The lounge had filled back up with guild members while they'd been gone, about a dozen people eyeing Kurt with varying degrees of suspicion and curiosity.
Emma stood near the center of the room with a map spread out on the pool table, and when she spoke, the room went quiet.
"Listen up," she said, her presence demanding attention in a way that had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with the authority in her voice. "The Crimson Hollows contract. High tier C-rank dungeon, used to be old mining tunnels before the essence twisted them into something else entirely."
She let that sink in for a moment before continuing, her fingers tracing the map's faded lines. "It's been stable for months, but a few weeks ago the difficulty spiked hard. Last team that went in lost two people and barely made it out alive, which means whatever's down there now is a hell of a lot worse than what we signed up for."
Murmurs rippled through the room, and Kurt watched the way people shifted. Some leaning forward with interest, others leaning back with something that looked like fear.
"We took the contract before the spike," Rook added, stepping up beside Emma with his arms crossed. "Backing out now would tank our reputation, and in this district, reputation is the only thing keeping us from becoming just another failed guild. So we're going in, but we're going in smart. Full team, heavy supplies, and we're taking Kurt."
All eyes turned to Kurt, and he felt the weight of their stares like physical pressure. Some looked skeptical. Others looked downright hostile. A few just looked confused, probably wondering why the dead man was standing in their lounge smoking a cigarette.
"He died in the Fang dungeon three days ago," Rook said, his tone matter-of-fact. "And he came back. He's got some sort of resurrection ability that makes him very hard to keep down, which means we can use that to our advantage."
"So you're using him as bait?" someone called from the back, and Kurt couldn't quite place whether it was judgment or genuine curiosity in the voice.
"I'm using him as an asset," Rook corrected, his voice hardening slightly. "He goes ahead, triggers whatever traps or monsters that would kill the rest of us, and if he dies, he comes back. Simple as that."
"That's messed up," another voice muttered, lower this time, like they didn't really want to be heard but couldn't help saying it anyway.
"I don't remember asking for your fucking opinion, Paul," Emma snapped, and the room went dead silent.
She didn't even look up from the map, just kept her finger pressed against one of the marked locations. "We walk in blind and more of us get body-bagged. Kurt gives us an advantage. Anyone got a problem with that?"
The uncomfortable silence stretched out, until Paul was quietly consoled in the back by another guild member who patted his shoulder like he'd just been hit by a truck.
"Good." Emma's finger moved across the map, tracing the dungeon's layout with the experience of someone who had done it multiple times. "The Hollows have three main sections, each one worse than the last. Entry level is standard. Fire-based monsters, traps, environmental hazards. Nothing we haven't handled before, but don't get cocky because that's where people die thinking it's easy."
Her fingers moved to a different point on the paper, and Kurt noticed the way her jaw tightened slightly, the only sign that she was worried about what came next. "Second level is where it gets nasty. Reports say the monsters are stronger, faster, and there's something down there that wasn't there before... something the last team didn't stick around long enough to identify. Third level is the boss chamber." She paused, meeting Rook's eyes. "No intel on what's waiting, other than the possibility of a twilight giant."
"Fingers crossed it's not a goddamn twilight giant," Rook muttered, and a few nervous laughs rippled through the group.
Kurt stepped forward, studying the map's twisting pathways and scribbled danger zones that looked less like a proper dungeon layout and more like a drunk spider's masterpiece.
The tunnels branched and reconnected in ways that made no logical sense, and whoever had drawn this had helpfully marked certain areas with skulls, which Kurt assumed meant "you'll probably die here."
"Charming little holiday spot," he muttered, tapping ash onto the floor. "All it's missing is a souvenir shop selling 'I Survived the Crimson Hollows' t-shirts."
Emma rolled her eyes, though there was the faintest hint of amusement in the way her lips twitched before she schooled her expression back to business. "When do we move?" Kurt asked, looking up from the map.
"Tomorrow morning," Rook said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "That gives us tonight to prep, get your gear sorted, rest up, and be ready to move at dawn. Anyone not ready gets left behind."
The meeting dissolved after that, conversations breaking out in low murmurs as people scattered to prepare. Some headed toward the armory, others toward their bunks, and a few lingered near the map like they were trying to memorize every death trap before tomorrow came.
Kurt stayed where he was, eyes still tracing the tunnels over and over, trying to burn the layout into his brain before it tried to kill him.
He could feel someone watching him, and when he glanced up, Emma was standing there with her arms crossed.
"You don't have to do this," she said quietly, and there was something in her voice he couldn't quite place. Concern, maybe, or something close to it.
He didn't flinch, just turned to face her properly, taking in the tension in her shoulders and the way she was holding herself like she was bracing for an argument. "Yeah, I do," Kurt said, exhaling smoke. "I'm short on answers and shorter on memory. The Hollows might throw me a bone, and even if they don't, sitting around here won't help me figure out who I used to be."
