The air on the fourth floor was so thick that Thalric felt his lungs filling with a viscous, heavy substance with every breath, a pressure that seemed to crush his chest and leave a bitter aftertaste in his throat. A cold sweat trickled down his back, clinging to his skin like a second layer he couldn't shed, while the humidity stuck to his silver armor, making every movement an exhausting effort. Each step he took echoed with a hollow sound that faded into the darkness, a noise swallowed by the walls as if they were watching, stalking him with silent malice. The torches they carried barely pierced the blackness, their flickering flames casting shadows that revealed grotesque shapes: twisted stalagmites that looked like specters frozen mid-scream, and roots that pulsed with a sickly life, their slow, rhythmic movements like the beating of a corrupted heart. The stench of dampness and ancient stone stung his nose, mingled with a cloying, rotten sweetness that churned his stomach, a smell that seemed to whisper promises of death.
What kind of place is this? Thalric thought, his mouth dry and a knot tightening in his throat. He had explored countless dungeons, faced beasts and bandits in the darkest corners of Eldoria, but he had never felt so… oppressed. It was as if the very air was imbued with a malevolent energy, a presence that watched him, judged him, a weight that seemed to want to crush his will before his body.
He glanced at his companions, their faces pale under the flickering torchlight, their expressions marked by an exhaustion that went beyond the physical. Kael, the young scout, walked with wide, frantic eyes, his breathing rapid and shallow, each step a struggle that seemed to cost him more than he could bear. The vision of his bloodied mother, an echo from the second floor, still haunted him, and Thalric could see how his hands trembled around his bow, on the verge of complete collapse. Poor kid, Thalric thought, a knot of guilt tightening in his chest. I should've listened to him at the camp. Maybe we could've avoided this. Anya, the thief, bit her lower lip so hard that a trickle of blood ran down her chin, her usual confidence replaced by an unease she couldn't hide, her fingers gripping the Bow of Eternal Shadows as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. Even Eliana, the mage, whose aura of serene wisdom had always been a beacon for the group, looked disturbed, her forehead creased with worry as her hands traced runes in the air, seeking a comfort that wouldn't come.
"We should've listened to Kael," Anya murmured, her voice barely a whisper lost in the dense atmosphere, laden with a fragility Thalric had never heard from her before. The woman who faced bandits and beasts without flinching now trembled before the unknown, her eyes searching his with a silent plea.
Thalric didn't respond. He knew Anya was right, that every decision he'd made had brought them closer to this hell, but fear was a poison that spread quickly, and he couldn't let it take hold of them. Instead of words, he offered a gesture of confidence, a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes, a desperate attempt to keep the group together for just a moment longer.
"Hold your positions," he ordered, his voice echoing with a strange distortion in the chamber, a warped tone that seemed to return to them as a mocking whisper. "We're close to the end. I can feel it."
Eliana nodded, her fingers tracing runes in the air with a silent urgency. Please, let the magic protect us, Thalric thought, watching as a faint but comforting blue light enveloped the group, a fragile shield against the shadows that seemed to tighten their grip. He scanned the walls, searching for any sign of danger, his eyes drawn to the gems embedded in the stone, which emitted multicolored glints—purple, red, green—in a hypnotic display that churned his stomach. For a moment, he thought he saw humanoid figures lurking in the shadows, their twisted, ephemeral outlines fading, but when he blinked, they were gone, leaving only an echo of movement that made him question his own sanity. Hallucinations, he told himself, trying to calm the nerves that seemed to burn beneath his skin. Just hallucinations.
A shiver ran down his spine, an electric current that shot through his vertebrae, making the hairs on his nape stand on end and his heart pound like it wanted to escape his chest. He glanced at his companions and saw the same terror mirrored in their eyes: Kael stumbled back with a gasp, Anya dropped a dagger that clattered against the floor, and Eliana clutched her chest, her breathing quickening. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
And then, from the depths of the chamber, a figure emerged.
