Veyra

The golden glow of the Hourglass Café dimmed as the last grains of sand slipped through the air above.

Alice sat forward, fingers laced, wings tucked close. Nemi lounged across from her with a lazy grin; Veyra sat beside him, arms folded, expression unreadable.

“I’ve made my choice,” Alice said quietly.

Ignition glanced over, heat shimmering faintly around his shoulders. “You sure?”

Alice nodded once. “Yeah. I choose… Veyra.”

For a second, no one moved.

Veyra blinked. “Me?” The word came out soft, almost unsure.

Alice smiled faintly. “You’re calm. Reliable. That’s what we need.”

Something flickered in Veyra’s eyes surprise, then something warmer. She looked away, pretending not to care. “Understood. I’ll… try not to malfunction.”

Nemi blinked, stunned, then threw both hands up dramatically. “Wait, really? You’re picking her over this?” He gestured down his own shimmering dancer’s body. “The scales? The charm? The hair?”

Ignition smirked. “I think you just oversold yourself.”

Nemi laughed, brushing it off with theatrical flair. “Well, can’t say I didn’t try.” He leaned in before anyone could react, planting a quick kiss on Ignition’s cheek, then one on Alice’s. “You two would’ve been fun to dance with.”

Alice’s face went scarlet. “Nemi ”

“Nemi ” Alice started, but he was already backing toward the glowing door, that playful sparkle never leaving his bright orange eyes.

He laughed light, almost musical and with a little shrug said, “But hey… this just isn’t my story.” His grin turned wistful, “That’s okay, though. My story’ll come.”

Then, waving goodbye to a dream, he spun on his heel and was gone.

Ignition exhaled through his nose, leaning back. “Well. That was dramatic.”

Veyra crossed her arms, pretending not to look flustered. “So… where are we headed, boss?”

[Status Sheet: Alice]

(Spread your wings, baby bird. Oh, right, try not to crash them into another tree this time.)

Race: Human (well, mostly. Jury’s still out on how long that lasts.)

Class: Valkyrie (ah yes, the shining bikini angel of ****. Try not to blind people with all that exposed skin.)

Level: 7 (you survived long enough to be statistically relevant. Impressive.)

Title: Sweet Survivor (not the title you wanted, but the one you deserve.)

Affiliations: Guild of Inspira (Daddy’s coin purse), Ravens Howl (volcano babysitter)

HP: 78 (from 45 resurrection insurance comes with a sturdier meat suit.)

Mana: 300 (up from 50 healing juice and wing fuel don’t come cheap.)

Body

Strength: 31 (up from 24 you can almost break things on purpose now.)

Constitution: 45 (from 28 better odds of walking away from face-planting into candy trees.)

Agility: 72 (from 41 the stats say graceful, the trees disagree.)

Appearance: 66 (from 36 bikini armor scaling. Hope you like being ogled.)

Mind

Charisma: 44 (from 29 you can probably talk your way out of a mugging. Or into one.)

Intelligence: 37 (down from 38 distracted by your own reflection, huh?)

Willpower: 46 (from 45 stubborn, reckless, slightly more resistant to panic.)

Perception: 46 (from 42 you notice things… except large stationary trees.)

Magical

Magical Strength: 30 (from 5 sparkler upgraded to actual weapon.)

Magical Control: 21 (from 3 at least now you won’t miscast yourself into spontaneous combustion.)

Class Features (Valkyrie)

Flight (Passive): Spread your shiny magical wings. Feels natural. Flies like chaos. (No refunds.)

Healer’s Grace (Active): Basic healing spell. Costs mana, scales on sensitivity/control. “Ouchies begone.”

Battle Hymn (Aura): Party morale buff when fighting near you. Allies hit harder if they think you’re hot. (Spoiler: they do.)

Resurrection (Major, Restricted): The Big One. Once per day, bring back a fallen ally. Resurrection is one of the rarest powers in existence, and you just got it at level one. Don’t blow it on some rando.

