The eight were standing their camp in the outskirts.
"So then," Ryn was telling Ember with a half-laugh, "Argent called that recruiter 'ugly face.' Right in the middle of the Ledger lobby."
Ember froze with a spoon halfway to her mouth.
"Not you too! That name is copyrighted." She jabbed a finger at Argent. "You're stealing my brand."
Rime snorted. "Your brand is yelling random insults? Truly an empire of words."
Ember elbowed him hard. "Hush. You're jealous I think faster than you."
Rime rubbed his ribs. "I'm jealous you think at all."
Laughter cracked through the camp.
Argent stepped forward and shook Veryn's hand. "Okay. That's all of your merit transfers finished. Everyone should have their share now."
Veryn nodded gratefully.
Argent exhaled, then lifted his voice to the group.
"There's something else I want to bring up. Ryn mentioned the idea of getting proper lodging… and the Ledger offered us a deal."
A ripple of interest moved through the group.
Ryn added, "They'd give us an estate, big place, outbuildings, land. But it's in an empty district and… apparently cheap because nobody wants to live there."
Veyra frowned. "Empty? Are there really vacant parts of the city? Who even built that place? Was it made for the war? For us? It's like humanity just… slotted into a city already finished."
Before anyone could ponder too deeply, Mugwort popped up behind them like a startled weasel.
"Oh, the city?" he chirped. "Built by a ghost, probably. Ghosts like tidy streets. Gotta make people feel comfortable so they do exactly what you want. Yes yes, that's how they get ya. Ghost architecture."
The group exchanged a look:
Mugwort being Mugwort.
Then collectively went on with their conversation.
Ember raised her hand like she was voting. "I'm in. Sleeping on the ground has lost its charm. My back is starting to forget what comfort feels like."
Rime rolled his eyes. "You'd sleep anywhere. You once napped on a pile of broken shields."
"They were warm!" Ember protested. "Freshly dented!"
Verya spoke next, softer. "I would like a home too… but I'd feel bad leaving Mugwort. He's done a lot for us."
Mugwort whirled around dramatically, hands spread.
"What makes you think I don't live in a house, hmm? A large one! A mansion! A palace of stew and secrets! Where do you think I go at night? I don't sleep here with you, no no, too many snores, too many smells. I have walls! Windows! Rugs! Very cozy."
They blinked at him.
Argent narrowed his eyes playfully. "If you have a whole house, why didn't you ever invite us for a real dinner? With… I don't know… a table?"
Mugwort waved frantically.
"No no no, haven't cleaned! Very messy! Very embarrassing! Dust everywhere. Spiders maybe. Or ghosts. Or ghost spiders. Not fit for company. But you, you all go get a house! Good for you! Means less work for poor Mugwort, no tending to you under the open sky."
Rime lifted a hand. "Actually, while we're on the subject of this webbing… since we had merits, we checked out the shops for armor."
He grimaced. "Metal stuff was heavy, leather stuff was stiff. Felt wrong after fighting in my normal clothes."
Veryn nodded. "Same. I trained in armor back home, but fighting here? Light clothes just feel natural."
"So," Rime continued, "if spider webbing makes flexible armor, and we already know the weaver who made these pouches… maybe we use the extra webbing to get some custom outfits made?"
Ember struck a tiny flame off her axe. "Matching outfits? Yes, please."
Argent chuckled. "It's a good idea. And the Ledger said those cores from the other tunnel reinforce armor depending on their colors. No clue what that means, but collecting a bunch seems smart."
The twins nodded vigorously.
Ward leaned back, arms behind his head. "So… house, armor, cores, webbing… sounds like a plan."
Ferric grinned. "Sounds like an adventure."
Ryn smiled, a warm, eager spark in her eyes. "Sounds like us."
None of them disagreed.
Argent rested his elbows on his knees, staring into the flames of the campfire.
"I talked to Borth about the dungeon," he said. "He says every dungeon has sixteen levels. You only get deeper by killing the boss on the floor before it."
A few eyebrows rose.
Sixteen floors was… a lot.
He continued, slower this time.
"I… want to see the next one. The dungeon is from before the war. A relic from a world that wasn't swallowed by this… cycle. And hardly anyone goes inside, not really. Not to explore. Not to try. They just farm the first floor and leave."
He looked up, eyes catching the firelight.
"If I'm really going to live in this world… if I'm going to embrace it… I want to start with something everyone has access to, but no one does."
A quiet settled around them. Something serious, thoughtful.
"I know it sounds weird," Argent admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It might be smarter to go straight to the provinces. Learn more about how people fight. Figure out how the war works. But…"
Veryn finished the thought for him.
"We've kind of just been… going with whatever comes our way."
