The team had settled within a cavernous expanse, where veins of pale light coursed through the walls like trapped lightning. Moss clung to the stone in uneven patches, its deep green a stark contrast to the cold, lifeless rock. Here and there, rare sprouts of twisted plants pushed through cracks in the ground, their roots seeking what little nourishment this place allowed. The air carried a damp chill, thick with the scent of earth.
Then—a ripple in space. The air distorted, and in the blink of an eye, Kin stood among them.
He wasted no time. "The Master of the Legions Guild sent me. We need to leave. Now."
Silence. A few raiders exchanged wary glances.
"Hold up" A man pushed off the wall, arms crossed, his voice laced with scepticism. Yoko. He eyed Kin with an easy confidence. "You can't just appear out of nowhere and start barking orders."
Another voice—measured, calm. Kireo. He regarded Kin with a steady look, his tone cool but not dismissive. "With all due respect… the Guild Master holds no authority over me. So why should I follow you?"
Kin's fists clenched. He couldn't waste time arguing. His voice kept clear, unbroken.
"A monster from the 20th floor attacked us on the 14th. Something's wrong with the dungeon."
That got their attention. Kireo sitting relaxed with his side against the dungeon's walls took a glare at Kin "...That's not supposed to happen."
Yoko scoffed; his arms remained crossed. "A 20th-floor monster? how scary! I will cut them all down."
Kin's feeling the pressure, but before he could speak, the Legion Captain—a commanding presence stood up amongst them. "The kid's not just talking about the 20th floor." His gaze swept over the team, serious. "He's saying this could happen anywhere. On any floor."
Kin exhaled, steadying himself. "Name's Kin."
The Captain gave a slow nod. "Captain of the Legions Team." They clasped hands—a brief but firm exchange.
Kin didn't skip a beat. "What floor is this?"
The Captain's answer landed like a stone in his throat.
"The 31st"
A deep tremor rumbled beneath them. Then another. The earth shuddered—dust trickled from the dungeon ceiling.Then—a growl. Low. Reverberating. Something massive was coming.
A wave of pressure crashed over the Raiders, sinking deep into their bones. The air turned thick—charged with raw, suffocating energy. Then—wings unfurled. A shadow loomed, vast enough to eclipse the cavern's distant ceiling.
Two heads. Two sets of eyes. Two voices, speaking as one.
"Humans," it rumbled. Its voices overlapped, one rich and ancient, the other sharp and cruel. "It has been… ages."
A deep glow ignited in its twin maws—searing, pure destructive power gathering in its throats.
Some Raiders stood frozen; their breath stolen by sheer magnitude.
One of them gasped. "That… magic…"
Kin shook off the paralysis gripping his limbs. No time to freeze. No time to hesitate.
He moved.
The dragon's maws ignited, a blinding crescendo of destruction swelling— Kin slammed the orb to his chest. "Take us to the Legion Guild Hall!" Light swallowed them.
A split second later—the world detonated.
The cavern erupted in a blinding white inferno; the force so overwhelming that it left an open chasm in its wake—yawning into the unknown depths below. As the white-hot radiance faded, only smouldering ruin remained. Perched at the crater's edge, unscathed, the two-headed dragon watched. One head let out a slow, amused chuckle. "How interesting."
The other exhaled a deep, rattling breath. "Yes, brother… very."
Their eyes glared, reflecting the abyss left in Kin's wake.
A sudden flash of light erupts in the guild hall, followed by a sharp gust of displaced air. The arrival is near-instantaneous—one moment, there's nothing, the next, they stand in the heart of the guild. Gasps ripple through the room as dozens of eyes lock onto them, confusion and awe painted across their faces.
Yet, amid the tension, a single figure moves unfazed. The rookie dashes past without sparing them a glance, as if their sudden appearance were as routine as a passing breeze.
Without hesitation, they ascend the wide staircase draped in crimson, each step muffled by the plush carpet beneath their boots. At the top, inside the guild master's room the rookie is already present, head bowed in deference before the Guild Master. A hushed exchange passes between them before the rookie straightens and strides past.
The Guild Master exhales, a breath weighted with tension, before placing his phone down with measured precision—a quiet clack against the desk. His gaze lifts, cool and assessing, scanning their faces.
"Good. You're here." His voice, though even, carries the kind of urgency that tightens the air in the room. His fingers tap once against the wood, a fleeting gesture of restraint.
"All the guild leaders have just agreed. The plan has changed. You should be receiving the message any second now—"
Ping!
A sharp chime punctuates the moment.
