**[Three Months Ago - Crimson Abyss Dungeon, Exit Portal]**
---
The portal deposited us in the staging area outside the dungeon—a safe zone carved into red stone, filled with other players preparing for raids or recovering from failed attempts.
I stumbled as I materialized, still disoriented from everything that had happened in the last twelve hours. My legs felt weak—whether from exhaustion or from... other activities... I didn't want to think about.
Aria appeared beside me, looking equally unsteady. Her hair was disheveled, her robes creased in ways that made it obvious we'd been through something intense.
Several nearby players glanced our way, curious.
"Rough run?" one asked.
"You could say that," I managed.
Aria was already pulling up her HUD, checking notifications, deliberately not looking at me. Creating distance.
I understood. What happened in there—the miasma, the loss of control, everything we'd done—it was embarrassing. Complicated. Easier to pretend it never happened.
Except I couldn't stop thinking about it.
About her.
"I should go," she said suddenly, still not meeting my eyes. "My guild's probably wondering where I've been."
"Right. Yeah. Of course."
She turned to leave, took three steps, then stopped.
Turned back.
"Ryker," she said, her voice softer. "What happened in there—"
"Was the drug," I finished for her. "I know. Don't worry about it."
"That's not what I was going to say."
I looked at her, really looked at her. Her expression was conflicted—part regret, part something else I couldn't identify.
"Then what?" I asked.
She opened her mouth, closed it. Started again. "The miasma lowered our inhibitions, yes. Made everything more intense. But it didn't create feelings that weren't already there."
My heart stopped.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying..." She hesitated. "I'm saying I don't regret it. Not entirely. And I'm saying that if we ever—if circumstances were different—"
She didn't finish the sentence.
A notification interrupted us:
**[DUNGEON BOSS RESPAWN ALERT]**
**[CRIMSON ABYSS - LORD OF DESIRE - RESPAWNING IN 30 SECONDS]**
"Shit," Aria swore. "Other parties are going to rush in for the kill."
Sure enough, three full raid groups were already forming up near the entrance—forty-five players total, all high-level, all geared for the fight.
One of them was a guild I recognized: **Obsidian Vanguard**, a Top 30 guild known for boss farming.
Their raid leader, a massive warrior named **Stonefist**, was shouting orders. "Formation alpha! Tanks front, DPS spread, healers middle! This is a clean twenty-minute kill, people!"
I was about to suggest Aria and I clear out—two solo players couldn't compete with organized raids—when something caught my attention.
The dungeon entrance was glowing red. Not the normal red. *Wrong* red.
"Uh, Aria?" I said.
She saw it too. "That's not normal."
**[SYSTEM ALERT: DUNGEON ANOMALY DETECTED]**
**[BOSS MUTATION EVENT]**
**[DIFFICULTY INCREASED TO MYTHIC TIER]**
**[RECOMMENDED PLAYERS: 100+]**
"A hundred players?" someone shouted. "We've only got forty-five!"
The dungeon entrance exploded outward.
Not metaphorically. The stone archway *exploded*, sending chunks of rock flying. Players scattered, shields raised, defensive spells activated.
What emerged was not the normal boss.
**[LORD OF DESIRE - MYTHIC VARIANT]**
**[LEVEL: ???]**
**[HP: ???/???]**
**[WARNING: EXTREME THREAT]**
The creature was massive—fifteen meters tall, humanoid but wrong. Its body seemed to shift between solid and liquid, between flesh and shadow. Four arms, each holding a different weapon. Eyes that glowed with the same crimson as the miasma. And an aura that made every player in the safe zone take an involuntary step back.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" Stonefist yelled.
The boss didn't wait for them to organize. It moved—impossibly fast for something so large—and swung one of its four weapons: a greatsword made of crystallized blood.
**BOOOM!**
The shockwave sent ten players flying. Five of them died on impact, health bars dropping to zero before they even hit the ground.
**[Obsidian Vanguard members eliminated: 5]**
Chaos erupted.
Tanks tried to form a line. DPS players launched attacks. Healers desperately cast buffs.
Nothing worked.
The boss shrugged off fireballs like they were raindrops. Tank shields shattered on impact. Healing spells couldn't keep up with the damage.
In thirty seconds, fifteen more players died.
"RETREAT!" Stonefist ordered. "EVERYONE OUT!"
Players scrambled for the exit portal—the one that led back to Centralis Nova's main hub.
The boss raised one hand, and the portal *collapsed*. Just vanished, like it had never existed.
