In the middle of the city, the Red Dungeon stood like a bleeding wound in reality, its pulsing glow tainting the surroundings with an eerie crimson.
Assassin soldiers surrounded it, stationed in a loose perimeter. Tension thickened with each passing hour.
One assassin leaned toward another, muttering under his breath, "It's been over four hours. They still haven't formed a team to raid this thing."
The other scoffed, eyes scanning the dungeon's glow. "I heard they can't even figure out what type it is. No readings. No classification."
As night fell, floodlights were set up across the area, casting harsh beams across the red haze. The dungeon pulsed again—brighter this time. Almost… alive.
Twenty-five minutes later, a shift rippled through the group. The assassins at the front of the gate suddenly turned— toward the portal. weapons half-drawn, as if they sensed something coming.
Suddenly, without warning, the surface of the Red Dungeon began to crack.
