Akira's heart shuddered as Eri's words settled into his chest like a stone, each syllable carving deeper into his resolve. The air between them grew heavy, charged with the weight of what she had just revealed.
"What's the problem now?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with a tension that threatened to crack. His hands, resting on the table, trembled faintly, betraying the calm he fought to maintain.
Eri exhaled slowly, her hands clasped tightly on the table between them, her knuckles pale against the worn wood.
"The dungeon this material comes from... it isn't like any of the others," she began, her voice low and measured, each word deliberate. "No one has ever escaped. It's too unpredictable to even rank because the mana it emits... it warps time itself. One moment, it's stable; the next, it's a storm. It's not a dungeon—it's a void. A living, breathing abyss. They call it The Maw."
Akira's fists clenched, his knuckles whitening as his jaw locked. His mind raced, torn between the hope this dungeon represented and the dread of what it might cost. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. "Damn it," he muttered, "Is this opportunity going to slip away from us?"
Eri's gaze met his, steady but unyielding. Her eyes, usually so confident, now carried a shadow of doubt.
"It's the best lead we have... but it's not something we can handle lightly. This is a different class of dungeon than anything my team has faced before. If we go in, we have to be prepared for the worst." She paused, her lips curving into a faint, almost apologetic smile. "Still, I owe your father a lot. And I can't pretend I haven't thought about entering it anyway."
Akira's chest tightened. He could see the conflict in her eyes—the pull of duty, the weight of her debt to his father, and something else he couldn't quite place. For a moment, a flicker of a smile crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He couldn't let her and the team face this alone. Not when this dungeon might hold the answers he had been searching for—the justice his family deserved.
His gaze hardened, resolve solidifying like steel. "If you decide to go, I need to come with you."
Eri's smile vanished, replaced by a look of such gravity that it felt like the room itself had grown colder. Her voice, when she spoke, was firm but not unkind. "Akira, you have no powers. Even a low-level dungeon is lethal for an awakened person. For anyone else, it means certain death."
He didn't flinch. His eyes burned with a determination that surprised even himself. "I know it's dangerous. But this is my family we're talking about. I've stood by your side, worked with you, given everything I could to this cause for a year. You're walking into the place that could hold the key to all of it, and I'm just supposed to wait behind?"
Eri studied him, her expression a mix of admiration and concern. She leaned back slightly, as if to put distance between herself and the weight of his words. "You really are a great kid, Akira. Brave, too. I won't deny that." Her voice softened, but her eyes remained serious, almost pleading. "But this isn't just dangerous; it's lethal.
And you're the last person who should be there. If something happens to you... I couldn't live with that."
Akira didn't waver. His voice was steady, but there was a rawness to it, a vulnerability that cut through his resolve.
"I don't want special treatment, Eri. I want to stand with you. This isn't just about revenge. It's about my dad. My mom. So they can finally rest in peace. And... so I can live with myself."
Eri's eyes flickered with something unspoken—guilt, maybe, or sorrow. She looked away for a moment, her fingers tracing the edge of the table as if searching for an answer in the grain of the wood. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, until she finally met his gaze again. Her voice was quiet but resolute, each word measured.
"Alright, Akira. If this is what you've decided, then we'll do everything in our power to keep you safe." She leaned in, her tone sharpening, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that brooked no argument.
"But promise me you'll stay close and follow our lead. No risks. Understood?"
Relief washed over him, softening the edges of his resolve, but the fire in his eyes remained. He nodded, his voice steady but carrying the weight of a vow.
"Thank you, Eri. I won't let you down."
Eri's expression softened, but the worry never left her eyes. She reached across the table, placing a hand over his. Her touch was firm, grounding. "You never have, Akira. But this... this is different. Promise me you'll remember that."
He nodded again, his throat tight with unspoken emotions. "I promise."
Four days later
The team decided to enter the dungeon after some talking and the day of the raid had arrived. The air was thick with anticipation, each breath heavier than the last. Akira stood at the edge of the dungeon's entrance, his equipment strapped tightly to his body. The weight of it was both comforting and foreign, a reminder of the danger that lay ahead. His hands shook slightly, but he steadied them, clenching his fists until his nails dug into his palms. The dungeon portal before him was a death sentence waiting to be carried out, and yet… it was the only lead he had.
Eri's footsteps broke the silence. She stopped beside him, her face tight with concern. Her eyes, always so steady, flickered with something Akira hadn't seen before—fear, perhaps, or guilt. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm but not unkind.
"You sure you're ready for this, Akira?" she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper. "It's gonna be bad. Worse than you think."
Akira turned to her, locking eyes with her. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat of dread and determination.
"I'm terrified," he admitted, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "This is the first dungeon I've ever entered, and it's one of the deadliest. But I can't back down. Not now. Not after everything I've been through, everything I've lost. I can't let fear hold me back any longer."