**[EMERGENCY EVACUATION DISABLED]**
**[SAFE ZONE COMPROMISED]**
**[SURVIVE OR FALL]**
"We're trapped!" someone screamed.
The boss turned its multiple eyes toward the remaining players—twenty-five survivors, scattered and panicked.
And it smiled.
That's when Aria stepped forward.
"Everyone, get behind me," she said, her voice cutting through the chaos with absolute authority.
"Are you insane?!" Stonefist shouted. "That thing is unkillable!"
"No," Aria said calmly. "It's just difficult."
She planted her staff in the ground, and the crystal at its tip began to glow. Not the warm golden light I'd seen in tournaments. This was different.
White light. Pure, searing, *absolute* white.
The air around her began to shimmer, distort. Her robes lifted as if caught in a wind that didn't exist. Her hair floated, crackling with energy.
"Aria," I said, recognizing the signs. "That's a Sacrifice-class spell."
"I know."
"You'll burn out your mana. Maybe your health."
"I know."
"You might *die*."
She looked at me over her shoulder, and smiled. "Then don't let me die."
Before I could respond, she began chanting.
Not in English. Not in any language I recognized. The words felt old, primal, like they existed before language itself.
"*Lux aeterna, per me fluat. Corpus meum, pretium offero. Anima mea, sacrifico.*"
Her mana bar started draining. Fast. 100% to 90% to 80%.
The light around her intensified, becoming almost blinding.
The boss sensed danger. It roared—a sound that shook the ground—and charged directly at her.
"PROTECT HER!" Stonefist bellowed, and to his credit, he immediately moved. His massive shield intercepted the boss's first strike.
**CLANG!**
The impact sent him skidding backward ten meters, but he held.
"TANKS! ON ME!" he roared, and the surviving tanks formed a line between Aria and the boss.
The boss didn't care. It swung with two weapons simultaneously, shattering shields, crushing armor.
Three more tanks died.
70% mana. 60%. 50%.
"She's not gonna make it!" a mage shouted.
I made a decision.
Activated **Shadow Step** and appeared directly in front of Aria, daggers drawn.
"What are you doing?!" she gasped, her concentration wavering.
"Buying time. Keep casting."
The boss's third arm swung at me—a spear made of bone.
I dodged left, the spear missing by centimeters. Countered with **Phantom Strike**, my daggers finding gaps in the boss's shifting form.
**[Damage: 2,847]**
Its health bar didn't even flicker. The damage was a rounding error.
"Are you fucking kidding me," I muttered.
40% mana. 30%.
The boss backhanded me with its fourth arm—a massive fist.
I tried to dodge.
Too slow.
**WHAM!**
I flew backward, slamming into the stone wall. Pain exploded through my body—the game's pain system was usually capped at 30%, but apparently in Mythic encounters, that cap was removed.
**[HP: 6,842 → 1,205]**
One hit. One fucking hit had nearly killed me.
"RYKER!" Aria screamed.
"Keep! Casting!" I coughed, forcing myself to stand.
A healer—bless them—hit me with an emergency heal. My health climbed back to 40%.
20% mana. 10%.
The light around Aria was now so bright it hurt to look at. Her entire body was glowing, transcendent, like she'd become light itself.
The boss roared again and ignored everyone else, focusing entirely on her. It *knew* she was the threat.
All four weapons raised simultaneously.
"EVERYONE PROTECT HER! NOW!" Stonefist commanded.
Every surviving player moved. Tanks formed a wall. Mages erected barriers. Healers cast every protective buff they had.
The boss struck with all four weapons at once.
The barriers shattered. The tanks' shields broke. Players died.
But they held long enough.
5% mana. 3%. 1%.
"***LUX AETERNA***!"
Aria's staff erupted with light that consumed everything.
The boss. The dungeon. The sky. Reality itself seemed to vanish into that white void.
And then... silence.
---
When the light faded, the boss was gone. Not dead—*erased*. Like it had never existed.
**[LORD OF DESIRE - MYTHIC VARIANT: ELIMINATED]**
**[LEGENDARY ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: MYTHIC SLAYER]**
**[EXPERIENCE GAINED: 2,847,000]**
Aria collapsed.
I caught her before she hit the ground, my own injuries forgotten.
"Aria? ARIA!"
Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused. Her health bar was in the red—15%—and her mana was completely depleted. Even her stamina bar was nearly empty.
"Did... did we win?" she whispered.
"You won. You crazy, reckless, amazing—" I couldn't finish the sentence.
She smiled weakly. "Takes one to know one."