Notes

Armor Restriction: Bikini armor only. Everything you equip transmutes into something thematically skimpy. Daily wear included. Congratulations: pants are dead to you.

Wings: Color synced to your hair, fully integrated into your body. No off switch. Enjoy sleeping on your stomach forever.

Attribute Points

15 Attribute Points left. You may:

Pump stats (boring but safe).

Blow them in the Cash Shop (chaotic, horny, fun).

[Equipment]

(Because you thought the armor restriction wouldn’t apply to your shiny new toys. Adorable. Let’s see what the system did to your loot.)

Gumbark Grip-Belt (F Rank)

Original: Black licorice leather belt with retractable tether and sticky-step anchoring.

Post-Valkyrie Change: Candy-striped garter belt with matching thigh straps.

Effect: Same utility (Snap-Line, Stick-Step).

“Congratulations: your grappling hook is now lingerie.”

Confectioner’s Sash (F Rank)

Original: Practical belt-sash with hidden pockets. +3 Agility, +1 Perception.

Post-Valkyrie Change: Bright candy-colored hip scarf that hangs off her bikini bottoms.

Effect: Same utility. Hidden pockets intact.

“Yes, your extra storage is literally in your stripper scarf now.”

Spun Sugar Shawl (D Rank) unequipped.

Original: Gossamer wrap with modesty field (10 mins/day).

Post-Valkyrie Change: Translucent sugar-silk capelet flowing behind bikini armor wings.

Effect: Same utility. Timer still cruelly short.

“Ah, the illusion of modesty. How quaint.”

Candyfloss Cloaker (Consumable, 3 charges)

Original: Baton device projecting an opaque pink fog curtain.

Post-Valkyrie Change: Unchanged, the fog still smells faintly of cotton candy.

Effect: Same consumable effect.

“Wardrobe malfunctions incoming. Don’t say I never gave you props.”

Core Capsules (x6)

[Sun’s Fury (A Rank)]

Effect: Converts ambient heat into radiant bursts.

Trait: Solar Pulse – Consecutive strikes charge sunlight; release blinds enemies and sears barriers.

Bonus: Brief heat resistance.

Warning: Extended use may cause dehydration in arid zones.

[ Jackal’s Grin (A Rank)]

Effect: Absorbs residual soul energy from defeated foes.

Trait: Gravecurrent – Converts absorbed essence into cutting power. Each kill strengthens blade briefly.

Bonus: Gains a spectral afterimage that mirrors the wielder’s swings.

Warning: Must be cleansed or the echoes grow… restless.

[Equipment Equipped: Ashen Shroud (B Rank)]

Effect: +12 Agility, +15 Willpower. Negates minor fire damage, brief smoke-dodge on evasions.

Post-Valkyrie Change: Transformed into sleek black ribbons framing bikini armor.

“Function over fashion, my dear. And by ‘function,’ I mean my entertainment.”

[New Featured Trait: Razor Plumage]

Description: Convert feathers into razor-sharp projectiles. Fire them with precision and style!

Warning: Feathers only harden once detached from the body. Don’t worry you won’t slice yourself by accident… unless you try.

[New Ability Gained: Resonant Calm]

When linked to Ignition, you can suppress his berserker state for a limited time.

Warning: Emotional feedback may occur. Try not to melt.

[Cursed Feature: Eternal Bikini Mode]

Bad news, champ. Your wardrobe is now permanently locked to thematic bikini armor.

Everything you equip instantly transmutes into “appropriate” Valkyrie-style gear.

Accessories too. Hope you like thigh straps and armored lingerie.

The Oasis faded behind them.

Now there was only the Labyrinth.

Sandstone walls stretched inward, cracked and breathing with faint blue light. The ceiling bent where gravity couldn’t decide which direction it obeyed, stairs looping sideways, bridges spiraling into darkness above. The air felt embalmed, heavy with incense and mana.