He offered a small, almost guilty smile. "And not looking back. I hate saying this when we see other newcomers struggling but… I'm having fun."
Ember pointed a thumb at Rime dramatically. "Even though I'm still annoyed I got dragged here because of this guy."
She paused, then grinned. "I'm having fun too."
Rime let a small smile slip out as he stared down at the ground.
Ferric leaned back, staring toward the distant lights of the city.
"For me? Being out in the open again… just being free? Taking whatever comes and getting stronger from it? There's no reason to stop what we're doing. Not yet."
His voice softened. "Back home I didn't get to make choices. Here, I live by my own."
Ward rumbled a low agreement. "We're not here to chase someone else's war."
Veyra nodded. "Not yet."
"We're alive here," Veryn added. "More than we were before."
Ryn, sitting beside Argent, hugged her knees to her chest. "I trained every day back home. Had a path laid out for me since I was a kid. But here… every step is mine. Every choice is mine."
She smiled, small and real. "I like that."
Argent looked around at them, at these eight mismatched people thrown together by accident, fate, or something stranger.
He realized he'd never felt something like this back home, this spark, this momentum, this sense of being alive.
"So," he said softly, "until the world gives us another path… we keep going. Dungeon first. Floor by floor. Step by step."
Everyone nodded.
A content silence followed, warm, full, grounding.
Until Mugwort broke it.
"Ohhhh," he sang, waving a ladle menacingly at the sky. "Choosing not to chase the Apex, are we? He won't like that."
He cackled. "No no no, he wants you to climb, climb, climb! Go to the Apex, unlock the world, break the chains, oh yes! But you're choosing to live? To be alive? Hmmm."
He squinted at Argent.
"That'll make the ghosts very curious."
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
Rime whispered, "Why does he say things like that right before bed?"
Ember whispered back, "Because he hates us."
Mugwort stirred the stew, humming happily, like he hadn't just said something that would keep half of them awake for hours.
***
A cold breath of air drifted through the vast chamber as the eight stepped inside. The grand hall of the dungeon was as massive as the first day Argent had stumbled into it, a cathedral hewn from stone and silence.
The enormous mosaic wheel still dominated the floor, its sixteen faded wedges etched with symbols only barely visible beneath a thin blanket of dust.
One by one, they unlatched their thigh pouches and drew out their loaned weapons.
Steel rang, leather creaked, and the hall swallowed every sound as if listening.
Ward hefted both shields with a grunt and glanced around.
"Figure we don't all wanna cram into one tunnel," he said, tapping one shield with the other."
Argent stepped toward the mosaic's center, gripping his hand around the giant's axe.
"Ward's right. We should split up. Four and four, but lets change it up this time."
Ryn adjusted the string on her bow and looked toward Argent, giving a tiny nod.
Argent pointed between them as he laid it out.
"Ward, Ferric, think you two can show Rime and Ember the spider tunnel? Now that you've… well… mined it pretty thoroughly."
Ward cracked a grin. "Sure. Sounds good to me."
Ember's face twisted like she'd just bitten into a lemon.
"Ugh, spiders? Why can't I get the mushroom-tree-wood-guys?"
Rime chuckled. "Just don't panic much, if something drops from the ceiling."
"I don't panic," Ember insisted loudly. "I strategically scream."
Rime elbowed her. "Maybe you can name all the spiders while we're down there. You seem good at that."
Ember glared. "Rime, I swear..."
Ward clapped a massive hand on her shoulder, which nearly sent her stumbling.
"Come on, Ember. First we kill 'em, then you can name whatever pieces you want."
Ryn muffled a laugh.
Argent turned to the twins.
"Veyra, Veryn, you two come with us. We're gonna head down the other tunnel and check out these… uh… sporewood whatevers."
Veryn rolled his shoulders. "Honestly? Sounds exciting."
Veyra smirked. "As long as nothing tries to eat my face, I'm good."
"No promises," Argent replied lightly.
The group of eight exchanged glances, excitement, anticipation, each threading its own invisible line between them. The hall felt less cold now. Less empty. As if the dungeon itself were watching, waiting.
Ward slammed both shields together with a sharp CLANG.
Ferric spun his chains once, metal whispering through the air.
Argent tightened his grip on the axe.
Ryn drew an arrow and tested the bowstring.
Two groups formed, four on each side of the mosaic wheel.
Ward glanced across the hall. "See you on the other side."
"Try not to die too fast," Argent shot back.
"Oh, we'll die just the right amount," Ember declared proudly.
Rime sighed. "Please stop saying that."
A final set of exchanged grins, nods, and steadying breaths…
And then the eight split.
The first group disappearing into the ore-lit right corridor,
the second stepping into the dim, earthy glow of the left.
Two tunnels.
Two paths forward.