Jareth exhaled heavily, his breath ragged. His body ached from relentless battle, the blood of countless assassins staining his armor. Even the stairway bore the evidence of his struggle—slick with corpses, their lifeless eyes staring into nothing. He wiped sweat from his brow and pressed on, knowing rest was a luxury he couldn't afford.
As he neared the entrance to the fifth floor, a wave of blistering heat rolled over him. He hesitated. The stone door radiated warmth, and the air shimmered with heat distortion. A deep, molten glow pulsed from within.
With a steadying breath, he pushed the door open.
A vast chamber sprawled before him, its heart a hellscape of lava baths. Rivers of molten rock bubbled and roared, the heat suffocating. A single stone path wound through the inferno, leading toward the next staircase.
Then, the lava churned.
Rising from the seething depths, figures emerged—demons, their bodies sculpted from molten rock, veins pulsing with liquid fire. Their eyes, pits of smoldering red, locked onto Jareth with predatory hunger.
Jareth's grip tightened around the Godsword. "Of course it had to be fire."
The first demon lunged, liquid flames cascading from its form as it swung a molten fist. Jareth leaped back, barely avoiding the searing impact. The stone beneath shattered instantly, reduced to molten slag.
"Tch," he clicked his tongue. "Can't let them touch me."
He pivoted, using the walls for support, kicking off them to slash at the nearest demon. His blade met burning flesh, slicing through with difficulty—fire clung to the Godsword, resisting the cut. The demon staggered but didn't fall.
Another lunged from behind. Jareth twisted mid-air, driving a precision strike into its molten core. The Godsword pulsed, absorbing the impact. The demon screeched, fissures of golden light splitting across its body before it exploded into embers.
One down. Too many left.
Jareth adapted, using his surroundings—wall-running to dodge attacks, kicking off ledges to deliver rapid strikes. The fight was grueling, the heat draining his stamina. But with every swing, every precise cut, the demons fell, reduced to cinders.
As the last demon collapsed into the lava, Jareth didn't hesitate. He dashed forward, ignoring the inferno licking at his boots. He needed to leave this place before exhaustion claimed him.
The next door loomed ahead. He wrenched it open, stumbling inside—into another world entirely.
The Depths of the Water God
Coolness enveloped him, a stark contrast to the blazing hell he had just escaped. The air smelled of salt and fresh water, the walls glistening as if submerged. It reminded him of an aquarium park he had once visited in the real world—except this was no mere attraction.
The chamber stretched into an expanse of water, a deep pool so dark it seemed bottomless. The only path was a narrow stone bridge leading to the next stairway.
Then, the water stirred.
From the depths, figures emerged—sinuous, elegant, deadly. Sirens. Their scaled bodies shimmered, their haunting eyes locking onto Jareth. Lips parted, revealing needle-sharp teeth.
A moment later, they attacked.
A piercing shriek shattered the stillness. Jareth barely had time to react before a blast of compressed water shot toward him. He twisted, but the projectile grazed his wrist, cutting deep. Blood welled up, dripping into the water at his feet.
The pool rippled.
The sirens' eyes flashed with hunger. The water darkened, the color shifting—his blood tainting the depths.
Jareth cursed, stepping back. "Great. Now I've gone and stirred them up."
Another attack came. Jareth countered, using a burst of wind magic to propel himself above the bridge. Mid-air, he swung his Godsword, sending an arc of energy into the water. The explosion sent waves crashing, scattering the sirens.
But they weren't finished.
One surged upward, breaking the surface with unnatural speed, claws reaching for his throat. Jareth spun, his blade flashing—severing its arm in a single stroke. The siren wailed, crashing back into the depths.
Another leapt from the water. Jareth caught its momentum, driving his knee into its chest, then impaling it mid-air before landing. He was adapting, his attacks swift and efficient.
But the fatigue was catching up.
Breathing heavily, Jareth pressed on, cutting down the last siren as he reached the stairway. He grasped the handle of the door, blood still dripping from his wrist.
Then—the door exploded.
A force like a hurricane slammed into him, sending him flying back. He crashed against the stone, pain lancing through his body. As dust settled, he looked up, vision swimming.
A figure stood before him, framed by the shattered doorway.
A woman.
Tall, poised, radiating power. Her long silver hair cascaded like flowing water, her piercing blue eyes like polished sapphires, burning with fury. In her grip, a spear pulsed with divine energy, its surface etched with glowing runes. At her back, a Godgear shimmered with cerulean brilliance.
Her voice rang out, cold and sharp.
"Dragon God's Champion… YOU KILLED MY SISTER!"
Jareth's breath caught. His mind reeled.
No. That face… too familiar.
It couldn't be.
"I WILL TAKE YOUR LIFE FOR IT!"
The air surged with power, the chamber trembling as her wrath bore down on him.
Jareth's grip on his Godsword tightened.
Before him stood Nerina, Twin Sister of Lyra. The Godgear Bearer of Undine, the Water God.
And she wanted him dead.