The warmth of the mana that surged through his veins helped fight the cold that bit at his chest and limbs. Feeling returned to his hands, and the internal frostbite shrank until he could only feel it at the very center of his chest.

With the warmth came unnatural exhaustion. Not the exhaustion that came from strenuous physical exertion, but something more. His soul felt tired.

Evan could hear Fenrir rumbling in contentment in the space he shared with the shadows and the core. “We should return and check on the humans, my King.”

He paused for a moment as he surveyed the clearing. A handful of Hunters could still be saved if he acted quickly. “Cho’Ga was here. That means that there must be another portal here that leads back to The Labyrinth. We have never had this opportunity before, Fenrir. To gain access to The Labyrinth. Perhaps we should take it?”

The core snorted. “And what will you do once you are inside, my King? We have no army and we grow weaker by the second. We cannot stand up to Hel and the remaining Architects in this state, much less the entirety of The Labyrinth.”

A silky and sinister voice whispered softly in the recess of his mind. “You have me and Tyr, my King. What more do you need? You are the God-King of Shadows. The Scourge of The Labyrinth. I can take you to the portal and together we can—”

Fenrir growled at the spider queen, silencing her before she could finish. “It seems that even death was not enough to humble you, little spider. Be silent. While Evan might be your King, inside this realm, I am God. And I am still hungry.”

280 seconds.

A moment passed before Evan nodded his head. Fenrir was right of course, he had already known that before he had asked. He sighed as Tyr and Cho’Ga rose from the ground. “Collect the humans that can still be saved. Take them immediately to Astrid.”

Tyr and Cho’Ga rounded up the Hunters that were still breathing and they made their way towards the portal.

Evan found it hard to keep his eyes open as he stepped through the portal. He gazed sleepily into the pitch-blackness of the void as he fell.

There was a fraction of a second — maybe less — right before the void disappeared, and before he found himself standing on the blood-soaked grounds of Earth, that the endless blackness vanished, only to be replaced by another.

He saw himself floating in front of a blue and green planet. The planet rotated slowly. Carelessly.

He knew instinctively that this planet was Earth. And that it wasn’t him floating, but Fenrir.

A soft voice echoed through the emptiness, like the soft rustle of leaves on a windy day. A voice that both brimmed with, and lacked power at the same time, spoke out to Fenrir.

“Save them. Save me.”

Fenrir shuddered as the voice flowed over him like water. At that moment Fenrir was certain of one thing. Earth’s core — the core that The Labyrinth was intent on consuming — was also a dungeon core.

And then it was gone.

Stolen novel; please report.

Forgotten.

* * *

290 seconds.

Evan landed in the middle of an ending battle. The stench of death and decay permeated the air. Metal clanged against claws and fangs as he saw the Hunters and his shadows kill the last of the remaining beasts.

He smiled as the surviving Hunters celebrated. Some dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, thanking their God for sparing their lives. Some hugged and kissed each other, while others suffered in agony at the loss of their love, their child, or their family.

300 seconds.

A pull, followed by coldness.

His drooping eyes finally settled on Astrid. The healer sped back and forth between a line of makeshift cots as she tried to heal the worst of the wounded. The archer trailed her, a blank expression on her face as she distributed potions to the healed.

His vision was interrupted by the appearance of a translucent screen.

You are no longer under the effects of [A God’s Wrath]

The cold in the center of his chest that he had become used to disappeared and was replaced by warmth. He managed to take a single step forward before his body gave out and he dropped to the floor.

“Another chance,” he whispered.

“Another chance,” Fenrir whispered back as darkness enveloped him.

* * *

The first thing Evan remembered feeling was the warm hand that rested on his chest. For the briefest of moments, he pretended that the hand belonged to his wife. He could hear her laugh, and her voice with almost perfect clarity. Something that he hadn’t been able to do in a long time. He could almost pretend that if he opened his eyes he would be able to see her again. Kiss her. Love her.

Despite his best efforts, the moment faded — slowly at first, and then all at once.

He opened his eyes to find Astrid looking down at him with her hand on top of his chest. The summoner felt a tinge of jealousy from the dungeon core within him as it spoke. The woman reminded the core of something, or of someone. They were connected in some way. Either now, or in the past.

“We are fine, little healer,” the core mumbled.

Astrid jumped up at the sound of Fenrir’s voice. Her face flushed red with embarrassment. “You-you’re awake!”

She took a moment to collect herself before she started to look over Evan again. She poked and prodded at his body and shined a light into his eye. “We were starting to wonder if you were ever going to wake up.”

Evan tried to laugh, but the slight movement caused him to cough. Black blood dribbled from his mouth. His voice was hoarse and cracked. “How long have I been asleep?”

The healer wiped the blood from his mouth with a towel and walked over to a table. She poured a glass of water and handed it to Evan. “About three days.”

The summoner drank the water eagerly. The cool liquid felt good against his parched throat.

He hesitated a moment before asking the only question he really cared about. “Did we win?”

Astrid hesitated for a moment, before nodding her head. “I guess it depends on who you ask. But Citadel still stands. So yes, I suppose we won.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued to speak. “But we lost hundreds of Hunters. We lost Jason.”

Evan’s body stiffened at the mention of the warrior. Fenrir growled in rage and misery as Jason’s death replayed in the summoner’s head. Not at the death of the warrior, but at what the death said about him and Fenrir’s ability to fight The Labyrinth. Once again, they had failed.

“Some must die so that others will live, my King. That is the way it has always been. In the end, we overcame,” the core whispered in his mind.