A raider pulls out his phone, eyes locked at the screen. A second passes. Then another. Two words glare back at him, stark against the screen:
The words "Evacuate Raiders" glare back at him in stark white letters. Legion's Guild Master speaks without pause, his voice carrying the weight of an undeniable command.
"All raiders from the sixth floor downward— must be evacuated immediately."
The captain steps forward, his stance rigid, his words clipped. "What the hell is going on, Master?"
The Guild Master meets his gaze, his expression grim. "Something's changed. Monsters from the lower depths have begun attacking higher floors. It doesn't matter if they're seasoned raiders or rookies—casualties are mounting by the minute." His hands tense on the red wood desk, his words pressing down like iron.
"Save as many as you can."
They push back into the dungeon, urgency crackling between them like static. The 5th floor ahead, its towering entrance streaked with severed stone. Shinoh's gaze sweeps the passing figures—and then he sees him.
"Kin!" His voice slices through the air, sharp and unrelenting.
Kin doesn't register it at first, lost in the momentum of the charge. But the name snags his mind like a hook, jerking him from the tide of motion.
He barely turns. "Shinoh, it's been a while, but—"
"Your mother!" Shinoh roars the words, desperation laced in every syllable. "She's worried about you!"
The name lands like a hammer. Kin stops.
Kin and Shinoh stand eye to eye, the dungeon's distant echoes swallowed by the silence between them.
"Kin." Shinoh says his name as if testing reality itself. His breath is uneven, a sharp contrast to the steel in his stare. "You're alive." His voice is raw—hoarse from shouting, from searching, from hoping.
"They told me a level 2 wouldn't make it." His fingers twitch, hands curling like they might hold onto something that isn't there. "I had to tell your mother about what happened. But... she never stopped believing. And neither did I."
Kin exhales through his nose, his expression softening, but he doesn't let it linger. His smile rises—not just out of relief, but from something deeper, something earned.
"A lot's happened, Shinoh," he says, his voice steady but edged with exhaustion. "Right now, we need to evacuate the lower floors. I'll tell you everything when I get back."
Shinoh watches him, then lets out the smallest sound—half a breath, half acknowledgment. His lips press together, something unspoken in his expression, before he gives a single nod. Kin doesn't wait. He turns and disappears into the rushing crowd, his figure swallowed by the momentum of the mission.
Time forwarded inside the twisting tunnels of the dungeon, the air dense choking with the coppery scent of blood.
Flash. Tiren, his armour painted in streaks of red, drives his fists through a writhing beast. The monster screeches—a sound that rattles through marrow—before collapsing in a twitching heap.
Flash. Kiero, hoists a wounded ally over his shoulder. Their legs buckle under the weight, but they press on, effortlessly through the smoke-choked air.
Flash. A headless body drops. The dull thud barely registers over the relentless din of battle. Another follows. Then another. Their killers—inhuman, merciless—vanish back into the depths. Kin's voice echoes over the shifting montage, carrying the weight of what no words could fully contain.
"Many raiders died that day. Many more were left broken. It was a nightmare to witness."
The images shift. The dungeon stills. The screams, the clash of steel, the desperate cries—replaced by something softer yet no less haunting.
A sea of mourning.
The world awakens in hues of fire. The sun, on the horizon spills a deep red glow across the field—painting the ground in long, wavering shadows. The light catches on the armour of the fallen. Rows of the headless lay with an eerie precision, their lifeless forms lined in perfect, awful order. Loved ones kneel beside them, their voices quivering with prayers that rise into the cold air. A woman clutches the hand of a motionless figure, her forehead pressed against stiffened fingers, whispering through choked sobs. A child, too young to understand the finality of death, shakes their father's headless shoulder, waiting for him to wake up. Some cry loudly, openly—wails of grief that shake their very ribs. Others sit in still, hollow-eyed silence, their tears long spent. Nearby, the wounded stir—some groaning through gritted teeth, others too weak to make a sound as medics work tirelessly around them.
Kin watches.
his silhouette stark against the tragedy unfolding before him. His posture is rigid, yet his shoulders betray the exhaustion sinking deep within. He sits on a small grassy hill, his legs drawn up beside him.
Then—beep, beep!
A call.
Kin lifts the device, his movements sluggish. "Hello," he says, voice void of its usual sharpness. The response comes with measured calm. "Hello, Kin. It's the Legion's Guild Leader. Can we talk?"
Kin exhales, eyes dull. taking some time to answer.
"Yeah," he mutters. Tired of it all.