Alice adjusted the strap of her hip scarf and exhaled.

“I still can’t tell if this place is beautiful or trying to kill us.”

“It’s both,” Ignition replied, nudging aside a fallen slab with his boot. “Places like this like to keep you guessing.”

Veyra followed in silence, her gaze constantly moving, tracking every flicker of shadow. The dim azure glow of her eyes reflected off the torches lining the walls.

They stopped at a junction where the path split three ways. One stair ascended into mirrored stone, another led sideways through a narrow arch, and the third spiraled downward into violet mist. The air smelled faintly of embalming oil.

Alice’s reflection fractured across the polished surfaces, multiplied and stretched until it looked like hundreds of her stared back. Gleaming wings. Bikini armor. Sun-touched skin.

Her blush deepened.

“…Okay, this lighting is rude.”

Ignition glanced at the reflections, then smirked. “I wasn’t going to mention it.”

“You just did,” Alice snapped, tugging her Ashen Shroud tighter. It only made the ribbons glint brighter. “Why is my life like this?”

“Because Dice,” Veyra said, tracing a backward scarab carved into the stone. “And because you keep wearing two square inches of metal as armor.”

“That’s not a choice, it’s a curse.”

“Same thing.”

The ground shifted beneath them, not violently, but just enough to drop their stomachs. The hallway rotated ninety degrees, walls becoming stairs, the ceiling yawning below them like a open maw.

Ignition steadied himself. “Rule one of the Labyrinth. The floor hates you.”

“Noted,” Alice said, wings spreading slightly for balance. “So which way?”

Veyra crouched, fingers brushing the reversed scarab. “Down.”

Alice nodded once. “Alright. Down it is.”

They descended.

The air thickened, incense and mana pressing close. Whispers began to form, syllables unraveling like thread.

“Don’t answer them,” Veyra said quietly.

“Why not?”

“They’re looking for a name,” Veyra replied. “Once they have yours, it doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

(what the fuck does even that mean?)

Silence followed.

They emerged into a chamber lined with shattered mirrors.

Ignition’s flames flickered faintly around his fists. “Welcome to hell’s funhouse.”

Alice drew Sun’s Fury from its capsule, the spear blooming with gentle sunrise light.

Every mirrored surface shimmered.

Reflections breathed on their own. Eyes blinked when no one moved.

Laughter followed, low and velvety, ancient.

Shadows coalesced into tall, feline silhouettes draped in sand and jewelry, bodies sculpted from smoke, eyes burning bright.

The Sand-Wraiths. Bastka’s Courtiers.

They moved like dancers in a forgotten court.

“Welcome, little wanderers,” they purred in chorus. “Bastka remembers every rumor, every secret. Shall we remind you of yours?”

One drifted toward Veyra, gaze dissecting her like an autopsy.

“You pretend to feel nothing because feeling terrifies you. You chase emotion like a thief chasing a light. When you hurt, you’re almost happy because at least it means something’s still alive in there.”

It leaned close, voice dropping to a whisper.

“You chose the assassin’s path because it looked cool. A costume. You don’t even remember what you were imitating.”

Veyra’s jaw tightened. “You think I haven’t heard this before?”

“You hear it every time you close your eyes.”

“You're such a liar, what do you think they'll do when they find out the truth of what you really want.”

Another shape swelled toward Ignition, the Wraiths merging into the outline of a man wreathed in flame their combined voices became a roar.

“Knight. Hero. Killer. You tell yourself you fell because of rage, but you always wanted to burn. You hid behind vows, behind armor, behind love until the day your mask melted and they saw what you really were.”

The sand around him darkened, becoming crimson dust.

“You didn’t lose control. You chose it. You enjoyed it. You slaughtered your friends because, for once, you didn’t have to pretend.”

Ignition’s fist trembled, heat radiating from him in waves. The ground cracked.

“Silence Spirit."

