[DUNGEON ALERT: FINAL FLOOR – "ORIGINAL SIN"
Level Requirement: ???
Description: ???
Warning: No survivors.
Adam's boots crunched over the bones of long-dead warriors as he stepped forward, his sword—a relic of a hundred battles—gripped tight in his trembling hand. The air reeked of burnt magic and rotting flesh, the dungeon's walls pulsing like a living, bleeding heart.
Behind him, his comrades—his family—moved in sync.
This was it.
The last strike. The end of everything.
He turned to them, his voice hoarse from years of war.
"After today… no more sacrifices."
For a fleeting second, he saw it—the hesitation in Lucas's grip on his axe, the way Janna's fingers twitched around her staff.
Then—
Agony.
A white-hot knife twisted in his gut. His vision blurred. Blood—thick and black—filled his mouth. He coughed, spraying crimson onto the dungeon floor. His veins bulged, turning ink-black beneath his skin.
Poison.
His knees slammed into the stone. The sword clattered beside him.
And then—he saw their faces.
Lucas, his best friend, staring down at him with disgust.
Janna, his wife, her lips moving in a silent spell—not to heal him, but to paralyze him.
The crowd of lesser adventurers—watching. Silent. Smirking.
Adam's breath came in ragged gasps. His fingers dug into the cracks of the stone floor, nails splintering. Blood dripped from his nose, his ears, his eyes, painting his face in crimson tears.
"Why?" The word tore from his throat, raw and broken.
Janna's voice was ice:
"Because you were never the hero, Adam."
The crowd murmured, boots shuffling against the stone.
"He's still alive?"
"The poison should've—"
Adam roared, his body lurching forward, muscles snapping the chains of her spell. The dungeon walls shook.
He would kill them.
He would—
---
THE AXE FALLS
Lucas moved like lightning, his axe a silver arc in the hellish glow.
A wet crunch.
Adam's head hit the ground before his body did.
But his eyes stayed open.
Burning. Unblinking.
Even as the world faded to black, his last thought was a promise:
I'll kill you all.
---
Silence.
Then—
Light.
Pain.
Adam gasped, his new lungs burning as he jolted upright, hands clawing at his chest, his throat, his face.
His boots scraped against rough wood—a floor. A room. A mirror.
The reflection wasn't his.
But the eyes—
The eyes were his.
And then—
[ALERT: ERROR.]
[USER: ADAM. STATUS: DECEASED. CONTRADICTION.]
[…]
[WARNING: [ERROR] PROTOCOL ENGAGED.]
Adam laughed, the sound cracked and hollow.
He was alive.