The gathering point was a crater of black stone at the edge of the academy grounds. The Northern Dungeon yawned before them, a jagged maw in the earth surrounded by swirling mist. The air here was thick, heavy with the pressure of deep magic. It tasted of sulfur and old blood.
Two hundred students stood in formation. They wore leather armor, enchanted lightly to resist minor cuts. They looked bright. Clean. Human.
Cassian stood in the back row. He wore heavy wool robes, layered over reinforced leather. His collar was turned up to his chin. Gloves covered both hands now. He looked like a corpse dressed for a funeral.
Students avoided standing near him. The circle of empty space around him was three feet wide. They smelled the chemicals on him. They sensed the weight.
Elian stood at the front, near the instructors. He looked fresh, rested. He held the rusted scrap sword he always used. He hadn't upgraded. He didn't need to. The story would provide.
Instructor Kael stood on the ridge above the crater. He looked down at Cassian. His eyes lingered on the covered neck. He gave a single, sharp nod.
*Remember the deal.*
The Headmaster stepped forward. He was an old man, his skin like parchment, his staff topped with a glowing crystal.
"The Dungeon is not a school," the Headmaster said. His voice boomed, amplified by magic. "It is a filter. You will enter in teams of five. You will retrieve one artifact or ten beast cores. You have three days. If you do not return by the fourth dawn, the gate closes. You will be left inside."
A ripple of fear went through the crowd. Left inside meant death. The dungeon ejected nothing.
Cassian didn't listen. He knew the map. He knew the beast spawn points. He knew where the traps were buried. He didn't need a team. Teams were liabilities. They slowed him down. They asked questions. They saw things they shouldn't.
"Vane," a voice said.
Cassian turned. Thorne stood there with four others. They were his team. They looked unhappy about it.
"Kael assigned us," Thorne said. He kept his distance. "Says you're too much of a risk to go alone."
Cassian looked at them. They were soft. Their hearts beat fast. He could hear the rhythm of their panic. *Thump-thump. Thump-thump.* His own heart beat once every ten seconds. *Thump... ... Thump...*
"I walk alone," Cassian said. His voice was a rasp, like grinding stones.
Thorne flinched at the sound. "It's not optional. Kael's orders. You protect us, we carry the cores."
Cassian looked at the dungeon entrance. The mist swirled, inviting. He could feel the toxins in the air. Carbon monoxide. Mana radiation. Rot.
The other students were coughing. Some covered their mouths with cloths. Their eyes watered.
Cassian breathed in. The air was cool. Neutral. His lungs filtered the poison before it touched the blood. He was already inside the dungeon, even standing here.
"Fine," Cassian said. "Stay behind me. Don't touch anything."
They moved out. The line of students descended into the crater. The mist swallowed them one by one.
As soon as Cassian crossed the threshold, the temperature dropped. The light faded to a dim, violet twilight. The walls of the tunnel were lined with crystals that hummed.
Within ten minutes, the first student vomited. The air toxicity was affecting them. Their enchanted armor couldn't filter the air. They were breathing poison.
Cassian walked through it. He didn't cough. He didn't slow down.
Thorne noticed. He was walking behind Cassian, watching his back. "You're not wearing a filter," Thorne whispered.
"Don't talk," Cassian said.
"We're going to die," one of the girls said. She was crying. "The air... it burns."
Cassian didn't answer. Pity was inefficient. Emotion was waste.
They reached the first chamber. It was a large cavern, stalactites hanging from the ceiling like teeth. In the center, a beast waited.
A Stoneback Boar. Ten feet long. Skin like armored plate. Tusks coated in venom.
In the original script, this was where the first casualty occurred. A student panicked, broke formation, and was gored. Elian saved them, earning loyalty.
Cassian stopped. The team halted behind him.
"Don't move," Cassian said.
The boar snorted. Steam rose from its nostrils. It charged.
The ground shook. The team screamed. They scattered, breaking the formation. Just like the script.
Cassian didn't scatter. He planted his feet. His densified legs sank into the stone floor. He didn't raise a weapon. He didn't need one.
The boar lowered its head. The tusk aimed for his chest.
Cassian stepped forward. He met the charge.
He caught the tusk with his left hand.
The impact sounded like a hammer hitting an anvil. The boar skidded to a halt. Its legs scrabbled for traction. It couldn't push him back.
Cassian's glove shredded. The gray skin was exposed. The tusk scraped against the hardened flesh. Sparks flew.
Cassian felt no pain. He felt the pressure. The weight. The vector of force.
He twisted his wrist. The bone in the boar's neck snapped.
The beast fell. It thrashed for a second, then went still.
Cassian released the tusk. His left hand was intact. No cut. No bruise. The gray skin had hardened further upon impact. It was now the color of slate.
He looked at his hand. The fingers were stiffer. Less dexterity. More strength.
*Cost recorded,* he thought.
Thorne and the others stared. They weren't cheering. They were terrified. They had seen the skin. They had seen the strength.
"You... you didn't use magic," Thorne said. His voice trembled.
"No," Cassian said. He walked to the beast. He pulled a knife from his belt. He carved out the core from the boar's forehead. It glowed blue.
He tossed it to Thorne. Thorne caught it instinctively. He looked at the core, then at Cassian.
"What are you?" the girl whispered.
Cassian didn't answer. He walked deeper into the cavern. The path led left. The artifact was left. The script said right.
"Wait!" Thorne called. "The path is right! The map says—"
"Map is wrong," Cassian said. He didn't stop.
"They'll kill us if we go off path," Thorne said. He ran to catch up. The others followed. They had no choice. They were prey. He was the predator.
Cassian ignored them. He focused on the hum in the walls. The dungeon was alive. It sensed them. It was adjusting the traps.
He could feel the dungeon trying to kill him. Pressure plates shifting. Gas vents opening.
He breathed in the gas. It tasted like copper. His lungs absorbed it, neutralized it. He grew stronger. The dungeon was feeding him.
He stopped at a junction. The wall ahead was cracked. Behind it, the hum was louder. The artifact was there.
"Break it," Cassian said.
Thorne looked at the wall. "It's reinforced stone. We don't have explosives."
Cassian stepped forward. He pulled back his right fist. The muscles in his arm shifted, locking into place. The gray skin tightened.
He punched the wall.
The stone didn't crack. It shattered. Dust exploded outward. Thorne covered his face.
Behind the wall was a pedestal. On it lay a dagger. The hilt was wrapped in black leather. The blade was dull iron.
*Cipher Blade.* A low-rank artifact. But it could cut through mana shields.
Cassian picked it up. The metal felt cold. His hand didn't feel the temperature, but his body registered the conductivity.
He tucked the dagger into his belt.
"That's it?" Thorne asked. "We came all this way for a dagger?"
"It's enough," Cassian said.
He turned back. The path out was clear. But he knew what was waiting.
The script said Elian would meet them on the way out. He would save them from a ambush. He would take the credit.
Cassian started walking. He needed to be ready.
He checked his heart rate. *Thump... ... Thump...*
He checked his breath. Silent.
He checked his humanity.
He couldn't find it.
It didn't matter.
The ledger was open. The debt was growing.
He would pay it all.