But the Wraiths didn’t flinch they giggled, delighted by the pain.

Finally, the chamber itself seemed to exhale as a Third Wraith emerged, circling Alice. It was smaller than the rest, gentler in form, but its smile was the cruelest of all.

“Sweet survivor,” it cooed. “Always the innocent one. Always pretending you earned it.”

“Ah. The girl who’s never fought alone.”

Alice’s pulse stumbled. The Wraith circled her slowly.

“You walk with legends. A Berserker blessed by fire. An assassin with more kills than you have wins. And you?”

It leaned close, the shape of its mouth curving into something human and cruel.

“You’re level seven.”

Alice’s hand tightened on her weapon.

“You haven’t earned a single level that wasn’t handed to you. Do you even know what it’s like to bleed for your own power?” The Wraith’s tone sharpened. “You call it teamwork, but it’s charity. You hide behind stronger people and call it learning. You fail upward. You inherit victory.”

Alice took a shaky breath, wings flexing. “That’s not true”

The Wraith smiled wider. “Isn’t it? You were born to power. Just given to you at birth. The spoiled little girl who plays hero with her father’s coins.”

Each word struck deeper.

Alice’s feathers dimmed, their light fading to dull embers.

“You say you hate what he stands for,” the Wraith continued. “But when the pressure comes, you reach for his shadow. You drop his name to get what you want. You say you’re independent, but the only reason anyone takes you seriously is because of who your father is.”

The Wraith’s sand coiled tighter around her ankles, whispering like silk.

“You’re everything you claim to despise. A pretender. A mascot in a borrowed title. The Guildmaster’s daughter playing at being an adventurer. Tell me” the voice softened to a whisper “what will you do when no one stronger comes to save you next time?”

Alice’s throat ached. The weapon in her hand trembled. She wanted to shout, to deny it but she couldn’t. The words pressed into her chest like stones.

“You don’t even know what you are,” the Wraith murmured. “Not a warrior. Not a saint. Just a frightened child pretending the wings make her special.”

Her wings flared, feathers catching firelight. “Stop.”

The Wraith smiled. “Then stop pretending.”

For a moment, no one breathed. The reflections in the walls whispered the same phrase back hundreds of echoes, all repeating:

“Stop pretending. Stop pretending. Stop pretending.”

Then, as one, the Courtiers dissolved into motion ribbons of gold sand lashing outward, the air howling with laughter.

Ignition erupted into flame, his fists carving arcs of light through the haze.

Veyra dove into the storm, moving like a shadow given form, blades flashing in precision lines.

Alice raised her weapon high, the radiant energy of Sun’s Fury blazing in her grasp. “Ravens Howl hold the line!”

The chamber twisted as the Wraiths attacked. Sand lifted like smoke, swallowing the air in gold and shadow. Every mirrored wall turned traitor, each reflection a new threat.

Alice moved first.

Her wings snapped open, scattering dust in a storm of pale light. The Sun’s Fury spear blazed in her hands, its golden blade pulsing with stored heat. She spun it once, feeling the hum travel up her arms, and launched herself upward with a single beat of her wings.

Below, a dozen Wraiths surged toward her reflection, ignoring the real one above them. Perfect.

She pressed a finger to the spear’s hilt. Solar Pulse.

The weapon sang.

A blast of radiant energy burst from the tip, streaking through the mirrored air. The explosion lit the labyrinth in searing white. Wraiths screamed as their forms burned away smoke tearing from sand, light cutting through illusion.

Then the gravity turned.

The ceiling became the floor, and Alice dropped sideways but she didn’t fall. The Gumbark Grip-Belt flared at her thigh, a candy-striped tether shooting out and latching onto the wall. Her sandals stuck to the surface with a sugary click as she landed running at a ninety-degree angle, spear tucked beneath her arm.

“Come on,” she muttered through her teeth, heart pounding. “You want me? Catch me.”

