Roy moved on autopilot, the gray stone walls of the corridor a meaningless blur. The scrape of boots and the murmur of his team were distant sounds, like a memory of a life happening to someone else. A presence drew near, a warmth at his side that cut through the cold fog in his mind.
"Roy," Eryndra's voice was a low, gentle current against the tide of his dissociation.
No sign that he had heard. She moved closer, her hand rising to rest on a shoulder that was rigid with unseen tension. A flicker of movement in the high shadows sent a jolt of pure instinct through her. Her head snapped up. Massive, chitinous legs unfolded from the dark, venom-slicked mandibles lowering silently, inches from his face.
There was no time for a warning. Her hand shot past his head, fingers wrapping around a grotesque limb in a grip of steel. The violent motion in his immediate periphery finally shattered Roy's trance, his breath hitching as the world crashed back into focus. A beat of restored awareness, a single look at the monster, and then he watched Eryndra act.
Contemptuous of its size, she used its own descending momentum against it, hurling the colossal spider across the corridor. Stone exploded as the creature's bulk demolished the wall, its hideous screech cut short by a final crush of debris.
Roy blinked away the lingering haze in his eyes. He looked from the twitching remains back to Eryndra.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice returning to its soft intensity.
"I... yeah," he managed, his voice hoarse. He shook off a final tremor. "Thanks, Eryndra."
A steadying hand on his shoulder was her only reply. "I've got you."
Lynder's throat cleared, a pointed sound directing their attention to the breached wall. Beyond the shattered stone lay a hidden chamber, untouched and shadowed. Within sat six ornate chests, lined up as if waiting for an audience.
"Hold up," Roy said, his eyes narrowing. "You never trust perfectly placed treasure."
A dismissive chuckle escaped Lynder. "Captain Gunn, your paranoia is misplaced. These are standard dungeon fare, a reward for dimensional acuity."
"Feel free to open them yourself then." Roy gestured with an exaggerated sweep of his arm. "I'm good back here."
With an air of unshakeable confidence, Lynder strode forward. From the first two chests he produced minor enchanted baubles, inflating his ego. As he flipped open the third, however, an enormous red tongue lashed out, wrapping around his waist and dragging him into a snapping, tooth-lined maw before he could so much as utter an incantation.
"A monster!" Orin shouted, blade already drawn in a delighted grin.
"Yup, mimic. Called it!" Roy yelled.
"Wait," came a voice from inside the mimic's mouth, muffled but oddly calm. "Do not interfere. This is… a lesson. I deserve this."
Orin paused, his sword half-raised, and shot Roy a deeply confused look. Roy simply offered a weary shrug. After a brief, awkward silence, Orin gently severed the mimic's connecting tissue. Its jaws fell open to reveal a deeply ashamed, slime-covered Lynder nestled inside. JFK stepped forward, extending a hand to help the mage up.
Ignoring it, Lynder lay still in the creature's remains. "Leave me. The cost of my arrogance is a price I must pay..."
"The monster's enzymes are dissolving your robes, Guildmaster," JFK noted, his tone perfectly level.
The old mage waved a dismissive hand. "A fitting penance."
"Procuring new enchanted vestments also has a cost," JFK continued smoothly. "Given your outstanding alimony payments to numerous former spouses, it is a cost you should perhaps endeavor to avoid."
Lynder was on his feet in an instant. A quiet incantation and a sharp gust of wind blew every trace of foul fluid from his robes, leaving them pristine.
Orin clapped his hands together once. "Guildmaster, aren't you a bit too tall to be getting trapped like a newbie? I guess you really are getting old..."
Still dusting himself off, Lynder fixed Roy with a severe look. "I must concede, Captain. Your awareness of such obscure creatures proves you have been withholding advanced knowledge."
"For the last time," Roy sighed, cutting him off, "I'm not hiding anything. Let's just say I have a healthy respect for obvious bait." He trailed off, something shining within the mimic's remains catching his eye. Bending down, he retrieved a heavy ring, adorned with strange markings and intricate etchings, and held it out toward Takara without thinking. "Hey, you want this one?"
