The door loomed before them, a towering slab of black stone etched with pulsing runes, its surface slick and glistening like oiled flesh.
Symbols writhed across it—entwined bodies, open mouths, tongues curling around blades and shackles, a perverse tapestry of desire and danger.
The air was thick with the heady scent of incense, sweat, and something sharper, more intoxicating, like the lingering musk of sex, raw and inescapable.
Kota stood at the forefront, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied the door.
"This is it," he said, his voice low, resolute.
"The Boss Level. The last one. If we clear this, we go home." His gaze swept over the group—Miki's trembling excitement, Reina's quiet dread, Aika's steely resolve.
"But it's going to be tough. The boss level is always the hardest. Either we all live, or we all die."