A wraith lunged from the mirrored wall beside her, claws like smoke-glass blades. Alice twisted mid-stride, feathers erupting from her wings in a spiral. The air shimmered then the Razor Plumage struck.

Hundreds of feathers hardened mid-flight, slicing through the air in a golden arc. The Wraith shattered on impact, scattering into a scream of dust. The **** of her own attack flung Alice backward; she spread her wings again, catching herself in the shifting gravity before colliding with the opposite wall.

Too fast. Too loud. Too many.

A second swarm poured from the sand below feline shapes with burning eyes and jeweled throats whispering her name in Bastka’s tone.

Pretender. Parasite. Pretty toy.

Alice gritted her teeth and thrust Sun’s Fury forward. The weapon thrummed as heat gathered along its crescent blade the stored energy of her last strikes. She drove the spear downward, releasing the charge.

Light detonated like a miniature sun.

The blast blew a hole through the floor, scattering the ghosts but leaving the air thick with heat and shimmering distortion. Alice gasped, wings half-folded against the pressure wave.

And then the Wraiths regrouped.

They rose again from the golden haze not wounded, only angered. Their laughter returned, layered and cold. Alice drew a breath, the Ashen Shroud flaring around her shoulders.

Smoke swallowed her whole.

She stepped through her own shadow, reappearing behind the nearest Wraith, spear thrust low. The weapon met resistance not flesh, not air, something in between and she drove it deeper, snarling. The Wraith shrieked and imploded in a burst of sand.

For a heartbeat, she stood in silence, chest heaving, sweat slick against her sun-touched skin. The radiant glow from her armor traced the faint lines of her tan, a reminder of the Oasis and how long she’d lingered there, untested.

The labyrinth bent itself into madness.

Walls folded like paper, corridors rippled upward, and the sand that should have fallen instead rose in twisting spirals of gold and shadow. The laughter of the Wraiths chased through every echo.

Ignition struck first.

His heel split the ground as he lunged, a red blur in the flickering gloom. The sandstone cracked beneath his step, and his fist a comet of molten light obliterated a Wraith mid-charge. Fire blossomed in his wake, painting the chamber in roaring orange.

But another took its place. Then another. Always smiling. Always whispering.

“Show us your truth, little pyre. You burn so prettily when you lie.”

“Shut. Up!”

He swung again, the flames on his knuckles flaring brighter with each strike. The air warped from the heat, every exhale a blast furnace. His body was a living weapon but every motion was a fight against the rage that begged to be released.

He could feel it gnawing under his skin, clawing for control. The berserker hunger. The thing that had taken everything from him once before.

He wouldn’t let it win again.

The labyrinth convulsed.

Sand poured upward as gravity twisted, the floor becoming a wall, the ceiling folding in on itself like a closing jaw. Sand-Wraiths surged from every surface, shrieking as they slid and crawled through the air, their forms half-solid, half-memory.

Ignition moved like a living catastrophe.

Flames roared from his shoulders and spine, burning so hot the sand vitrified beneath his boots. Each step left molten glass in its wake. His fists struck the air itself, shockwaves detonating outward, vaporizing Wraiths in blinding bursts of heat.

“Too hot,” Alice gasped, shielding her face as shards of glowing glass skittered across the floor. “Ignition, you’re ”

Another pulse of dungeon mana surged through the chamber.

The runes etched into the walls flared, reacting to the inferno. Heat fed heat. Pressure collapsed inward.

Ignition felt it slam into him.

The dungeon wasn’t resisting him anymore.

It was feeding him.

His fire doubled, then tripled, surging beyond control. The flames twisted into jagged, bestial shapes that lashed outward with every breath he took. His eyes burned gold-white.

The ground buckled.

Alice felt the panic spike in her chest. “Ignition wait !”

Too late.

The berserker inside him broke its chains.

Fire exploded outward in a violent corona, shredding the remaining Wraiths into ash and memory. The blast wave hurled Alice backward, wings snapping open on instinct as she barely stayed upright.