Takara's breath hitched, a blush exploding across her face. Her eyes darted between the offered ring and Roy's oblivious expression as she seized the moment. "R-Roy, this is... all so very sudden! But if you insist, I suppose I—"
Realization dawned like a physical blow on Roy's face, followed by panic. "Whoa, wait…nope! Total misunderstanding! Andri, here, take it!"
Andri glanced at the ring, then at Roy, then gave Orin a mildly judgmental look. "Too small," she said simply, passing it over. Orin caught it, his eyes narrowing at the unspoken jab. The moment the ring slid onto his finger, a surge of formidable strength flooded through him. "Whoa!" he gasped.
Continuing the search, Andri pulled an elegant pendant from another chest, slipping it around her neck. From the last, she retrieved a staff of dark, whorled wood and casually tossed it toward Rava. The moment his hands closed around it, a gentle resonance hummed through him. Startled, he quickly steadied himself, then passed his old, plain staff to Truman without comment, a look of profound relief on his face.
His brief satisfaction was interrupted by a low skittering from the hole in the wall. A second spider, even larger than the first, emerged, its many eyes glowing with malice. "Perfect!" Orin bellowed, already charging.
Rava was the first to act. A rapid volley of arcane bolts, faster than any he had cast before, hammered against the creature's armored head, doing little more than producing sparks. The spider ignored him, its multiple legs moving in concert to pin Andri. Seeing the coordinated attack would overwhelm her, JFK acted. A flicker of silver left his hand, too fast to properly track, and buried itself to the hilt in a key tendon, crippling one of the creature's legs.
The attack faltered. Lunging into the opening, Andri drove her spear deep into the spider's thorax. The creature shrieked, an uncontrolled leg catching her in a backswing that sent her stumbling. A grunt of pain was forced from her, but the faint runes that flashed to life on her armor held, and she kept her footing.
With a final war cry, Orin brought his blade down in a devastating two-handed arc, cleaving straight through the monster's carapace and ending the fight with a sickening crunch.
"Your strikes have grown considerably stronger, Orin," Eryndra noted with an approving nod. "Still slower than Lutrian, but in raw force, you may be his equal."
Puffed up with pride, he summoned the leg portion of his Ethereal Armor. The added weight was immediate; a test step became a heavy, unbalanced lurch. He dismissed it with a grimace. As he inspected his new ring, Lynder's curiosity was piqued. "Fascinating. If I am not mistaken, one of fourteen rings forged by a legendary giant slayer. Fourteen giants' souls captured, they say."
Orin squinted at the markings an inch from his face. "This is in the old language of giants! I don't know any of the words except 'dad', 'giant' and 'tall', but the numbers I know. This one says 'Giants' and then 'Third.' So you're probably right!"
While the others examined their loot, Roy awkwardly drew Takara aside. "Look, earlier… with the ring. I didn't mean to, you know... propose. It was a misunderstanding."
Takara feigned a look of pure confusion, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. "Oh, I completely misunderstood? How embarrassing for me," she replied, her voice a perfect imitation of innocence.
"I mean… not that it would be a bad thing," Roy stammered, digging himself deeper. "You're great and all, but that's not—"
A soft, insistent chime in his earpiece cut him off, a merciful end to his spiraling explanation. His posture straightened instantly, the private transmission erasing the fluster from his face. "Excuse me," he said, turning away from a smiling Takara.
"Captain," Eisenhower's voice was calm, but the message was not. "An update on Zehrina's team. No immediate physical danger, however, her behavior has intensified. Her pace has exhausted Warrex. He is unconscious, but stable. The situation warrants your awareness."
Roy let out a quiet breath. "Understood, Eisenhower. Keep me updated."
He rejoined the others, his thoughts already shifting to deeper, more complicated problems far below them.