The smell hit Elias first, damp stone and something else, something ancient. Five years as a scout, and he'd never quite gotten used to that first breath upon entering a new dungeon.
"System check," called Gareth, their party leader. The burly warrior tapped his guild emblem, causing a translucent blue interface to materialize before him. The others followed suit.
Elias pressed his fingers against the silver badge on his chest. His own status window appeared:
[Elias Vern]
[Scout - Level 23]
[Rank: E]
[Party: Crimson Vanguard]
"All green," he reported, scanning his modest skill list. Nothing impressive, enhanced perception, basic trap detection, silent movement. Useful, but hardly the kind of flashy abilities that earned fame and rapid advancement.
"Remind me why we're exploring an uncharted dungeon without guild backup?" Elias asked, eyes trained on the shadows ahead. His voice remained casual, but the question was pointed.
Meris, their mage, snorted. "Because our illustrious leader heard rumors of pre-Cataclysm artifacts. Glory and riches await, apparently."
"Scared, Eli?" Gareth smirked over his shoulder, torch illuminating his scarred face. "Thought you had better nerves."
"Caution isn't fear," Elias replied with an easy smile that somehow diffused the tension. It was a gift he'd always had, smoothing ruffled feathers, bridging gaps between stronger personalities. "I just like to know what I'm walking into."
"That's why we keep you around," said Dalia, their healer, nudging him with genuine affection. "Someone has to balance out this reckless fool." She nodded toward Gareth.
Tarrow, their trap specialist, remained silent as usual, eyes constantly scanning the floor and walls.
The party moved deeper, falling into their familiar formation. Elias felt that usual disconnection between his outward calm and inner alertness. The stone walls here were different, geometric patterns too precise to be natural, yet too weathered to be recent.
"Hold," he called softly, kneeling to examine a discolored section of floor. The others paused without question. Five years together created a trust that transcended their occasional bickering.
"Pressure plate," Tarrow confirmed, moving beside him. "Old design. Very old."
Gareth's eyes gleamed in the torchlight. "Pre-Cataclysm, like the rumors said."
They navigated around the trap, dispatched a pair of stone guardians with practiced efficiency, and pressed deeper. But something nagged at Elias's instincts, the monsters were too coordinated, the dungeon layout too...intentional.
Three hours and two levels deeper, they discovered the chamber.
"By the Founders," whispered Meris, raising her staff to illuminate the vast circular room. Crystalline formations jutted from the walls, reflecting their light in hypnotic patterns.
At the center stood a dais, and upon it, a pulsing blue orb the size of a human head.
"A core," Gareth breathed, approaching with reverence. "An actual dungeon core."
Elias felt a chill that had nothing to do with the chamber's temperature. "Something's wrong. Cores aren't supposed to be accessible."
"Which is precisely why this find will make us famous," Gareth replied, eyes never leaving the orb. "Think about it the first adventurers to extract an intact core."
Dalia frowned. "The guild explicitly forbids core tampering. We should report this."
"After we've secured our claim," Gareth insisted. "You know how the nobles operate they'll swoop in and take all credit if we don't bring proof."
As they argued, Elias studied the chamber. The floor patterns spiraled toward the dais in a mathematical progression that seemed vaguely familiar. The wall glyphs pulsed in sequence, almost like...
"It's a countdown," he realized aloud. "We need to leave. Now."
Tarrow caught his eye, nodding slightly. The trap specialist had noticed too.
"Five more minutes," Gareth insisted, already preparing extraction tools. "Meris, prepare a containment spell."
The mage hesitated, looking between Gareth and Elias.
"The patterns don't lie," Elias said quietly, pointing to the glyphs. "This entire chamber is one massive trigger system. That's not just a core, it's bait."
For a moment, Gareth's expression wavered. In the five years Elias had known him, the warrior had always heeded his warnings eventually. Their eyes met across the chamber, and something passed between them, trust built over countless expeditions.
Then greed won out.
"We're taking it," Gareth decided, turning back to the core. "That's an order."
Elias exchanged glances with Tarrow and Dalia. Even Meris looked uncomfortable but began the containment spell as instructed.
The moment Gareth's extraction tool touched the core, the blue glow intensified. The dungeon shuddered.
"What did you do?" Dalia gasped as dust rained from the ceiling.
"Continue the extraction!" Gareth shouted over the growing rumble.
Elias was already moving, pulling Meris away from her half-completed spell. "Everyone to the entrance! Now!"
The floor beneath them cracked. Crystalline formations shattered, sending deadly shards across the chamber. Tarrow went down, a fragment embedded in his thigh.
Elias dragged him up, shouldering his weight. "Move!"
The rumbling grew deafening. Behind them, the core's light had become blinding. Elias saw Dalia stumble as a section of ceiling collapsed. He lunged for her hand, but another impact knocked him sideways.
Pain exploded in his skull. As consciousness began to fade, he saw Gareth making one last desperate grab for the core.
The chamber walls buckled. Blue light erupted from the orb, washing over everything. Elias reached again for his fallen companions, his vision tunneling.
The last thing he remembered was a voice, somehow inside his mind rather than his ears:
"Finally, a suitable vessel has arrived."
Then darkness claimed him, along with the terrible knowledge that he had failed to save them all.