They found Aurelian at the edge of a ruin that should not have existed.
The corridor opened into a collapsed expanse of stone, the ceiling torn away so completely that the darkness above felt exposed rather than enclosing. Broken columns lay scattered across the ground like ribs pulled from a carcass, their surfaces scraped raw by something that had dragged itself through here recently. The air was warmer than it had been moments before, heavy with the smell of scorched iron and old blood.
Caelum saw him first.
Aurelian sat against the base of a fractured pillar, massive body slumped forward, his breathing slow but steady. His armor was damaged beyond anything they had seen before, plates cracked and peeled back as if something had tried to tear them off piece by piece. Fresh growth crawled along the exposed edges of the metal, black steel knitting itself together in uneven, ugly seams that pulsed faintly as they hardened.
He was alive.
That fact alone sent a ripple through the group.
Ysara reached him in three steps, crouching low as she scanned his injuries with sharp, practiced eyes. "He's breathing clean," she said, relief slipping through her voice before she could stop it. "No punctured lung. That's a miracle down here."
Aurelian lifted his head slowly, eyes focusing with visible effort. When he saw them, a crooked smile pulled at his mouth, immediately followed by a cough that brought fresh blood to his lips.
"Miss me?" he rasped.
Mireya knelt beside him without speaking, her hands already moving to assess the damage. She pressed gently against his ribs, feeling for instability, and Aurelian hissed through clenched teeth but didn't pull away. Whatever he had endured here had recalibrated his understanding of pain.
Seraphine remained standing, watching the space around them instead of the man himself. "The floor let you go," she said. It wasn't a question.
Aurelian's smile faded. "Didn't let me," he replied. "Finished with me."
Caelum stepped closer, Red Amendment low at his side, eyes never leaving the ruined stone around them. "What happened?"
Aurelian exhaled slowly, then laughed under his breath, the sound hollow and humorless. "Door lied. Floor didn't."
That was enough.
They moved him.
Not hurriedly, not gently—just efficiently. The floor tolerated motion here, but only when it served a purpose. They guided Aurelian toward a recessed chamber just off the ruin's edge, one of the rare spaces where sound softened instead of vanished. A Quiet Zone, or close enough to pass for one.
Aurelian lowered himself against the wall with a grunt, rolling his shoulders carefully as the armor along his back shifted and settled. Caelum watched the way the metal responded to movement, how it thickened in places that had taken the worst damage. It wasn't armor in the traditional sense.
It was adaptation.
Iscahrel crouched nearby, hands steady as he prepared bandages that felt laughably insufficient for wounds like these. "You were alone," he said carefully.
Aurelian nodded. "Long enough to learn what Floor Two does when it gets bored."
Ysara leaned back on her heels, folding her arms loosely. "We ran into a false door. Purple skulls. Tried to crawl into our heads."
Aurelian's eyes flicked up sharply. "Four skulls?"
"Yes," Seraphine said. "We didn't open it."
"Good," he replied immediately. "That one doesn't kill you fast. It just makes you agree to things you shouldn't."
Silence settled again, heavier this time.
Mireya finished binding the last of his injuries and sat back, studying him with an expression that was equal parts irritation and relief. "You don't get to disappear like that again."
Aurelian met her gaze evenly. "Didn't plan on it."
Caelum finally allowed himself to breathe properly.
The floor pulsed beneath them, a slow, deliberate vibration that rolled through the stone and into their bones. Not aggressive. Not warning.
Anticipatory.
Seraphine turned her attention toward the far end of the chamber, where the corridor widened into something that felt intentional. "We're at the edge," she said. "The end of Floor Two."
Aurelian followed her gaze. "Good. I'm done letting this place teach me lessons."
They moved together again, slower now, more deliberate. The corridor beyond the ruin stretched wide and straight, its walls carved smoother than anything they had seen since arriving. Symbols etched into the stone glowed faintly, not red this time, but a deep, restrained violet that throbbed gently in time with the floor's pulse.
The air grew dense as they approached the threshold.
Ahead, the door waited.
It was different from the others.
Taller. Wider. Its surface was dark stone polished to a mirror-like sheen, veins of color crawling just beneath as if trapped under glass. Above it rested six skulls, all human in shape but warped subtly, their features stretched and smoothed until they felt less like remains and more like masks.
Their eye sockets burned a dull red.
No whispers came from this door.
No suggestions.
No pressure against the mind.
That made it worse.
Ysara exhaled slowly. "Combat door," she said. "Red eyes don't play games."
Aurelian straightened, wincing slightly as his armor adjusted again. "Finally."
Caelum studied the skulls carefully. Six meant difficulty. Not the worst they would see, but nothing forgiving. He could feel Red Amendment react subtly, the hidden mechanisms along its blade tightening as if bracing itself.
"Before we open it," Iscahrel said quietly, "we should talk."
That alone made everyone pause.
He met their eyes one by one, voice steady despite the fatigue etched into his face. "We're not going to survive this by pretending we don't need each other. Floor Two already showed us that separation isn't an accident. It's a tactic."
Mireya nodded once. "Agreed."
Ysara tilted her head slightly, a faint smile touching her lips. "Guess that means we actually have to trust you big idiots."
Aurelian snorted. "Don't push it."
Seraphine stepped forward, placing her palm flat against the door. The stone was warm beneath her touch, vibrating faintly as if aware of her presence. "This one leads down," she said. "Not immediately. It's a trial space first. Large. Multi-phase."
"How do you know?" Caelum asked.
She withdrew her hand. "Because it wants us prepared."
The floor answered her.
The skulls' eyes flared brighter, and the door began to part, stone grinding against stone with a sound that felt ancient and final. Heat spilled out from the widening gap, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of sulfur and scorched bone.
Beyond lay a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in shadow, its floor carved into concentric rings that descended gradually toward a central pit. Chains hung from above, thick enough to anchor buildings, swaying gently despite the absence of wind.
Something moved far below.
Heavy.
Scaled.
A low rumble rolled up from the depths, vibrating through the stone and into their chests. Not a roar. Not yet.
Aurelian grinned, teeth stained red. "Now that," he said, "sounds like a proper welcome."
Behind them, the door sealed shut.
Floor Three waited.
And somewhere deep in Hell, THE WARDEN laughed—pleased, impatient, and very much paying attention.