The 36th floor was quieter than Michael and Valencia had expected. The corridors stretched ahead, their dark stone walls imposing and silent. The only sounds were their footsteps, each echoing off the barren floors, but even that seemed muffled as if the dungeon itself was holding its breath.
Michael glanced at Valencia, her crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. The ever-present weight of the dungeon's atmosphere seemed to weigh heavily on her as well.
"No ominous growls. No glowing eyes in the dark. It almost feels wrong, doesn't it?" Michael mused aloud, his hand instinctively resting on the coilgun's hilt at his side. The tendrils of the weapon shifted restlessly, responding to his unease.
Valencia's gaze flicked around, her sharp senses always on alert. Her black wings, now tinged with crimson veins, were half-extended behind her, like a shield ready to block any threat. Her tone was as calm and calculating as always. "If it's quiet, it's a trap." She paused for a beat before adding, "But if nothing shows up, I suppose it gives us more time to focus on... other things."
Michael swallowed, feeling the weight of her words. The slight edge in her voice was hard to ignore, though he didn't respond immediately, knowing the dangers of acknowledging her possessive tendencies. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the path ahead, trying to stay focused on the mission.
They walked in silence for a few moments, until the faint scrape of stone echoed ahead, followed by the unmistakable sound of movement. Michael's grip tightened on his coilgun as they approached the corner.
"Finally," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.
Around the corner, a small band of goblins had gathered in the dim light. They seemed to be scavenging, their eyes flicking nervously at the approaching duo. But the goblins were weak and easily frightened, and the moment they spotted Michael and Valencia, their eyes widened in panic.
"About time," Michael said, barely concealing his annoyance. He raised the coilgun to his shoulder, his fingers pulling the trigger with practiced ease.
The first goblin barely had time to draw its rusted dagger before a metallic projectile shot through its chest, tearing it in half. Another goblin turned to run but was impaled by another round, its body pinned against the stone wall. The remaining goblins didn't stand a chance.
"Not even worth the effort," Michael muttered, wiping a bit of blood from his face. He checked the coilgun, ensuring it was in good condition before slinging it over his shoulder.
Valencia, meanwhile, stepped forward, her blade dripping with dark blood. She wiped it off on the fallen goblins' clothes with a casual flick of her wrist. "Weaklings don't deserve our time," she said dismissively. "Let's move on."
Michael gave her a small nod. "Yeah, let's."
They continued deeper into the floor, navigating the labyrinth of stone passages until they came across a large, arched doorway. Inside, the glow of magical lights illuminated a spacious room—far too large for a typical dungeon corridor. The space was filled with shelves and chests, most of them covered in a layer of dust, but many of them still intact.
A treasure room.
Michael raised an eyebrow. "Well, this is unexpected."
Valencia smirked, her crimson gaze scanning the contents of the room with unfiltered interest. "I suppose the dungeon's trying to make up for the lack of challenge."
They both moved toward the treasure. The shelves were stacked with glowing crystals, ornate weapons, and strange artifacts that seemed out of place in a typical dungeon. Michael spotted a chest in the corner, its surface worn but still holding strong. He moved toward it, his curiosity piqued.
The chest opened with a satisfying creak. Inside were neatly arranged potions, each one glowing faintly with an ethereal light. Michael pulled one from the pile and held it up, inspecting the liquid inside. "High-grade mana potions," he said, his voice tinged with surprise. "These could really come in handy."
Valencia, however, wasn't paying attention to the potions. She was examining a rack of weapons nearby. Her fingers brushed over the hilts of several blades before her eyes settled on a silver rapier with intricate engravings running along its length. "This one's quite beautiful," she murmured, taking the weapon in hand. "But…" She turned to look at Michael, her smile almost playful. "None of these compare to your coilgun or my blade."
Michael gave a small chuckle, but his expression softened as he realized she was still watching him, the sharpness of her gaze never wavering. "You're right, of course," he said. "But we don't need to keep everything. This is just extra loot for the moment."
Valencia's eyes narrowed slightly, the possessive gleam in them growing. "We don't need to keep everything. But you, Michael… you're mine. I won't share you with anyone, especially not these trinkets."
Her words sent a subtle shiver through him. He knew exactly what she meant. It wasn't just the treasure she was talking about.
"Alright," Michael said, trying to keep his voice light despite the weight of her gaze. "I get it. Let's focus."
As they continued to sift through the various items in the room, Valencia's attention seemed to become more and more fixated on him. She moved closer with every passing second, her every action an attempt to stay as close to him as possible. Michael didn't mind—at least not at first—but her presence became suffocating.
After a moment of silence, Valencia reached for a small pendant resting atop a pile of gold coins. It was a simple thing—an enchanted charm with faint magical energies swirling around it. As she reached for it, Michael's hand moved to grab it at the same time. Their fingers brushed briefly before she snatched it up with a satisfied look.
"This one's mine," she said, tucking it into her pouch without further explanation.
Michael blinked, slightly taken aback, but said nothing. He was used to her behavior by now, though it didn't make it any less intense. Still, he couldn't help but smile slightly. "If it makes you happy, it's yours."
Valencia gave a small, satisfied hum, as if that was all the affirmation she needed.
They spent the next few minutes gathering supplies: high-quality healing potions, rare ores, and a torn map fragment that seemed to hint at hidden chambers deep in the dungeon. The rest of the time was spent in silence, both of them savoring the calm that came with the respite of the floor.
When they finally stepped out of the storeroom, Michael paused, glancing over his shoulder at the piles of supplies. "A treasure room with no traps or ambushes?" he asked, incredulous. "That's a first."
Valencia looked back as well, but her expression was unreadable. "Perhaps the dungeon is trying to lull us into complacency," she said quietly, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
Michael laughed, though the sound felt strained. "Or maybe it's just pitying those poor goblins."
Valencia's lips curled into a dark smile, and for a moment, there was something in her eyes that made Michael feel like prey. "Perhaps. But we are far more interesting than those weaklings."
A flicker of movement from the coilgun caught Michael's attention. He glanced at it, but the weapon remained still, almost as if it was watching them.
"Everything okay?" he asked, eyeing the tendrils that twitched ever so slightly.
The coilgun remained motionless, its long, metallic form cold and distant. Valencia noticed his gaze and snorted. "You're imagining things."
Michael wasn't so sure. The strange sensation in the air around the coilgun hadn't escaped him. But he said nothing, turning his attention back to their path ahead.
The pair continued deeper into the floor, dispatching a few more goblins with relative ease. But with each passing encounter, the same sense of unease lingered in the air. The dungeon was oddly quiet, and the weight of that silence pressed down on them more and more. Still, they pressed on, knowing that even in a rest floor, something could always happen.