniffed the air, lips curling into a smirk. "It smells like blood down here. Fresh." She practically purred, her bloodlust stirring in response to the familiar scent.
Michael gave her a sidelong look, knowing that her restraint was only temporary—just another reason to keep pushing forward. "Let's take this floor quickly. The sooner we're through it, the better."
They advanced carefully, Michael keeping his coilgun at the ready, its barrel polished and glinting faintly in the dim light. He'd noticed something strange in the way the weapon had acted on the last floor—a tremor, or was it… jealousy? He dismissed the thought, but a fleeting image of the purple eye reappearing on the coilgun haunted him for a moment.
Ahead of them, a figure stepped into view, blocking their path. It was a hulking creature, towering nearly ten feet tall, with flesh that appeared mottled and decayed, like it had been pieced together from different corpses. Its eyes glowed a sickly yellow, and its hands were tipped with elongated claws, each one dripping with a black substance that sizzled as it hit the ground.
Michael grimaced. "Looks like the welcoming party."
Valencia's smile widened. "Shall we dance?"
The monster snarled, a guttural noise that echoed through the stone halls, and lunged toward them with surprising speed. Michael raised his coilgun, energy thrumming to life as he steadied his grip. The coilgun's presence felt different somehow, as if it were eager—almost anxious—to be unleashed.
With a sharp crack, the first metallic projectile launched, piercing the creature's shoulder with a burst of sparks. The monster reeled back, its wound steaming as dark ichor leaked from the entry point. Yet it didn't stop; instead, it let out a furious roar and charged once more, its claws flashing in the dim light.
Michael took to the air, his gray wings unfurling in a powerful sweep that lifted him above the creature's reach. He shot several rounds mid-flight, the coilgun's projectiles striking true, creating a series of sharp impacts along the creature's torso. Each shot drained a bit of the creature's vitality, feeding the coilgun as it pulsed with a strange, almost sentient energy.
Below, Valencia was a blur of movement. She dashed in low, avoiding the beast's sweeping claws and sinking her own fangs into its side. Her Blood Manipulation took over, tendrils of crimson seeping from her hands and wrapping around the creature like barbed vines, latching onto it with an unbreakable grip. She twisted her hands, and the blood vines pulsed, a wave of energy surging from her to weaken the monster further.
Michael's coilgun shivered in his grip, the eye reappearing for just a flicker of a second as it watched Valencia's movements, seemingly observing her with an eerie intensity. If Michael noticed, he didn't show it; his focus was locked on the fight.
The monster struggled, clawing at the blood tendrils, which only dug in deeper with every movement. Valencia's grin was feral as she tightened her hold, her eyes glinting with the thrill of dominance. "You're not going anywhere," she whispered, the air thick with her hunger.
Seeing his chance, Michael swooped down, lining up a direct shot at the creature's head. The coilgun thrummed with anticipation, its energy building as if it craved the kill. With a final squeeze of the trigger, he fired, the metallic projectile surging forward with a blinding flash of light. The projectile found its mark, penetrating the creature's skull with a resounding crack.
The beast let out one last agonized roar before crumpling to the ground, its decayed body disintegrating into a dark, smoky mist. Michael landed beside Valencia, breathing hard. His coilgun's barrel was still hot, faint wisps of steam rising from it as if it were savoring the energy it had drained.
Valencia licked a drop of blood from her finger, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Now that's what I call entertainment."
Michael chuckled, giving her a sidelong glance. "Enjoying yourself a little too much, aren't you?"
She stepped closer, pressing herself against him as her hand traced the edge of his jaw. "Only because you're here with me."
For a brief moment, the coilgun vibrated in his grip, a single purple eye flickering open to watch as Valencia tilted his face toward hers. She pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, her possessiveness evident in the way her fingers tangled in his hair.
They broke apart, both of them catching their breath, the strange tension between them dissipating for a moment. Michael shook off the strange sensation from the coilgun, focusing on the path ahead.
"Come on," he said, squeezing her hand. "Let's see what else this floor has in store."
Together, they continued down the shadowed corridor, prepared for whatever dangers awaited. Floor 36 stretched before them, ominous and silent, but as they walked side by side, their bond felt stronger than ever. With every step, Michael could sense Valencia's pulse quicken, her gaze fixed intently on him, as though the very blood in his veins was calling her name.
As they pressed forward, the coilgun remained quiet, its energy thrumming softly—watching, waiting.