At first, it seemed like a silhouette outlined against the darkness, but as it approached, its presence became unmistakable. A tall, majestic woman whose figure exuded a supernatural, seductive beauty that clashed with the oppressive atmosphere of the place. Her dress, woven from leaves and blue flowers, clung to her body, accentuating the provocative curves of her full breasts, wide hips, and rounded buttocks, each movement a song of elegance and power. Her green hair, long and vibrant, cascaded down to her waist like a living river, glowing with an ethereal shimmer that seemed to absorb the torchlight, and her translucent wings quivered faintly, reflecting constellations trapped within their surface. But it was her eyes that stopped Thalric's breath: deep amber, burning with an otherworldly intensity, a cosmic judgment that pierced him like an invisible dagger, evaluating him with an infinite indifference that reduced him to nothing. Aurora's pupils seemed to hold entire galaxies, a void that stared back at him, and Thalric felt a vertigo that made him stagger, nausea rising in his throat as an inexplicable pain gripped his chest, as if his soul were being weighed and found lacking.
Seated on a throne that seemed to rise from the very bowels of the dungeon, Aurora regarded them with a serenity that clashed with the oppressive atmosphere of the place. The throne was a grotesque and beautiful amalgamation, forged from the twisted bones of Thal'Korath, the Guardian of Balance, a god whose defeat had shaken the foundations of the ether a century ago. Deformed skulls, their sockets still glowing with a corroded golden shimmer, formed the backrest, their jaws open in a silent scream that echoed with the laments of divine anguish. Long, twisted bones, some still dripping golden blood that coagulated into shimmering pools, intertwined to form the throne's arms, while black flowers sprouted between the cracks, their dark petals drinking the divine essence that still seeped from the remains. Twisted vines embraced the skulls, their roots sinking into the bones as if feeding off them, a corrupted bed that highlighted the pure, seductive beauty of Aurora, a queen whose presence was as dazzling as it was terrifying.
"Welcome," she said, her voice resonating with a strange echo that seemed to come from the walls themselves, a crystalline song that cut through the air like a blade. "I'm glad you've made it this far."
Thalric swallowed hard, his throat dry as dust. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat, his mind clouded by the weight of that gaze that seemed to dismantle him from within. The woman, with her adult, sensual figure, radiated an aura of power that overwhelmed him, as if he were standing before an ancient god, a being that defied the laws of nature. What is this? he thought, his mind clouded as cold sweat ran down his forehead. A queen? With horns? And that power…? He felt small, insignificant, like an ant before a giant, his bravery reduced to ashes under the weight of a presence he couldn't comprehend.
"W-who are you?" he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper that broke in the air, a fragile echo that seemed laughable in the face of the magnitude of what he confronted.
Aurora smiled, a smile that exuded cold grace, a gesture that didn't reach her amber eyes, a movement that seemed more a formality than a display of emotion. "I am Aurora," she replied, her voice like the tinkling of shattered crystals, each word resonating with a chill that froze the air around her. "And you have invaded my home."
Eliana, her face pale and a look of horror etched in her eyes, stepped forward, her mage's instinct momentarily overcoming her fear. I have to know what she is, she thought, with a courage that contrasted with the terror gnawing at her from within. She extended a hand, focusing her energy into the "Soul Perception" technique, a spell that allowed her to see the vital flow of creatures, their aura, their essence. But as she tried to use it on Aurora, she encountered an absolute void, a darkness that absorbed all light, a nothingness that seemed to stretch into an infinite abyss staring back at her. A choked scream escaped her lips as she clutched her head, her body trembling uncontrollably, nausea rising in her throat as her vision blurred with flashes of an abyss she couldn't name.
"There's nothing…" she whispered with wide, frantic eyes, her voice breaking as she stumbled back, her magic dissipating like smoke. "No vital flow… It's as if… she's not alive… or as if she's too powerful for me to perceive…"
Her words echoed like thunder in the chamber, a sound that sliced through the air and left the group in a sepulchral silence. The other adventurers looked at her in disbelief, fear taking hold of them as their minds processed the impossible. Thalric felt the ground shift beneath his feet, but it wasn't an earthquake—it was something deeper, more sinister, as if the dungeon itself were awakening, responding to the will of the figure rising before them.