Eri's eyes softened, and for a moment, Akira saw the conflict in them—the pull of duty, the weight of her debt to his father, and something else he couldn't quite place. She squeezed his shoulder lightly, a tether to the present. "You're braver than you think, Akira," she said. "Just remember, we're a team. No one goes off alone. We watch each other's backs."
Akira nodded, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest.
The portal entrance of the dungeon before them, a massive dark portal that seemed to devour the earth itself. Darkness clung to it like a living thing, pulsing with an unnatural energy that made Akira's skin crawl. The air around it was heavy, oppressive, as if the very world recoiled from its presence. A sense of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach, but he fought it down. This wasn't the time for fear.
Standing before the entrance were two agents from the Korea STARS Association Unit, their faces cold and professional. They handed out papers, their voices low and distant, almost robotic.
"Entering this dungeon is considered an act of suicide," one of them said, his tone devoid of emotion. "If you accept these terms, you can proceed."
Akira hesitated for only a moment before taking the documents and pen. The cold metal of the pen against his fingers seemed to ground him in the reality of what he was about to do. He scrawled his name on the paper, the ink bleeding into the page like a promise—or a curse.
As the agents collected the signed papers, Akira couldn't help but notice how they seemed… off. Their movements were too precise, their eyes too empty. But he pushed the thought aside. Not now. Not when everything he had pursued was leading up to this.
They stepped inside the dungeon vanishing from the outside world the air inside the dungeon was stifling, thick with the weight of unknown power. Every breath felt labored, as if the very atmosphere was trying to crush them. Akira's body ached, just the air seemed designed to break him.
They moved forwad but after a while his exhaustion crept in, a relentless tide he couldn't hold back. Something about this place was wrong—unnatural.
They didn't exchange a single word as they continued walking as they ventured deeper, the oppressive silence was deafening, broken only by the echo of their footsteps and the occasional drip of water from the jagged ceiling above. The air grew heavier with each step, thick with the scent of damp earth and something metallic—like blood, though he saw none. The walls seemed to pulse faintly, as if alive, and the faint hum of mana in the air was erratic, shifting unpredictably.
What unsettled Akira the most, however, was the absence of monsters. Not a single creature had crossed their path. No traps, no ambushes, no signs of life—or unlife. Akira glanced at Eri and the others, but their faces were unreadable, their movements steady and eliberate. They didn't seem surprised by the eerie stillness, which only deepened his unease.
"Why haven't we seen any monsters?" Akira finally asked, his voice low but cutting through the silence like a blade. "This is supposed to be one of the deadliest dungeons, right? So where is everything?"
Eri didn't look at him, her eyes fixed ahead. "Not all dungeons are the same," she said, her tone measured. "Some are designed to lull you into a false sense of security. Others... they wait. They test you in ways you don't expect."
Akira frowned, her words doing little to ease his nerves. If anything, they made the tension worse. The absence of monsters wasn't comforting—it was ominous. It felt like the calm before the storm, and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of storm awaited them.
As they pressed on, the passage narrowed, the walls closing in until they were forced to walk single file. The air grew colder, and Akira's breath came out in visible puffs, his heart pounding in his ears. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see something—anything—but there was only darkness.
Finally, they reached the end of the passage, emerging into a vast chamber that seemed to stretch endlessly into the shadows. The ground was uneven, littered with jagged rocks and fissures that glowed faintly with a sickly green light. At the center of the chamber was a massive, gaping hole, its edges jagged and irregular, as if the ground had been torn apart by some unimaginable force. The hole seemed to descend into infinite darkness, and the air around it shimmered with an unnatural energy that made Akira's skin crawl.
He stepped forward, his boots crunching against the brittle ground, and peered into the abyss. His heart raced, panic clawing at the edges of his mind. "Where is the material?" he shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. "It should be here, according to the info, right? I don't see anything!"
His eyes swept the room again, but it was just a silent, cold cavern, devoid of life. Then he noticed Eri and her team standing to one side, their faces unreadable. As he drew closer, they unmasked, and what he saw turned his blood cold.
Mia's eyes gleamed with a wicked light, her smile sharp and mirthless—nothing like the friendly grin she had always worn. Entoa, the silent giant, cracked his knuckles, his face twisted with disdain. And Eri… the woman he had trusted, stepped forward, all pretense of compassion gone from her face. Her smile was a blade, cutting through the last remnants of his hope.
"What's going on?" Akira demanded, his voice shaking. "Why are you acting like this?"
Eri stepped forward, her eyes glowing with malice. "You were so willing to help, Akira," she said, her voice saccharine sweet.
"And I'm just so grateful for that."
The words hit him like a physical blow. His stomach twisted, a cold realization washing over him. This wasn't a mission. It was a trap. And he had walked right into it.
Eri leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper.
"You wanted the truth, Akira? Here it is the only thing waiting for you in the darkness is the end of your story."