The chamber went white.

Then

Pain.

A sudden, sharp impact tore through Ignition’s shoulder. Not heat. Not mana.

Something cut.

He staggered, breath ripping out of him in a raw snarl. Another sting followed, then another dozens of razor-thin impacts slicing through the air.

Feathers.

Alice’s razor-feathers.

They rained down through the burning air, glittering gold and blood-red as they fell. Some embedded in the molten floor. Others sliced through drifting ash.

One lodged deep in Ignition’s shoulder.

Another grazed his side.

Ignition dropped to one knee, breathing hard, flames sputtering unevenly around him. His hands shook, fire dripping from his knuckles like molten metal.

“Oh no,” Alice whispered, horror flooding her chest.

The Sand-Wraiths recoalesced at the edges of the chamber, circling like vultures, their voices overlapping in delighted murmurs.

“Look how easily they bleed for you, little Valkyrie…”

Alice’s stomach flipped. Her wings trembled violently.

This is my fault.

I hit him.

I hit him.

Stupid feathers.

Stupid new power.

Stupid dungeon.

Ignition **** himself upright, shoulders heaving, flames crawling up his neck like they wanted to devour him whole. He was right on the edge that same razor-thin line she’d seen before.

The one she barely pulled him back from.

Before.

His head snapped up.

His gaze locked onto her.

Not seeing her.

Seeing rage. Guilt. Ghosts.

“Don’t ” Alice breathed. “Ignition, please don’t look at me like that ”

Another uncontrolled burst of fire tore outward, scorching the walls black.

Ignition staggered forward, fists clenched so tight the flames warped the air around them.

“Get… back…” His voice cracked, fractured stone under pressure.

Alice’s heart slammed against her ribs.

I know how to stop this.

I know exactly how to stop this.

And I really, really don’t want to say it.

But he was losing the fight.

And if he tipped

Someone would die.

Alice stepped forward.

Then another step.

Ignition stared at her, wild, cornered, terrified of himself.

“Alice…” he rasped. “Run.”

She shook her head, cheeks burning hotter than his fire.

“I I know how to calm you down,” she blurted.

Ignition froze.

The flames faltered.

Just for a heartbeat.

Alice wanted the dungeon to swallow her whole.

She squeezed her eyes shut and **** the words out before her courage could fail.

“The only thing that um worked last time was you know the thing. The s-e-x-. The ”

She threw her hands up, wings flaring in mortification.

“The kissing-and-touching! The fucking! I don’t have another method!”

Silence.

Even the Wraiths paused mid-drift.

Ignition’s flames sputtered.

The berserker rage didn’t vanish.

But it hesitated.

Alice stepped closer, voice shaking.

“So please… look at me. Not the dungeon. Not the memories. Me.”

Her heart pounded.

“My stupid wings stabbed you, and I panicked, and everything’s awful, but if you lose control now, someone’s going to get hurt. So if you need a focus then ”

She swallowed hard.

“I’m right here.”

Ignition’s breath hitched.

The fire around Ignition wavered.

no longer wild.

Alice didn’t give herself time to think.

She stepped in, hands curling into the scorched fabric at his chest, rose onto her toes, and kissed him.

Hard.

Heat flared between them, but this time it didn’t explode outward. It folded inward instead, drawn tight, contained. Ignition froze for half a second in pure shock

Then he kissed her back.

Not frantic. ****.

Slow. Deep. Real. Their tongues twisting a against each other almost fighting for dominance,

Alice felt his arms come around her, strong and careful all at once, lifting her off the molten floor like she weighed nothing. Her wings flared instinctively, feathers brushing his shoulders as he held her close, the fire around him settling into a low, steady glow.

Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could feel it.

When the kiss broke, she gasped for air drool from her tongue trailing between them, forehead resting against his, both of them flushed red enough to rival the dungeon’s glow.

