Kara, sawn, Zeus began their raid.
**********
The gate smelled like rot and iron.
Kara stepped through first, her boots hitting the stone floor of the dungeon's antechamber with a sharp crack that echoed down the corridor ahead. The air was thick — the kind of thick that pressed against your lungs and made every breath feel like you were drinking something. Mana. Dense, unfiltered, wild mana. The kind that only pooled in places that hadn't been cleared in a long time.
She rolled her shoulders. "S-rank."
"You say that like it means something good," Sawn said, stepping in beside her. She was shorter than Kara by nearly a head, lean in the way of someone who didn't need bulk to be dangerous. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled back tight. Her eyes moved constantly — not nervously, but methodically, the way a clock hand sweeps. Always measuring. Always counting.