"We don't know how this ability of yours works," Emma said, and now he could hear it clearly, the worry beneath the tough exterior. "What if you die down there and don't come back?"
He grunted, a lazy sound that didn't match the seriousness of what she was asking. "Then that's me done, love. Tragic ending for a bloke who doesn't even remember the beginning. But considering I've pulled the Lazarus routine twice already, I like my odds well enough."
Her stern expression softened just a fraction, something vulnerable flickering across her face before she locked it down again. "You used to talk like that," she said quietly. "Cocky, self-destructive nonsense that made me want to punch you... and believe it or not, kiss you too."
Kurt raised an eyebrow, finally getting confirmation of what he'd suspected since the bar. "And what's the vote tonight? Fist or lips?"
On her lips, there was barely a smile but enough to change her whole face. "I'll let you know."
She turned to leave, and Kurt watched her go in those confident strides that made her hair sway, and appreciate the shape of her even without a past to reference.
When she disappeared through the doorway, he muttered to himself, "Hm, So I had good taste."
He stood there for a moment longer, staring at the map without really seeing it anymore. Tomorrow loomed large in his mind.
He'd be going into a C-rank dungeon with people who claimed to know him, with monsters that could actually kill him for real, and the very real possibility that his resurrection trick had limits he hadn't discovered yet.
Tonight, though, he'd try to rest. Try to remember what it was like to sleep like a normal human being instead of a man with a death wish and a system in his head.
Kurt leaned back on the couch where he'd been sitting earlier, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. The nicotine hit his lungs, familiar and grounding, and he let his eyes close for just a moment.
***
About an hour later, footsteps approached. Light, unmistakably hers, and he cracked an eye open to see she just stood there, staring at him with an expression he couldn't read. Her grey eyes were dark, almost hollow, like she was looking at something far away.
"Can't sleep?" Kurt asked, sitting up slightly.
Emma didn't answer immediately. She just kept staring, and Kurt noticed the way her hands were clenched into fists at her sides.
"You died," she said finally, voice flat. "Three days ago, you died in front of me. I watched the Cave Horror's tail slam into you. I heard your ribs crack. I saw the light go out your fucking eyes."
Kurt went still.
"And I couldn't do a goddamn thing about it," Emma continued, exhaling sharply through her nose. "I unloaded every round I had into that fucking thing, but you were already gone. Rook had to drag me out because I wouldn't leave your body behind."
She laughed bitterly. "We had a fucking memorial. Lizzie cried. I didn't. I never do. Because crying's for people who think it fixes shit. It doesn't. People die, and nothing fucking matters. Anyone telling you different is selling themselves a bedtime story."
Kurt opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
"And now you're back," Emma said, taking a step closer. "Walking, talking, smoking your stupid cigarettes like nothing happened. But you don't remember shit."
She stopped a few feet away, and Kurt could see it now, her gaze hardening.
"So no," Emma said quietly. "I can't fucking sleep. Because tomorrow you're walking back into a dungeon. And maybe you die again. And maybe this time you stay dead."
"And the real fucked-up part?" She sneered. "I don't even know if I want you to remember who you were. Because that guy?"
She jabbed a finger into his chest. "That guy was an asshole who got himself killed."
The silence stretched between them and Kurt finally spoke up. "Emma. Do you wanna talk about it?"
Emma snorted and shook her head. "Talk?" she scoffed. "Jesus Christ." She stepped closer. "No. I don't wanna fucking talk."
She ran her hand through her hair dark hair tied in a loose ponytail. "But," she added, lowering her voice, "if you're asking because you feel like doing something stupid instead… we could always fuck and call it therapy."
She shrugged, like it meant nothing, and Kurt blinked. "What?"
"Do you wanna have sex?" she asked, her tone so flat it took him a second to process what she'd said.
Kurt stared at her, trying to figure out if this was a test or a breakdown or both. "That's—"
"Sex. Fucking. Whatever you wannna call it." Emma's expression was unreadable, an excellent poker face. "I need something right now, and you're here. Or does your brain not remember how to do that as well?"
She poked him on the chest again. "So what's it gonna be, miracle boy?" She had a light smirk on her face now. "You gonna play shrink… or you gonna make a bad decision like a normal person?"
Kurt stood slowly, taking in the tension in her body, the way she was holding herself together, and he recognized that this was about control.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Alright."
Emma's expression shifted to surprise, then something like relief, before she locked it down again. "Okay then."
She turned and walked toward a side room off the main lounge, and Kurt followed, understanding that whatever was about to happen, it had nothing to do with affection and everything to do with her deflecting and probably using him as an outlet.
***
A/N: I hope you're enjoying this so far. Add to Library and send a power stone or two if you're. Do it for Paul!
Thank you and peace!