Ignition was blushing.

Really blushing.

That more than anything short-circuited her brain.

“I ” Alice blurted, words tumbling out in a rush. “I love you" (Oh fuck Dice why did I say that out loud)

"Wait! I mean not like, gods, not like love love or wait I mean, just I have a crush, okay? A really big one, and I know this is the worst possible timing and I don’t expect anything and I’m rambling and ”

Ignition kissed her again.

This one was softer. Shorter. Intimate in a way that Alice didn't even know was possible.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes glowing warmly instead of burning.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” he said quietly.

Alice’s brain blue-screened.

Ignition huffed a breath, clearly flustered himself. “After. After we finish the dungeon run. Because… priorities.” H

Alice laughed, breathless, cheeks blazing. “Y-yeah…”

They stared at each other for a second longer than necessary, both grinning like absolute idiots.

Seven feet of fire berserker.

A winged Valkyrie in a permanently cursed micro-bikini.

Looking like a pair of nervous teenagers who’d just held hands for the first time.

A dry, irritated clap echoed behind them.

They turned.

Veyra stood alone amid the fading sandstorm, blade resting on her shoulder, the last wisps of Sand-Wraith essence dissolving around her boots. Not a single enemy remained.

She stared at them.

Then at the empty battlefield.

Then back at them.

“…I killed all of them,” she said flatly.

Alice’s stomach dropped. “You did?”

“Yes,” Veyra replied. “While you were… occupied.”

Ignition cleared his throat.

Alice’s wings drooped.

Veyra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Next time, please inform me before you turn a combat encounter into a make out session.”

Alice buried her face in her hands. “I'm never going to live this down am I?.”

Ignition squeezed her hand.

The dungeon corridors stretched onward, the stone shifting subtly with each step, sand drifting like lazy ghosts along the floor. The danger hadn’t vanished, but it had… dulled. Like the labyrinth itself was giving them a moment to breathe.

Alice walked a half-step ahead of Ignition.

Not because she meant to.

Because every time she looked at him, her brain short-circuited again.

Her wings brushed the walls when the corridor narrowed, feathers whispering against stone. Ignition slowed instinctively, heat dimmed low and controlled now, careful not to scorch them. Every so often, their hands brushed.

Every time it happened, both of them flinched.

Then pretended they hadn’t.

“So,” Alice said finally, way too loud, “uh. Dungeon. Still… dungeon-ing.”

Ignition let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “Very observant.”

She shot him a look, then immediately looked away again, cheeks pink. “I’m just saying. You know. Focus. Professional adventurers. Totally normal.”

“Right,” he said, nodding solemnly. “Extremely normal.” He coughed. “Anyway.”

They reached a junction where the corridor split into three paths, each marked by a stone relief. One showed a coiled serpent biting its own tail. Another, a cracked hourglass. The third, a pair of wings carved mid-flight.

Alice stopped dead.

“Oh come on,” she muttered. “Not again.”

Veyra examined the carvings without comment, blade resting against her shoulder. “Puzzle,” she said. “Dungeon logic. Likely punishes hesitation.”

Alice folded her arms, wings twitching. “That’s dumb.”

Ignition stepped up beside her, eyes flicking between the symbols. “Serpent’s a loop. Hourglass is time pressure. Wings are… risk.”

Alice glanced at him. He glanced back.

They both immediately looked away again.

“…Wings,” Alice said, voice small but firm. “We take wings.”

Veyra gave her a sideways look. “You’re sure?”

“No,” Alice said honestly. “But I’m never sure. So statistically, this is fine.”

Ignition snorted despite himself. “That checks out.”

They pressed the wing-carving together.

The wall rumbled, stone grinding as the other two paths sealed shut. The floor ahead unfolded into a chamber of rotating platforms suspended over a shallow pit of shifting sand, each platform etched with faint runes that pulsed in sequence.

“Timing puzzle,” Ignition said. “Jump when the runes sync.”