Aurora stood from the throne with a fluid, graceful motion, and the air around her twisted, the stalagmites creaking as if screaming, their twisted shapes warping further until they resembled beasts trapped in an eternal cry. The roots on the floor writhed more violently, their movements quick and convulsive, as if the dungeon were obeying a silent command. A deep hum filled the chamber, a sound that resonated in the adventurers' bones, disorienting them as their senses blurred with fleeting visions of tentacles and eyes that appeared and vanished in the shadows, brief glimpses of a horror they couldn't comprehend. Yet Aurora remained unperturbed, her face serene as chaos danced around her, her unsettling calm a reminder of her absolute indifference to the suffering she unleashed. Her tall figure, with its provocative curves highlighted by the dress clinging to her body, seemed almost hypnotic, a vision of pure beauty that clashed with the horror emanating from her.
"I won't give you another chance," she said in an icy voice, extending a hand toward them, her pale fingers glowing with a radiance that seemed to absorb the light itself. "Prepare to die."
And in that instant, hell broke loose. The stalagmites adorning the chamber came to life, reaching out toward them like giant claws, their sharp tips slicing through the air with a hiss that echoed like a scream. The adventurers barely had time to react, throwing themselves in different directions to avoid being crushed, their movements clumsy and desperate as the ground shook beneath their feet.
"Defensive formation!" Thalric shouted, but his words were lost in the chaos, his voice a mere murmur against the roar of the dungeon that seemed to obey Aurora's every desire.
Aurora watched it all with a serene expression, almost amused, her amber eyes glowing with an otherworldly light as she raised a hand in a gesture that was almost casual. The creatures the adventurers had defeated on the lower floors reappeared, emerging from the shadows with a guttural roar: giant rats with venom-dripping fangs, shadow spiders casting sticky webs that immobilized their victims, now larger, fiercer, their forms twisted by Aurora's power. The adventurers fought with all their strength, their weapons slashing through the air in desperation, but every blow they landed seemed to bounce off an invisible shield, a barrier of energy that absorbed their efforts as if they were insignificant.
Kael was the first to succumb. A gut-wrenching scream tore from his lips as a giant rat knocked him down, sinking its fangs into his leg with a crunch that echoed through the chamber. Before anyone could help him, the roots on the floor enveloped him, writhing like living snakes that dragged him into the shadows, his scream cutting off abruptly as he vanished into the darkness. "No!" Thalric shouted, running toward him, but he was intercepted by an invisible barrier that threw him back, his body slamming into the ground with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs.
Anya tried to use her daggers to cut through the roots, the Bow of Eternal Shadows abandoned on her back as its energy drain had left her too weak to wield it. Her knives sliced through the vines, but they regenerated instantly, their fibers weaving back together with impossible speed, as if feeding off the same energy that flowed through Aurora. The thief staggered back, panting, tears of frustration streaming down her face, her breath ragged as she looked around, searching for an escape that didn't exist.
Eliana, desperate, launched a fire spell directly at Aurora, a roaring fireball that illuminated the chamber with an orange flare. But the flames dissipated before they could touch her, turning into motes of light that floated around Aurora like obedient fireflies, their glow reflecting in her amber eyes without altering her expression in the slightest. "It's… impossible," Eliana whispered, falling to her knees, her magic dispersing like smoke as tears of helplessness ran down her cheeks. Her magic, which had always been her greatest strength, was utterly useless against this being, an echo of power that surpassed her by magnitudes she couldn't even imagine.
Aurora advanced with an unsettling grace, each step resounding like thunder in the oppressive silence of the chamber, her translucent wings shimmering with reflections that seemed to capture entire constellations. Thalric, immobilized by an invisible force that pinned him to the ground, watched her with wide, frantic eyes, his breathing ragged as cold sweat drenched his back. His heart pounded like a war drum, but he couldn't move, his body paralyzed by a power he couldn't comprehend. Eliana, at his side, sobbed silently, her body trembling uncontrollably as her mentors' accusations echoed in her mind, amplified by the third floor's lingering effects. Anya, her face streaked with tears of frustration, clung to her daggers as if they were a lifeline, her gaze empty as she stared at the spot where Kael had vanished. Mael, the veteran tracker, had curled into a corner, his Sword of Whispering Echoes abandoned at his side as the weapon's whispers mingled with visions of his fallen comrades, his mind teetering on the brink of collapse as he muttered incoherent words.
