The sun rose sluggishly over the jagged peaks of the Tower of the Abyss, casting pale, eerie light over the adventurers' camp. The sprawling landscape was a mix of harsh stone and sparse vegetation, as if the world itself struggled to breathe under the shadow of the Tower. Smoke curled lazily from the dying embers of last night's fire, but the atmosphere among the group was anything but calm.
Dorian Grinn sat perched on a boulder near the edge of the camp, his mismatched armor glinting in the early light. He spun a knife idly between his fingers, its blade catching the sun as if taunting the morning to get on with it. His crooked grin was firmly in place, as though the tension hanging in the air was little more than an opportunity to amuse himself.
"You all look so serious," he said, his voice carrying a singsong mockery that made Sarem visibly clench his fists. "What's wrong? Nervous this dungeon might finally be the one to swallow us whole? Or did someone eat the last ration bar without sharing again?"
No one laughed.
Renia, the leader of their group, turned her cold gaze on him. Her armor, pristine and polished, seemed to gleam brighter than the sun itself, a sharp contrast to Dorian's chaotic, slapped-together ensemble. "Dorian, if you're not going to help, at least have the decency to shut your mouth," she snapped.
Dorian held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. "Relax, fearless leader. Supplies are packed, potions are in place, egos are... oversized as usual." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh wait. That last one was just you."
Renia's lips tightened, but she didn't take the bait. Across from her, Sarem, the group's hulking swordsman, cracked his knuckles. "One day, Grinn," he said, his voice a low rumble, "you're gonna push it too far. And when you do, don't expect me to save your ass."
Dorian tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Save me? Oh, Sarem, that's adorable. You're still pretending you do anything useful. But don't worry, big guy—when that day comes, I'll make sure your valiant efforts are immortalized in the ballads."
Even Kaleus, the group's most timid member, let out a nervous chuckle at that. But the sound died quickly when Renia's sharp glare swung his way. Kaleus shrank into himself, muttering an apology that no one cared enough to acknowledge.
Elya, the group's mage, sat cross-legged a few feet away, sorting through her spell components with the kind of cold efficiency that seemed to define her entire existence. If the tension in the camp bothered her, she didn't show it. And then there was Thane, the healer, quiet as always, his face a blank slate as he checked their supply of potions. Dorian didn't bother trying to provoke him. Thane was the only one in the group who seemed utterly immune to his charm—or his mockery.
The group was an uneasy alliance, held together by necessity and the promise of glory. They were one of the most successful teams in their tier, and yet the cracks in their foundation were growing more apparent with each passing day. Dorian, of course, was at the center of it.
His skill, Endless Adaptation, was both his greatest strength and his greatest curse. The System, which governed all adventurers in Valnaris, rewarded parties that worked together, sharing experience gained in combat and exploration. But Dorian's skill disrupted that flow. A portion of the experience was always siphoned to him alone, feeding his body and mind in ways that weren't immediately apparent. He grew stronger in ways that couldn't be measured by levels or stats: faster reflexes, sharper instincts, a body that adapted to pain and fatigue faster than anyone else's.
The downside? The rest of the group leveled up more slowly. For a team driven by progress, this was a source of growing frustration—especially for Renia.
"Dorian." Her voice was sharp, cutting through his thoughts. "You're on scouting duty. Go ahead, check the path ahead for traps."
Dorian sighed theatrically and slid off his boulder, brushing nonexistent dust from his armor. "Scouting duty, huh? Always the glamorous jobs for me. Don't worry, I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone. Not that you'd notice, of course."
He ignored the way Sarem growled under his breath as he passed and offered a lazy salute to the group before heading toward the entrance of the dungeon. He moved with an easy confidence, the knife still twirling between his fingers, as if the prospect of venturing into an ancient, death-filled ruin was just another stroll in the park.
The Tower of the Abyss loomed ahead, its entrance a jagged maw of black stone that seemed to swallow the light. The air grew colder as Dorian approached, the silence pressing against his ears like a heavy weight. He paused at the threshold, tilting his head as he studied the faint runes etched into the stone. They pulsed faintly, their glow like the dying embers of a forgotten fire.
"Traps, traps, traps," he muttered, crouching down to examine the ground. His fingers brushed over a faintly raised tile, and he whistled softly. "Ah, there you are. Wouldn't want to step on you by accident, would we?"
With practiced precision, he disarmed the trigger, a small puff of magical energy dissipating harmlessly into the air. He straightened, his grin widening as he muttered to himself. "Honestly, this place needs better security. At least make me work for it."
Back at the camp, the rest of the group watched his retreating figure disappear into the shadows of the dungeon. Renia crossed her arms, her expression hard. "We're wasting our potential dragging him along," she said quietly. "You all know it."
Sarem nodded, his jaw tight. "He's a liability. That stupid skill of his is holding us back. If we didn't have to carry him—"
"We don't have to," Elya interrupted, her voice calm and cold. She didn't look up from the vial she was inspecting. "We can leave him behind."
Kaleus shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, he's annoying, sure, but... you're not serious, right? We wouldn't just..."
Renia's gaze hardened. "He's slowing us down, Kaleus. Do you want to stagnate forever? Because that's what will happen if we keep dragging him along."
Thane finally spoke, his voice low. "If we do this, we can't go back. You know that."
Renia's lips pressed into a thin line. "We won't need to."
Dorian returned to the camp a few minutes later, his grin as infuriating as ever. "Good news, everyone! Path's clear, traps are disarmed, and I only almost died once. You're welcome."
Renia gave him a curt nod, her expression unreadable. "Good. Let's move."
They ventured deeper into the dungeon, the air growing colder and heavier with each step. The walls seemed to close in around them, the faint glow of runes casting eerie shadows that danced and flickered like malevolent spirits.
Dorian walked at the back of the group, his grin never fading. He could feel the tension radiating from his companions, the way they avoided looking at him. It amused him more than it should have. "You know," he said casually, "if you all hate me so much, you could just say so. No need for the silent treatment."
No one responded.
The next room they entered was vast, its floor a mosaic of glowing tiles. Dorian's instincts flared instantly. "Hold up," he said, but Renia was already moving forward.
She stepped onto one of the tiles, and the room came alive with a sudden, blinding light. The floor trembled, and a deep rumble echoed through the air as the tiles shifted, rearranging themselves into a deadly pattern.
"Trap," Dorian muttered, but his grin didn't falter. "Classic."
Renia turned to him, her voice sharp. "Dorian, figure this out. Now."
He stepped forward, crouching to examine the shifting tiles. "Relax, fearless leader. I've got this. Just don't step anywhere stupid, alright?"
As he worked, he didn't notice the way the others exchanged glances behind him. He didn't see the way Renia's jaw tightened, or the way Sarem's hand hovered over the hilt of his sword.
He didn't realize, not until it was too late, that the trap wasn't the real danger.
When the push came, it was sudden and brutal. Dorian stumbled forward, his foot landing squarely on one of the glowing tiles. The room erupted into chaos as the trap activated, and he had just enough time to register the betrayal in Renia's eyes before the world exploded into pain and darkness.
And then, nothing.