Alice stared at the platforms for exactly two seconds.

Then stared at her own wings.

Then stared at the platforms again, as if insulted by the concept.

“…Or,” she said carefully, “hear me out. I just fly.”

Ignition turned his head slowly. “Alice.”

“It’s literally a wing door,” she insisted, already backing up. “It wants wing solutions. This is dungeon literacy.”

Veyra’s expression didn’t change. “It’s going to punish that.”

Alice pointed at her like that proved her point. “See? She agrees it’s themed.”

“That’s not what I said.”

Alice took a breath, crouched, and launched herself.

Her wings snapped open in a bright flare of red and gold, catching the warm air rising from the sand pit. She glided cleanly over the first two rotating platforms, smugness already bubbling up in her chest.

I’m finally using my

A click echoed from the walls.

Alice’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

Stone panels slid open in perfect symmetry. The dungeon exhaled a trap.

Darts.

A whole damn constellation of them, hissing through the air in glittering lines.

Alice yelped, twisting hard mid-flight. Her wings beat once, frantic and uneven, as she jerked upward, then sideways, then down again. Darts shaved past her arms, her ribs, the delicate edges of her wing-feathers. One clipped a feather tip and sent it spinning away like a tiny, glowing leaf.

“Alice!” Ignition barked.

“I KNOW!” she screamed back, doing the least graceful aerial maneuver anyone had ever attempted in the history of flight.

She tried to dive under the barrage, but the platforms rotated at the worst possible angle, forcing her into a corkscrew. She barely managed to dodge the final volley by tucking her wings tight and dropping like a rock.

Unfortunately, there was only one thing waiting for her at the far side.

The treasure chest.

Alice slammed into it at full speed.

Wood cracked. Brass fittings exploded outward. The lid flew off with a dramatic, offended squeal.

Alice hit the ground in a heap of splinters, feathers, and regret.

For a heartbeat, everything was silent except for the faint hiss of darts embedding themselves in stone.

Then mana crystals spilled everywhere in a sparkling cascade, rolling across the floor like someone had dropped a bag of stars.

And in the wreckage, half-buried in velvet lining, sat a single item that pulsed with clean, dangerous light.

A C-rank loot drop.

Alice groaned into the rubble. “Ow.”

Ignition crossed the platforms the normal way, because of course he did, landing beside her with the kind of controlled irritation that said he’d been terrified and hated that part most.

Veyra followed at a steady pace, gaze sweeping the dart holes in the wall like she was mentally cataloging the dungeon’s personality flaws.

Ignition crouched, then offered Alice a hand. “You alive?”

“I think so,” Alice wheezed, lifting her head. Her hair was full of dust. One wing was crooked. Her dignity was somewhere in the sand pit behind her.

Ignition looked down at the obliterated chest, then at the mana crystals glittering around her.

He huffed a laugh. “Well.”

Alice squinted up at him. “Don’t.”

“Well thats one way to find out if it was a mimic,” he finished anyway, voice warm with helpless amusement as he hauled her upright.

Alice swayed, then steadied herself, cheeks burning. “If it was a mimic, I would’ve punched it.”

“With your face?”

“Shut up.”

Ignition’s grip stayed on her a second longer than necessary, like he was making sure she was actually standing. Then he let go and reached down to pick up the C-rank item, turning it slightly as the System glow reflected in his eyes.

Veyra stared at the ruined chest. Then at Alice. Then at the dart ports.

“…You solved the puzzle,” she said flatly.

Alice brushed splinters off her bikini armor with as much dignity as she could salvage. “You’re welcome.”

Ignition flicked a glance at her wings, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Next time, maybe we do it the boring way.”

Alice muttered, “Next time, I’m bringing a helmet.”

They gathered the mana crystals, And as they moved on, Alice caught Ignition looking at her like he was trying not to smile.

She pretended not to notice.

But her cheeks stayed warm.