Aurora stopped in front of Thalric, her shadow covering him like a shroud, her tall, majestic figure casting a light that seemed to absorb the last vestiges of hope in the chamber. She tilted her head, her amber eyes gleaming with a cruelty that contrasted with her serene expression, her green hair flowing like a living river that trapped the light in hypnotic glints. "Your emotions are fascinating," she said, her voice a caress against his ears but one that froze his blood, each word resonating with a chill that pierced him like a blade. "The fear, the desperation… they're so delicious."
Thalric tried to scream, to curse, anything to break the paralysis that bound him, but his body wouldn't respond. It was as if he were trapped in a nightmare, a lucid dream where reality warped at Aurora's whim. His gaze locked onto her amber eyes, those wells that seemed to contain entire galaxies, universes of pain and suffering that stared back at him with an indifference that crushed him. In that moment, he understood. There was no escape. There was no hope. He was facing something that transcended his comprehension, a cosmic power that reduced him to nothing. I'll die here, he thought, a bitter resignation flooding his soul. And I won't even be able to fight. He remembered his home, his family, the laughter shared in the tavern after a successful adventure, images that now seemed so distant, so unreal. I'm sorry, he murmured in his mind, addressing his fallen companions. I've failed you.
Aurora extended a hand, her pale fingers brushing his forehead, a gesture almost gentle that belied the violence she had unleashed. A shiver ran through his body, a sensation of cold that pierced him to the bone, as if his life force, his very essence, were being torn from him. He felt his will fading, consumed by the queen before him, his body collapsing as darkness engulfed him.
Anya, seeing Thalric fall, felt the last thread of hope snap. I can't… I can't do this anymore, she thought, her legs trembling as her vision blurred with tears, her breath ragged as she looked at Eliana, sobbing on the floor, and at Mael, curled up in his corner with a vacant stare. Forgive me, she whispered, her voice broken by despair. She closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow, but instead of pain, she felt a pressure in her mind, a force dragging her into the darkness. And then, nothing.
Mael, hiding in his corner, watched the scene with a mix of terror and resignation. So this is the end, he thought, bitterness seeping into him. He had lived more than most dared to dream, but now, facing this unfathomable power, he felt like a broken man, no longer the proud veteran he had been. At least I'll die with my boots on, he told himself, a final flicker of pride. He closed his eyes, expecting the cold embrace of death, but instead, he felt a force enveloping him, consuming him. And then, silence.
Sebastián watched the massacre from the shadows alongside Kaili, both positioned behind the throne, their figures silhouetted against the faint light emanating from the runes on the walls. His face was a mask of neutrality, his eyes following the events without a single hint of emotion, a passive spectator uninvolved in his queen's game. Kaili, at his side, smiled with a cruelty that dripped with satisfaction, her iridescent wings folded with a whisper as her purple armor gleamed with golden runes. "You know, gardener?" she said, her voice laced with mockery as she leaned slightly toward him, her tone a whisper that echoed in the chamber. "That throne… A century ago, I teleported Thal'Korath's bones from the Sanctuary with my plague. I molded them for her, a trophy worthy of my queen." Her smile widened, a glint of pride flashing in her dark eyes as she gazed at Aurora, her majestic figure dominating the scene.
Sebastián didn't respond, his expression unchanging as he watched Aurora, his presence a silent pillar unmoved by the horror unfolding before them. When it was over, Aurora turned to them, her amber gaze meeting Kaili's for a brief moment, a faint smile curving her lips, a gesture that didn't reach her eyes as she vanished into the darkness, leaving behind only the echo of her crystalline laugh.