Around us, the surviving players were standing in shocked silence. Twelve had survived out of forty-five.
Stonefist approached, his massive frame somehow seeming small. "What... what *was* that spell?"
"Sacrifice-class, Master tier," Aria said, her voice barely audible. "I told you it was just difficult."
"That wasn't difficult," another player said, awe in their voice. "That was *impossible*. And you just did it. Alone."
"Not alone," Aria corrected, looking at me. "He bought me the time I needed."
I shook my head. "All I did was be a distraction."
"You risked your life. For someone you barely know." Her hand found mine, squeezed weakly. "Thank you."
The emergency exit portal reformed—the safe zone restored now that the threat was eliminated.
Players began evacuating, many of them stopping to thank Aria, to ask for autographs, to gawk at the legendary mage who'd just solo'd a Mythic boss.
She ignored all of them, her eyes fixed on mine.
"Ryker," she said softly. "What I did just now—that spell. That's why people call me #1. Not because I'm special. Because I'm willing to sacrifice everything for the win."
"That's exactly what makes you special," I said.
"But it's also why..." She hesitated. "Why I can't have normal things. Normal relationships. Normal... anything. My entire life is this game. This rank. This endless climb."
I understood what she was saying. What she wasn't saying.
"So what happened in the dungeon—"
"Can't happen again," she finished. "Not because I don't want it to. But because I can't afford distractions. Not if I want to stay #1."
It hurt. More than I wanted to admit.
"I understand," I lied.
She saw through it. "Ryker—"
"No, seriously. I get it. You're focused. Dedicated. I respect that." I helped her to her feet. "But for what it's worth? That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen. You're not just #1 on some leaderboard. You're *the* mage. The standard everyone else measures against."
She looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable in her expression.
Then she kissed me.
Not like in the dungeon—desperate and drugged. This was soft. Gentle. Sad.
When she pulled back, her eyes were glistening.
"In another life," she whispered. "Maybe we could have—"
"I know."
She stepped back, creating that distance again.
"I should go. Really go this time."
"Yeah."
She turned, walked toward the portal.
Then stopped. Looked back one more time.
"Ryker? That spell you saw me cast? Learn it. Master it. Not because you want to be like me, but because I want to see what you do with it when you make it yours."
"I'm an assassin. I don't have the mana pool for—"
"You're going to reroll to mage," she said with absolute certainty. "I can see it in how you fight. You think like a mage, you move like an assassin. Combine them? You'll be unstoppable."
"That's crazy talk."
"So is hitting Rank 47 in two years. So is tanking a Mythic boss with daggers. So is..." She smiled. "So is everything about you."
And then she was gone, through the portal, back to her guild and her responsibilities and her #1 rank.
I stood there alone, processing everything.
The dungeon. The miasma. The spell. Her words.
*Learn it. Master it. Make it yours.*
That's when I decided. When everything changed.
I was going to reroll. Assassin to Mage. Start from scratch.
Not to chase her rank.
To chase *her*.
---
**[Present Day - Void's End Bar]**
Aria's hand was still holding mine across the table.
"I tried to forget," she said quietly. "Told myself it was just the drug. Just a moment of weakness. That focusing on the game was more important than... than feelings."
"Did it work?"
"For about a week." She laughed softly. "Then I'd see your name in the rankings. See you climbing. Two years, from 47 to where you are now. And I'd think about how you tanked a Mythic boss with daggers just to give me time to cast."
"I was an idiot."
"You were brave." She squeezed my hand. "And then you did it. You actually rerolled to mage. Everyone said you were crazy. Throwing away two years of progress. Starting over."
"I had my reasons."
"I was one of them."
It wasn't a question. She knew.
"Yeah," I admitted. "You were."
We sat in silence for a moment.
Then she stood, still holding my hand, and pulled me up.
"Come on," she said.
"Where?"
"My guild has private training rooms. Top-tier facility. I want to see what you've learned."
"You want to... spar? Now?"
She smiled—and this time, it wasn't sad. It was mischievous. Dangerous.
"I want to see if the student can keep up with the teacher."
"And if I can?"
Her smile widened. "Then maybe we finish what we started in the Abyss. But this time..." She leaned in close, her lips almost touching my ear. "No drug. No dungeon. Just us. Making very intentional decisions."
My heart hammered. "Aria—"
"Unless you're scared?" she teased.
"Of you? Absolutely terrified."
"Good." She pulled back, her eyes dancing with something that made my breath catch. "Fear keeps you sharp. Come on, PhantomEdge. Let's see what you've got."