-Lv6-
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Ryan and Aiden crashed face-first onto the cold floor, dust clinging to their backs. Aiden's breath was ragged, but Ryan's was nearly gone. His silence was heavy—dangerously so. To maintain speed in battle, he had held his breath far too long, pushing his body to the brink.
Sacium stepped forward at once, eyes sharp but hands swift. He pressed firmly against Ryan's chest—a precise force meant to expel the trapped CO₂. Ryan coughed, breath erupting in a sharp gasp, dazed and trembling. Sacium commanded, his voice low and firm:
Sacium: Breathe deep. Now.
Ryan obeyed, his breath quivering inside his chest. Moments later, Sacium brought two bottles of water. Aiden seized the first and drank like he'd never known the taste of cold water. Ryan followed, his gaze slowly regaining clarity.
The group was about to press forward, battle-worn yet energized, ready to strike again with newfound resolve.
But Ryan halted them.
Ryan: No noise.
His voice sank, clear and laced with warning.
We don't know how many more entities are down here. Don't let sound call them to us.
The group froze. Sacium raised an eyebrow, then mimicked Ryan's tone—mocking, but edged with truth.
Sacium: Hey Ryan, I've got an idea. You know how bats navigate in the dark? Echolocation. They emit sound, then listen to the echo to find their path.
He glanced at Aiden, whose flame still flickered in the palm of his hand.
Sacium: Tell everyone to line up—and kill the light.
Aaron jolted like he'd been shocked.
Aaron: Are you out of your mind? Can't you see? Without Aiden's light, you two wouldn't have made it past Entity 10! If we turn it off—
Sacium spun on him, voice cold as needles against skin.
Sacium: When you fight in a dark forest, do you dare turn on your flashlight?
Aaron fell silent. He knew Sacium was right. In darkness, light was a double-edged blade—it showed the way, but also gave you away. The silence wasn't from confusion—it was because the truth had come from someone they didn't trust. Sacium—always too cold, too unreadable, and now… someone they could no longer believe.
Helen stood behind him, eyes fixed on his back. She said nothing.
Only when Ryan spoke did the tension unravel.
Ryan: Sacium's right. Do as he says.
His voice carried weight. When Ryan agreed, the others listened—not reluctantly, but with real trust. The group formed a line. Aiden looked at his flame one last time, then snuffed it out. Darkness poured in, thick and slick as oil.
Sacium walked behind Ryan. Back at school, Sacium had been known for his extraordinary hearing. Now, paired with Ryan—who had undergone a full transformation—they were a perfect duo for sound-based navigation.
Ryan tapped his foot lightly against the floor. A soft tap, echoing faintly.
Ryan: Dead end on the right?
Sacium: No.
He answered after a pause, listening keenly.
The echo came quick and thin—something blocking nearby, but not dense like a wall.
They continued forward, speaking like calibrated sensors, decoding each echo, matching each reverberation. After a few minutes, Sacium halted. Something cold and firm brushed his boot.
Sacium: Wait, Ryan!
Ryan was about to step forward when Sacium grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Helen, right behind, bumped softly into Sacium's back.
Helen: What's wrong?
She asked, anxiety peppering her voice.
Sacium didn't answer. Ryan was already pressing his ear against the wall. Sacium crouched, tapping the floor.
Ryan: Hear anything?
Ryan whispered.
Sacium: Hollow. Empty. Light. Not solid.
Ryan: An open space beneath?
Sacium: Most likely.
Then the right isn't a dead end. There's a room.
Ryan stood up and signaled the group.
Ryan: Aiden, light up again. We're heading back to the fork.
Aiden snapped his fingers. A ball of fire flared in his hand, and the group moved, retreating to the earlier fork and turning right. There, they found a room. A rusted iron staircase waited, spiraling downward into utter darkness.
Ryan moved forward with Sacium. Helen lingered behind, eyes never leaving the two of them.
Ryan—stronger now, decisive and steady.
Sacium—unchanged, always leading, fearless. But that very strength made him seem distant. Almost… inhuman. Too perfect. No cracks to sympathize with.
She remembered Rose's words: Someone like him... is just wearing a mask.
She had never believed it—until now. Sacium's face, even unseen, felt strangely unreachable.
Then they both stopped. The air thickened. Moisture clung to their skin, sticky as cave breath.
Ryan tightened his voice.
Ryan: Aiden. Throw a fireball down. Then conjure another.
Aiden stepped forward and obeyed. He hurled the ball of flame down the staircase. All eyes followed the warm glow descending—
Ssshhh!
It hissed out. Extinguished. By water.
A long silence, then fear seeped in like a rising tide. Every hand found another's. They were linked now, and no one wanted to be first. To leap into darkness—into water, into the unknown—was against every primal instinct.
Sacium knew this.
He didn't say a word. Just took Ryan's wrist—and
Jumped.
Mid-fall, he kicked the wall hard, redirecting their momentum, dragging Ryan with him. The force rippled down the line. The chain of bodies stretched, then snapped. They all tumbled into chaos.
Aiden barely had time to process before something locked tight around his neck—Sacium's leg. He was yanked down with him.
Splash!
Helen plunged into the water. Her lips turned blue from the cold. She couldn't swim. Limbs flailed, mouth gasped, water filled her nose.
Eyes opened. Everything was murky—but light filtered down from somewhere above. She was in an ocean. A wholly different space. A new Level.
-Lv7-
She was nearly spent when something shoved her hard from behind. A force pushed her forward, propelling her through the water, toward the roof of a half-submerged house.
She climbed onto the rooftop. Hands trembling, body soaked. When she looked back, she saw Ryan swimming up, pulling the others behind him. Sacium and Aiden swam further out, their eyes still scanning the alien seascape.
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